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HOPE AND FEARBeneath the shadow of dawn's aerial cope,With eyes enkindled as the sun's own sphere,Hope from the front of youth in godlike cheerLooks Godward, past the shades where blind men gropeRound the dark door that prayers nor dreams can ope,And makes for joy the very darkness dearThat gives her wide wings play; nor dreams that fearAt noon may rise and pierce the heart of hope.Then, when... more...

POEMS OF NATURE The world is too much with us; late and soon,Getting and spending, we lay waste our powers:Little we see in Nature that is ours;We have given our hearts away, a sordid boon!This sea that bares her bosom to the moon,The winds that will be howling at all hours,And are up-gathered now like sleeping flowers;For this, for everything, we are out of tune;It moves us not.—Great God! I'd... more...

BALLADE OF THE PRIMITIVE JEST "What did the dark-haired Iberian laugh at before the tall blondeAryan drove him into the corners of Europe?"—Brander Matthews I am an ancient Jest!Palaeolithic manIn his arboreal nestThe sparks of fun would fan;My outline did he plan,And laughed like one possessed,'Twas thus my course began,I am a Merry Jest! I am an early Jest!Man delved, and built, and... more...

As Easy as A.B.C. (1912) The A.B.C., that semi-elected, semi-nominated body of a few score persons, controls the Planet. Transportation is Civilisation, our motto runs. Theoretically we do what we please, so long as we do not interfere with the trafficand all it implies.Practically, the A.B.C. confirms or annuls all international arrangements, and, to judge from its last report, finds our tolerant,... more...

"ONLY A BABY SMALL" Only a baby small,Dropped from the skies,Only a laughing face,Two sunny eyes;Only two cherry lips,One chubby nose;Only two little hands,Ten little toes. Only a golden head,Curly and soft;Only a tongue that wagsLoudly and oft;Only a little brain,Empty of thought;Only a little heart,Troubled with naught. Only a tender flowerSent us to rear;Only a life to loveWhile we are... more...

Preface Robert Burns was born near Ayr, Scotland, 25th of January, 1759. He was the son of William Burnes, or Burness, at the time of the poet's birth a nurseryman on the banks of the Doon in Ayrshire. His father, though always extremely poor, attempted to give his children a fair education, and Robert, who was the eldest, went to school for three years in a neighboring village, and later, for... more...

ANONYMOUS.1.Madrigal.Love not me for comely grace,For my pleasing eye or face;Nor for any outward part,No, nor for my constant heart:For those may fail or turn to ill,So thou and I shall sever:Keep therefore a true woman's eye,And love me still, but know not why;So hast thou the same reason stillTo doat upon me ever. 2.The Forsaken Merman.Come, dear children, let us away;Down and away below.Now my... more...

LIFE OF KEATS Of all the great poets of the early nineteenth century—Wordsworth, Coleridge, Scott, Byron, Shelley, Keats—John Keats was the last born and the first to die. The length of his life was not one-third that of Wordsworth, who was born twenty-five years before him and outlived him by twenty-nine. Yet before his tragic death at twenty-six Keats had produced a body of poetry of such... 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 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...