Poetry
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by:
Edward Lear
THE OWL AND THE PUSSY-CAT. I. The Owl and the Pussy-Cat went to seaIn a beautiful pea-green boat: They took some honey, and plenty of moneyWrapped up in a five-pound note. The Owl looked up to the stars above,And sang to a small guitar, "O lovely Pussy, O Pussy, my love,What a beautiful Pussy you are, You are, You are! What a beautiful Pussy you are!" II. Pussy said to the Owl, "You elegant...
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TO MY MOTHERMother, to whose valiant will,Battling long ago,What the heaping years fulfil,Light and song, I owe;Send my little book a-field,Fronting praise or blameWith the shining flag and shieldOf your name.It fell on a day I was happy,And the winds, the concave sky,The flowers and the beasts in the meadowSeemed happy even as I;And I stretched my hands to the meadow,To the bird, the beast, the...
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by:
Laurence Binyon
PREFACE This little book was written by four friends, three of them under-graduates at Oxford, and all of them penetrated with the spirit of the higher culture of our time. The poems, it is clear, have been carefully selected; and, it is probable, have been diligently polished. There is not one which is not remarkable for delicacy of style and conscious aiming after excellence in art. Whether these...
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by:
Clara M. Beede
TO NEW YORKFor maid and lad New York is fairy land,Delightful charms in gorgeous brilliant lure!Our youth do struggle on ambition's tour.They meet life's challenge with true heart and hand.Forgotten trails are marked with scar and wand;A blasted rock and broken twigs assureThe traveler that others fought the moor,And sailed the stormy breakers, crossed the sandTo build the city on a granite...
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THE VOICE THAT SINGS The voice that sings across the night Of long forgotten days and things,Is there an ear to hear aright The voice that sings? It is as when a curfew rings Melodious in the dying light,A sound that flies on pulsing wings. And faded eyes that once were bright Brim over, as to life it bringsThe echo of a dead delight, The voice that sings. In vain you fervently...
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Prologue As of old Phoenician men, to the Tin Isles sailingStraight against the sunset and the edges of the earth,Chaunted loud above the storm and the strange sea's wailing,Legends of their people and the land that gave them birth—Sang aloud to Baal-Peor, sang unto the horned maiden,Sang how they should come again with the Brethon treasure laden,Sang of all the pride and glory of their hardy...
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by:
Cale Young Rice
INVOCATION (From a High Cliff)Sweep unrestOut of my blood,Winds of the sea! Sweep the fogOut of my brainFor I am oneWho has told Life he will be free.Who will not doubt of work that's done,Who will not fear the work to do.Who will hold peaks PrometheanBetter than all Jove's honey-dew.Who when the Vulture tears his breastWill smile into the Terror's Eyes.Who for the World has this...
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PREFACE There are two great traditions of womanhood. One presents the Madonna brooding over the mystery of motherhood; the other, more confusedly, tells of the acolyte, the priestess, the clairvoyante of the unknown gods. This latter exists complete in herself, a personality as definite and as significant as a symbol. She is behind all the processes of art, though she rarely becomes a conscious artist,...
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by:
L. P. Hubbard
A NOTE TO THE MODERN READER A Little Book for a Little Cook was originally published by Pillsbury in 1905. This new reproduction has all of the recipes from the original softcover edition, but is being reissued with the modern reader in mind. The collector will note some small departures from the original book, but the little cook will no doubt find what is here to be fun to cook, delicious, and warmly...
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by:
Anonymous
A VISION.vision came! It was not in the hourOf sleep; but when the unresisted powerOf magic Fancy, threw, with full control,Her half prophetic mantle o’er the soul.The place was thron’d like Britain’s royal halls,And her proud navy deck’d the tap’stried walls.Statesmen and heroes grac’d the pictur’d scene;Fathers who were what since their sons have been;And some whose laurell’d brows...
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