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Showing: 61-70 results of 162

THE BROTHER AVENGED I stood before my master’s board,   The skinker’s office plying;The herald-men brought tidings then   That my brother was murdered lying. I followed my lord unto his bed,   By his dearest down he laid him;Then my courser out of the stall I led,   And with saddle and bit arrayed him. I sprang upon my courser’s back,   With the spur began to goad him;And ere... more...

INTRODUCTION A hope of immortality and a sense of humor distinguish man from the beasts of the field. A single exception may be made, perhaps, of the Laughing Hyena, and, on the other hand, not every one of the human race possesses the power of laughter. For those who do, this volume is intended. And since there can be nothing humorous about an introduction, there can be small need of a lengthy one. Merely a few explanations of conditions... more...

BOOK I. THE VISION OF THE KING Before the gods that made the godsHad seen their sunrise pass,The White Horse of the White Horse ValeWas cut out of the grass.Before the gods that made the godsHad drunk at dawn their fill,The White Horse of the White Horse ValeWas hoary on the hill.Age beyond age on British land,Aeons on aeons gone,Was peace and war in western hills,And the White Horse looked on.For the White Horse knew EnglandWhen there was none... more...

CHAP. I. What a Poet and Poesie is, and who may be worthily sayd the most excellent Poet of our time. A Poet is as much to say as a maker. And our English name well conformes with the Greeke word: for of [Greek: poiein] to make, they call a maker Poeta. Such as (by way of resemblance and reuerently) we may say of God: who without any trauell to his diuine imagination, made all the world of nought, nor also by any paterne or mould as the... more...

CHAPTER I. Before I commence mi short history o’ Haworth Railway, it might be as weel to say a word or two abaat Haworth itseln.  It’s a city at’s little nawn, if onny, in th’ history o’ Ingland, tho thare’s no daat but it’s as oud as Methuslam, if net ouder, yet wi’ being built so far aat o’ th’ latitude o’ civilised nashuns, nobody’s scarcely nawn owt abaat it wal... more...


WHEN chapman billies leave the street,And drouthy neebors, neebors meet,As market-days are wearing late,An' folk begin to tak the gate;While we sit bousing at the nappy,An' getting fou and unco happy,We think na on the lang Scots miles,The mosses, waters, slaps, and styles,That lie between us and our hame,Whar sits our sulky sullen dame,Gathering her brows like gathering storm,Nursing her wrath to keep it warm. This truth fand honest Tam o'... more...

THE FROZEN BIRD.   See, see, what a sweet little prize I have found!A Robin that lay half-benumbed on the ground:Well hous’d and well fed, in your cage you will sing,And make our dull winter as gay as the spring.But stay,—sure ’tis cruel, with wings made to soar,To be shut up in prison, and never fly more—And I, who so often have long’d for a flight,Shall I keep you prisoner?—mamma, is that right?No,... more...

ATHENS AN ODE Ere from under earth again like fire the violet kindle, [Str. 1.Ere the holy buds and hoar on olive-branches bloom,Ere the crescent of the last pale month of winter dwindle,Shrink, and fall as falls a dead leaf on the dead month's tomb,Round the hills whose heights the first-born olive-blossom brightened,Round the city brow-bound once with violets like a bride,Up from under earth again a light that long since lightenedBreaks,... more...

[p 3]MUCKROSS At night there came unto MacCarthy More A hooded vision with a voice that said, “Go thou straightway and raise a house to God Upon the spot where stands the Rock of Song!” So with the golden lifting of the dawn Upsprang the chieftain and loud called his kerns, And bade them seek the Rock. For many a day They roved the sweeping meads and fens and fells In fruitless search, and ever forth again Relentlessly he... more...

HOPE AND FEAR Beneath 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 the soul leaves off to dream and yearn,May truth... more...