General Books

TEASE I WILL give you all my keys,  You shall be my châtelaine,You shall enter as you please,  As you please shall go again. When I hear you jingling through  All the chambers of my soul,How I sit and laugh at you  In your vain housekeeping rôle. Jealous of the smallest cover,  Angry at the simplest door;Well, you anxious, inquisitive lover,  Are you pleased with what's in store? You... more...

Hannibal. Could a Numidian horseman ride no faster? Marcellus! oh! Marcellus! He moves not—he is dead. Did he not stir his fingers? Stand wide, soldiers—wide, forty paces; give him air; bring water; halt! Gather those broad leaves, and all the rest, growing under the brushwood; unbrace his armour. Loose the helmet first—his breast rises. I fancied his eyes were fixed on me—they have rolled back... more...

OUR generation already is overpast,And thy lov'd legacy, Gerard, hath lainCoy in my home; as once thy heart was fainOf shelter, when God's terror held thee fastIn life's wild wood at Beauty and Sorrow aghast;Thy sainted sense tramme'd in ghostly pain,Thy rare ill-broker'd talent in disdain:Yet love of Christ will win man's love at last.  Hell wars without; but, dear, the... more...

THE THREE BEARS. THERE were once three bears, who lived in a wood,Their porridge was thick, and their chairs and beds good.The biggest bear, Bruin, was surly and rough;His wife, Mrs. Bruin, was called Mammy Muff.Their son, Tiny-cub, was like Dame Goose’s lad;He was not very good, nor yet very bad.Now Bruin, the biggest—the surly old bear—Had a great granite bowl, and a cast-iron chair.Mammy Muffs... more...

TO MY PEN I Thou feeble implement of mind,Wherewith she strove to scrawl hername;But, like a mitcher, left behindNo signature, no stroke, no claim,No hint that she hath pined— Shall ever come a stronger time,When thou shalt be a tool of skill,And steadfast purpose, to fulfilA higher task than rhyme? II Thou puny instrument of soul,Wherewith she labours to impartHer efforts at some arduous goal;But... more...

Canto I.Right beautiful is Torksey's hall,Adown by meadowed Trent;Right beautiful that mouldering wall,And remnant of a turret tall,Shorn of its battlement. For, while the children of the SpringBlush into life, and die;And Summer's joy-birds take light wingWhen Autumn mists are nigh;And soon the year—a winterling—With its fall'n leaves doth lie;That ruin gray—Mirror'd,... more...

I. STEADFAST as any soldier of the line He served his England, with the imminent death Poised at his heart. Nor could the world divine The constant peril of each burdened breath. England, and the honour of England, he still served Walking the strict path, with the old high pride Of those invincible knights who never swerved One hair's breadth from the way until they died. Quietness he loved, and... more...

THE OLD ARM-CHAIR. I love it, I love it; and who shall dare To chide me for loving that old arm-chair? I've cherished it long as a sainted prize; I've bedewed it with tears and embalmed it with sighs 'Tis bound by a thousand bands to my heart; Not a tie will break, not a link will start. Would ye learn the spell?—a mother sat there: And a sacred thing is that old arm-chair. In... more...

Some one like you makes the heart seem the lighter, Some one like you makes the day's work worth while, Some one like you makes the sun shine the brighter, Some one like you makes a sigh half a smile. Life's an odd pattern of briers and roses, Clouds sometimes darken, nor sun shining through, Then the cloud lifts and the sun light discloses Near to me, dear to me—Some one like you. Some one... more...

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...