General Books

A carrion crow sat on an oak,Watching a tailor shape his cloak."Wife, bring me my old bent bow,That I may shoot yon carrion crow."The tailor he shot and missed his mark,And shot his own sow quite through the heart."Wife, wife, bring brandy in a spoon,For our old sow is in a swoon." B Ba, ba, black sheep,  Have you any wool?Yes, marry, have I,  Three bags full.One for my... more...

HISTORICAL NOTE. The design followed out in the succeeding poem has been to touch upon the leading historical incidents of Saul's career that lead up to and explain his tragic death on Mount Gilboa. With him, nearly 3,000 years ago, commenced the Monarchical government of the Israelites, who had previously been governed by a Theocracy. The Prophet Samuel, who anointed Saul, was the last of the... more...

EPISTLE TO THE REV. J--- B---, WHILST JOURNEYING FOR THE RECOVERY OF HIS HEALTH. When warm’d with zeal, my rustic MuseFeels fluttering fain to tell her news,And paint her simple, lowly views      With all her art,And, though in genius but obtuse,      May touch the heart. Of palaces and courts of kingsShe thinks but little, never sings,But wildly strikes her uncouth strings      In... more...

DEAR TOM—Allow me to request you to introduce Mr. Peter Bell to the respectable family of the Fudges. Although he may fall short of those very considerable personages in the more active properties which characterize the Rat and the Apostate, I suspect that even you, their historian, will confess that he surpasses them in the more peculiarly legitimate qualification of intolerable dulness. You know... more...

ENTHUSIASM.Oh for the spirit which inspired of oldThe seer's prophetic song—the voice that spakeThrough Israel's warrior king. The strains that burstIn thrilling tones from Zion's heaven-strung harp,Float down the tide of ages, shedding lightOn pagan shores and nations far remote:Eternal as the God they celebrate,Their fame shall last when Time's long race is run,And you refulgent... more...

I propose to treat of Poetry in itself and of its various kinds, noting the essential quality of each; to inquire into the structure of the plot as requisite to a good poem; into the number and nature of the parts of which a poem is composed; and similarly into whatever else falls within the same inquiry. Following, then, the order of nature, let us begin with the principles which come first. Epic... more...

THE CULPRIT FAY. “My visual orbs are purged from film, and lo!   “Instead of Anster’s turnip-bearing vales“I see old fairy land’s miraculous show!   “Her trees of tinsel kissed by freakish gales,“Her Ouphs that, cloaked in leaf-gold, skim the breeze,   “And fairies, swarming—” Tennant’s Anster Fair. I. ’Tis the middle watch of a summer’s night—The earth is dark, but... more...

THE SHEPHERDESS She walks—the lady of my delight—   A shepherdess of sheep.Her flocks are thoughts.  She keeps them white;   She guards them from the steep.She feeds them on the fragrant height,   And folds them in for sleep. She roams maternal hills and bright,   Dark valleys safe and deep.Into that tender breast at night   The chastest stars may peep.She walks—the lady of my... more...

QUEEN BERNGERD Long ere the Sun the heaven arrayed,For her morning gift her Lord she prayed:“Give me Samsoe to have and to hold,And from every maiden a crown of gold.”   Woe befall her, Berngerd. The King he answered Berngerd thus:“Madam, crave something less of us,For many a maid lives ’neath our swayTo ’scape from death could the like not pay.”   Woe befall her, Berngerd. “My gentle... more...

SeeMeBe(kyndeAgayneMy payneReteyne(in myndeMy swete bloodeOn the roodeDyde the good(my broderMy face ryght redMyn armes spredMy woundes bled(thynke none oderBeholde thou my sydeWounded so ryght wydeBledynge sore that tyde(all for thyn owne sakeThus for the I smertedWhy arte þharde hertedBe by me conuerted(& thy swerynge aslakeTere me nowe no moreMy woundes are soreLeue swerynge therfore(and come to... more...