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Recent inquiries into the life of Henry Vaughan have added but little to the information already contained in the memoirs of Mr. Lyte and Dr. Grosart. I have, however, been enabled to put together a few notes on this somewhat obscure subject, which may be taken as supplementary to Mr. Beeching's Introduction in Vol. I. It will be well to preface them by reprinting the account of Anthony à Wood,... more...

INTRODUCTION    Piping down the valleys wild,     Piping songs of pleasant glee,   On a cloud I saw a child,     And he laughing said to me:    "Pipe a song about a Lamb!"     So I piped with merry cheer.   "Piper, pipe that song again;"     So I piped: he wept to hear.    "Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;     Sing thy songs of happy... more...

The ancestry of William Cullen Bryant might have been inferred from the character of his writings, which reflect whatever is best and noblest in the life and thought of New England. It was a tradition that the first Bryant of whom there is any account in the annals of the New World came over in the Mayflower, but the tradition is not authenticated. What is known of this gentleman, Mr. Stephen Bryant,... more...

POETRY FOR POETRY'S SAKE One who, after twenty years, is restored to the University where he was taught and first tried to teach, and who has received at the hands of his Alma Mater an honour of which he never dreamed, is tempted to speak both of himself and of her. But I remember that you have come to listen to my thoughts about a great subject, and not to my feelings about myself; and, of... more...

RETROSPECTION.I'd wandered, for a week or more,Through hills, and dells, and doleful green'ry,Lodging at any carnal door,Sustaining life on pork, and scenery.A weary scribe, I'd just let slipMy collar, for a short vacation,And started on a walking trip,That cheapest form of dissipation—And vilest, Oh! confess my pen,That I, prosaic, rather hate your"Ode to a Sky-lark" sort of... more...

PREFACE This little book was written by four friends, three of them under-graduates at Oxford, and all of them penetrated with the spirit of the higher culture of our time. The poems, it is clear, have been carefully selected; and, it is probable, have been diligently polished. There is not one which is not remarkable for delicacy of style and conscious aiming after excellence in art. Whether these... more...

The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock S'io credesse che mia risposta fosseA persona che mai tornasse al mondo,Questa fiamma staria senza piu scosse.Ma perciocche giammai di questo fondoNon torno vivo alcun, s'i'odo il vero,Senza tema d'infamia ti rispondo. Let us go then, you and I,When the evening is spread out against the skyLike a patient etherized upon a table;Let us go, through... more...

by: Anonymous
Punky Dunk, so fat, was a black and white catOf exceedingly tender years.He had black on his nose and the tips of his toes,On the end of his tail and his ears.He cast his lot in a very soft spotFor his bed was a box full of straw,And he slept all night with his eyes shut tightAnd his little black nose on his paw.Punky Dunk would peep, though he seemed asleep,At the bird in its cage of brass,And his tail... more...

by: Anonymous
Punky Dunk, very sly, with a wink of his eyeStrolled lazily all through the house;To the cellar he went and the morning he spentOn a hunt for a fat little mouse."Over there by the coal," he said, "Mouse has his hole,So I'll sit there beside it and wait.There's a trap with some cheese just as nice as you please,And Mouse soon will come out for that bait."Punky sat by the trap,... more...

by: Anonymous
Punky Dunk on a day in the middle of MayLooked around like a wise little cat,And he said with surprise: "Can I trust my own eyes?Well, what do you know about that?" For a wagon of blue, with a man in blue, too,At the sidewalk was just backing up.And the man brought a crate that was heavy of weightAnd inside was a gay spotted pup. Now Punky felt hurt as he gazed very pertAt the gay spotted pup... more...