General Books

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...

THE SYLVAN CABIN A CENTENARY ODE ON THE BIRTH OF LINCOLNIO, fairest Dame of sylvan glades,We come to pay thee homage due,Embrace thee softly and to kissThy lovely, long-forsaken cheeks;To smooth thy flowing silver locksAnd bind about thy snowy neckA necklace golden studded fullWith rarest gems and shining pearls.Our eyes, though sometimes dimmed with tears,In purer lustre sparkle forthWhene'er... 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...

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...

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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...

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 Grand Old Man of Oakworth. Come, hand me down that rustic harp,   From off that rugged wall,For I must sing another song   To suit the Muse’s call,For she is bent to sing a pœan,   On this eventful year,In praise of the philanthropist   Whom all his friends hold dear—      The Grand Old Man of Oakworth,      Beyond his eightieth year! No flattery!  My honest Muse,   Nor... more...

Old Mother Duck has hatched a broodOf ducklings, small and callow:Their little wings are short, their downIs mottled gray and yellow. There is a quiet little stream,That runs into the moat,Where tall green sedges spread their leaves,And water-lilies float. Close by the margin of the brook,The old duck made her nest,Of straw, and leaves, and withered grass,And down from her own breast. View larger... more...

DEDICATION Bob Southey! You're a poet, poet laureate,And representative of all the race.Although 'tis true that you turned out a Tory atLast, yours has lately been a common case.And now my epic renegade, what are ye atWith all the lakers, in and out of place?A nest of tuneful persons, to my eyeLike four and twenty blackbirds in a pye, Which pye being opened they began to sing'(This old... more...