General Books

Romance IWhen I go forth to greet the glad-faced Spring,Just at the time of opening apple-buds,When brooks are laughing, winds are whispering,On babbling hillsides or in warbling woods,There is an unseen presence that eludes:—Perhaps a Dryad, in whose tresses clingThe loamy odors of old solitudes,Who, from her beechen doorway, calls; and leadsMy soul to follow; now with dimpling wordsOf leaves; and... more...

THICK-SPRINKLED BUNTINGThick-sprinkled bunting! flag of stars!Long yet your road, fateful flag—long yet your road, and lined with bloody death,For the prize I see at issue at last is the world,All its ships and shores I see interwoven with your threads greedy banner;Dream'd again the flags of kings, highest borne, to flaunt unrival'd?O hasten flag of man—O with sure and steady step,... more...

Aladdin poor the wizard found,Who moved from cavern’s mouth a stone;Then bade him go beneath the ground,And pace through unknown realms alone,Till from a niche he bore awayA lamp—extinguishing its ray.  The youth obedient instant hied,When fruits luxuriant met his sight;The white were pearls in snowy pride,Diamonds the clear—of brilliant light;For red the rubies dazzling blazed,Whereof Aladdin... more...

LET ME SING OF WHAT I KNOWA wild west Coast, a little Town,Where little Folk go up and down,Tides flow and winds blow:Night and Tempest and the Sea,Human Will and Human Fate:What is little, what is great?Howsoe'er the answer be,Let me sing of what I know.Adieu to Belashanny!where I was bred and born;Go where I may, I'll think of you,as sure as night and morn.The kindly spot, the friendly... more...

SONGS OF TWO I   Last night I dreamed this dream: That I was dead;      And as I slept, forgot of man and God,      That other dreamless sleep of rest,      I heard a footstep on the sod,      As of one passing overhead,—  And lo, thou, Dear, didst touch me on the breast,      Saying: "What shall I write against thy name          That men should... more...

INTRODUCTION BJÖRNSON AS A LYRIC POET I lived far more than e'er I sang;Thought, ire, and mirth unceasing rang  Around me, where I guested;To be where loud life's battles callFor me was well-nigh more than all  My pen on page arrested. What's true and strong has growing-room,And will perhaps eternal bloom,  Without black ink's salvation,And he will be, who least it... more...

In great King Arthur’s reign, Tom’s history first begun;A farmer’s wife had sigh’d in vain to have a darling son!A fairy listen’d to her call, and granted her the same;But being very small, Tom Thumb she did him name.To please him every means she’d take,And a pudding large did for him make;But in trying to obtain a sip,Into the batter did he slip!The batter in the pot went plump;Tom made the... more...

Many editions of Gray have been published in the last fifty years, some of them very elegant, and some showing considerable editorial labor, but not one, so far as I am aware, critically exact either in text or in notes. No editor since Mathias ( 1814) has given the 2d line of the Elegy as Gray wrote and printed it; while Mathias's mispunctuation of the 123d line has been copied by his successors,... more...

PREFACE. In this, the third series of Breakfast-Table conversations, a slight dramatic background shows off a few talkers and writers, aided by certain silent supernumeraries. The machinery is much like that of the two preceding series. Some of the characters must seem like old acquaintances to those who have read the former papers. As I read these over for the first time for a number of years, I... more...

INTRODUCTION  A mid the many celebrations last Christmas Eve, in various places by different persons, there was one, in New York City, not like any other anywhere. A company of men, women, and children went together just after the evening service in their church, and, standing around the tomb of the author of "A Visit from St. Nicholas," recited together the words of the poem which we all know... more...