General Books

I. THE VENDER OF VIOLETS."Violets!Violets! Violets!"This was the cry I heardAs I passed through the street of a city;And quickly my heart was stirredTo an incomprehensible pity,At the undertone of the cry;For it seemed like the voice of oneWho was stricken, and all undone,Who was only longing to die."Violets! Violets! Violets!"The voice came nearer still."Surely," I said,... more...

HAFBUR AND SIGNE Young Hafbur King and Sivard King   They lived in bitter enmity;’Twas Signe proud that caused their feud,   Of maidens all the fairest she. It was youthful Hafbur King   Awaked at midnight with a bound,And full of dread he straightway said   His wondrous dream to all around. “Methought I was in heaven’s domain,   Within that place so fair to view,And held to my breast... more...

Prologus Torpor, ebes sensus, scola parua labor minimusqueCausant quo minimus ipse minora canam:Qua tamen Engisti lingua canit Insula BrutiAnglica Carmente metra iuuante loquar.Ossibus ergo carens que conterit ossa loquelisAbsit, et interpres stet procul oro malus. Of hem that writen ous toforeThe bokes duelle, and we therforeBen tawht of that was write tho:Forthi good is that we alsoIn oure tyme among... more...

THE DUCKS AND THE FROGS chanced upon a certain day, When cheerful Summer, bright and gay,Had brought once more her gift of flowers,To dress anew her pleasant bowers;When birds and insects on the wingMade all the air with music ring;When sunshine smiled on dell and knoll,Two Ducks set forth to take a stroll.'Twas morning; and each grassy bankOf cooling dew had deeply drank—Each fair young flower... more...

THREE HEAVY HUSBANDS I He had a high nose. He looked at one over the collar, so to speak. His regard was very assured, and his speech was that short bundle of monosyllables which the subaltern throws at the orderly. He had never been questioned, and, the precedent being absent, he had never questioned himself. Why should he? We live by question and answer, but we do not know the reply to anything until... more...

Danny Deever "What are the bugles blowin' for?" said Files-on-Parade."To turn you out, to turn you out", the Colour-Sergeant said."What makes you look so white, so white?" said Files-on-Parade."I'm dreadin' what I've got to watch", the Colour-Sergeant said.For they're hangin' Danny Deever, you can hear the Dead March play,The regiment's... more...

Buying and Selling   Throughout the day I sit behind the counter of my shop  And the odours of my country are all about me—  Areca nut, and betel leaf, and manioc,  Lychee and suey sen,  Li-un and dried seaweed,  Tchah and sam-shu;  And these carry my mind to half-forgotten days  When tales were plentiful and care was hard to hold.   All day I sell for trifling sums the wares of my... more...

AN INTERPRETER OF LIFE. Poetry, music, and painting are three correlated arts, connected not merely by an accidental classification, but by their intrinsic nature. For they all possess the same essential function, namely, to interpret the uninterpretable, to reveal the undiscoverable, to express the inexpressible. They all attempt, in different forms and through different languages, to translate the... more...

CROWS.THEY stream across the fading western skyA sable cloud, far o'er the lonely leas;Now parting into scattered companies,Now closing up the broken ranks, still highAnd higher yet they mount, while, carelessly,Trail slow behind, athwart the moving treesA lingering few, 'round whom the evening breezePlays with sad whispered murmurs as they fly.A lonely figure, ghostly in the dimAnd darkening... more...

Near the Sign of the BellLiv'd Jobson and NellAnd cobbling of Shoes was his tradeThey agreed very wellThe neighbors did tellFor he was a funny old blade. But Jobson loved whiskeyWhich made him so friskeyHis noddle when once it got inThat frolick he mustAnd kick up a dustFor his customers cared not a pin. The Parson did sendHis Shoes for to mendTo take him on Sunday to ChurchBut Jobson he sworeHe... more...