General Books

AFTER HORACE   What asks the Bard? He prays for nought    But what the truly virtuous crave:  That is, the things he plainly ought        To have.   'Tis not for wealth, with all the shocks    That vex distracted millionaires,  Plagued by their fluctuating stocks        And shares:   While plutocrats their millions new    Expend upon each costly whim,  A... more...

THE GREEN KNIGHTKing Arthur and his court were blithe and gayIn high-towered Camelot, on Christmas day,For all the Table Round were back again,At peace with God and with their fellow-men.Their shields hung idly on the pictured wall;Their blood-stained banners decked the festal hallLight footsteps, rustling on the rush-strewn floors,And laughter, rippling down long corridors,Attested minds at ease and... more...

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CANTO XXIX SO were mine eyes inebriate with viewOf the vast multitude, whom various woundsDisfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep. But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on?Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight belowAmong the maim'd and miserable shades?Thou hast not shewn in any chasm besideThis weakness.  Know, if thou wouldst number themThat two and twenty miles the... more...

Some do endyte / vpon good moralyte Of chyualrous actes / done in antyquyte Whose fables and storyes ben pastymes pleasaunt To lordes and ladyes / as is theyr lykynge Dyuers to moralyte / ben oft attendaunt And many delyte to rede of louynge Youth loueth aduenture / pleasure and lykynge Aege foloweth polycy / sadnesse and prudence Thus they do dyffre / eche in experyence I lytell or nought / experte in... more...

THE RECALL I am the land of their fathers.In me the virtue stays.I will bring back my children,After certain days. Under their feet in the grassesMy clinging magic runs.They shall return as strangers,They shall remain as sons. Over their heads in the branchesOf their new-bought, ancient trees,I weave an incantationAnd draw them to my knees. Scent of smoke in the evening.Smell of rain in the night,The... 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. The original, of which this is a translation, is universally considered one of the very best among many beautiful poems written by the same illustrious author. The sublime didactic thoughts therein expressed, in language majestic and yet so simple, have won for it a constantly increasing popularity; and, during half a century, in a language so rich in literary beauties as the Swedish, have... more...

ES, she has grown old, And has caught a bad cold, Only bread and milk she touches, Except a little gruel, but she burns a greatdeal of fuel, and you may count,One, Two, Three, a great many times,while she hobbles across the room on hercrutches.   NOW many Lives has the Cat got? NONE! Is it true then, as they said, That poor old Puss is dead, So many lives as she’d got?   ES, the song has all been... more...

APPLES so round, and bright, and red—O, how I love to see;They look so tempting as they hangUpon the green old tree. A naughty boy once tried to stealFrom off his neighbor's bough;But sad to hear, adown he fell,And is a cripple now.   BOYS oftentimes are rough and rude,And join in wicked play;But hoop and top, and bat and ball,Are better any day. "Hark! hark! I hear a tinkling bell;It... more...