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THE DEFENCE OF GUENEVEREBUT, knowing now that they would have her speak,She threw her wet hair backward from her brow,Her hand close to her mouth touching her cheek,As though she had had there a shameful blow,And feeling it shameful to feel ought but shameAll through her heart, yet felt her cheek burned so,She must a little touch it; like one lameShe walked away from Gauwaine, with her headStill lifted... more...

PART I. The Arrow and the Song. "The Arrow and the Song," by Longfellow (1807-82), is placed first in this volume out of respect to a little girl of six years who used to love to recite it to me. She knew many poems, but this was her favourite.I shot an arrow into the air,It fell to earth, I knew not where;For, so swiftly it flew, the sightCould not follow it in its flight.I breathed a song... more...

In an old world garden dreaming,Where the flowers had human names,Methought, in fantastic seeming,They disported as squires and dames. Of old in Rosamond's Bower,With it's peacock hedges of yew,One could never find the flowerUnless one was given the clue;So take the key of the wicket,Who would follow my fancy free,By formal knot and clipt thicket,And smooth greensward so fair to see And while... more...

1. ALL THAT'S PAST   Very old are the woods;    And the buds that break  Out of the briar's boughs,    When March winds wake,  So old with their beauty are—    Oh, no man knows  Through what wild centuries    Roves back the rose.   Very old are the brooks;    And the rills that rise  Where snow sleeps cold beneath    The azure skies  Sing such a... more...

Warning to the Public THE LOVING BALLAD OF LORD BATEMAN. In some collection of old English Ballads there is an ancient ditty which I am told bears some remote and distant resemblance to the following Epic Poem. I beg to quote the emphatic language of my estimable friend (if he will allow me to call him so), the Black Bear in Piccadilly, and to assure all to whom these presents may come, that "I am... more...

MARSK STIG’S DAUGHTERS Two daughters fair the Marshal had,O grievous was their fate and sad. The eldest she took her sister’s handAnd away they went to Sweden’s land. Home from the Stevn King Byrgye rode;Up to him Marsk Stig’s daughters trode. “What women ye who beset my gate?What brings ye hither at eve so late?” “Daughters of Stig, the Marshal brave,So earnestly thee for help we... more...

THE DEFEAT OF YOUTH I. UNDER THE TREES. here had been phantoms, pale-remembered shapesOf this and this occasion, sisterlyIn their resemblances, each effigyCrowned with the same bright hair above the nape'sWhite rounded firmness, and each body alertWith such swift loveliness, that very restSeemed a poised movement: ... phantoms that impressedBut a faint influence and could bless or hurtNo more than... more...

PREFACE This is not like other collections of religious verse; still less is it a hymnal. The present volume is directed to a very specific and wholly practical end, the production of high personal character; and only those poems which have an immediate bearing in this direction have been admitted. We know of no other book published which has followed this special line. There are fine hymnals,... more...

A CHANNEL PASSAGE 1855Forth from Calais, at dawn of night, when sunset summer on autumn shone,Fared the steamer alert and loud through seas whence only the sun was gone:Soft and sweet as the sky they smiled, and bade man welcome: a dim sweet hourGleamed and whispered in wind and sea, and heaven was fair as a field in flower.Stars fulfilled the desire of the darkling world as with music: the starbright... more...

The true story of the life of Michael Drayton might be told to, vindicate the poetic traditions of the olden time. A child-poet wandering in fay-haunted Arden, or listening to the harper that frequented the fireside of Polesworth Hall where the boy was a petted page, later the honoured almoner of the bounty of many patrons, one who "not unworthily," as Tofte said, "beareth the name of the... more...