General Books

CANTO VII "AH me! O Satan! Satan!" loud exclaim'dPlutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:And the kind sage, whom no event surpris'd,To comfort me thus spake: "Let not thy fearHarm thee, for power in him, be sure, is noneTo hinder down this rock thy safe descent."Then to that sworn lip turning, "Peace!"  he cried, "Curs'd wolf! thy fury inward on thyselfPrey,... more...

THE FOX AND THE GEESE. There was once a Goose at the point of death, So she called her three daughters near, And desired them all, with her latest breath, Her last dying words to hear. “There’s a Mr. Fox,” said she, “that I know, Who lives in a covert hard by; To our race he has proved a deadly foe, So beware of his treachery. “Build houses, ere long, of stone or of bricks, And get tiles for... more...

HYMNS.     "SUFFER LITTLE CHILDREN TO COME UNTO ME.""Let little children come to me,"—This is what the Saviour said;Little children, come and seeWhere these gracious words are read.Often on these pages look,—Of the love of God they tell;'Tis indeed a holy book,—Learn to read and love it well.Thus you hear the Saviour speak,—"Come ye all and learn of me";He was... more...

In Spring,While softly cooedThe Dove, SamTold Selina ofHis Love. The Summer Moon smiled on them both,Selina plighted him her Troth. But Autumn brought a gayer Swain—Selina broke it off again. 'Tis Winter now—Selina's slack—She'd give her thumbs to have him back. Yet—When they metShe tossed her head; HeStared at her andCut her dead! But Fate at last to them was kind:It... more...

Christmas Roses A BUNCH of Christmas Roses, dear,To greet my fairest child,I plucked them in my garden whereThe drifting snow lay piled. I cannot bring thee violets dear,Or cowslips growing wild,Or daisy chain for thee to wear,For thee to wear, my child.For all the grassy meadows nearAre clad with snow, my child;Through all the days of winter drearNo ray of sun has smiled.I plucked this bunch of... more...

THE sun withdrew his last pale ray,And clos’d the short and chearless day;Loud blew the wind, and rain and sleetAgainst the cottage casement beat.The busy housewife trimm’d her fire,And drew the oaken settle nigher,[p6]And welcom’d home her own good manTo his clean hearth, his pipe, and can;For Homespun and his bustling wifeWere honest folks in humble life,Who liv’d contented with their lot,And... more...

The Rubáiyát of aPersian KittenWake! for the Golden Cat has put to flightThe Mouse of Darkness with his Paw of Light:Which means, in Plain and simple every-dayUnoriental Speech—The Dawn is bright.They say the Early Bird the Worm shall taste.Then rise, O Kitten! Wherefore, sleeping, wasteThe Fruits of Virtue? Quick! the Early BirdWill soon be on the Flutter—O make haste!The Early Bird has gone,... more...

As in a Rose-Jar As in a rose-jar filled with petals sweet Blown long ago in some old garden place, Mayhap, where you and I, a little space, Drank deep of love and knew that love was fleet— Or leaves once gathered from a lost retreat By one who never will again retrace Her silent footsteps—one, whose gentle face Was fairer than the roses at her feet; So, deep within the vase of memory, I keep my... more...

GENERAL INTRODUCTION B OOKS are as much a part of the furnishing of a house as tables and chairs, and in the making of a home they belong, not with the luxuries but with the necessities. A bookless house is not a home; for a home affords food and shelter for the mind as well as for the body. It is as great an offence against a child to starve his mind as to starve his body, and there is as much danger... more...

HYMEN As from a temple service, tall and dignified, with slow pace, each a queen, the sixteen matrons from the temple of Hera pass before the curtain—a dark purple hung between Ionic columns—of the porch or open hall of a palace. Their hair is bound as the marble hair of the temple Hera. Each wears a crown or diadem of gold. They sing—the music is temple music, deep, simple, chanting notes:From... more...