General Books

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...

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...

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...

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...

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...

FROM THE PENTLANDS LOOKING NORTH AND SOUTH Around my feet the clouds are drawnIn the cold mystery of the dawn;No breezes cheer, no guests intrudeMy mossy, mist-clad solitude;When sudden down the steeps of skyFlames a long, lightening wind. On highThe steel-blue arch shines clear, and far,In the low lands where cattle are,Towns smoke. And swift, a haze, a gleam,—The Firth lies like a frozen... more...

JACK and JILL,Went up the hill,To fetch a pail of water,Jack fell down,And broke his crown,And Jill came tumbling after.Then up JACK got,And home did trot,As fast as he could caper;DAME GILL did the job,To plaster his nob,With Vinegar and brown paper.Then JILL came in,And she did grin,To see JACK’S paper plaster,Her mother put her,A fools cap on,For laughing at Jack’s disaster.This made JILL... more...

YE votaries of Fashion, who have it to boast,That your names to posterity will not be lost;That the lastdue honor paidTo the still-blooming Dowager’s gay Masquerade;That the Minister’s Dinner has blaz’d in,That the Countess’s Gala has jingled in rhymes;Oh! tell me, who would not endeavour to please,And exert ev’ry nerve, for rewards such as these?[p6]It was early in Spring—but no matter what... more...

CONTENTS OF FIRST LINES: To the Man of the High NorthMy rhymes are rough, and often in my rhyming Men of the High NorthMen of the High North, the wild sky is blazing; The Ballad of the Northern LightsOne of the Down and Out—that's me. Stare at me well, ay, stare! The Ballad of the Black Fox SkinThere was Claw-fingered Kitty and Windy Ike living the life of shame, The Ballad of Pious PeteI tried... more...

JONGLEURS. What is the stir in the street?Hurry of feet!And after,A sound as of pipes and of tabers! Men of the conflicts and labors,Struggling and shifting and shoving,Pushing and pounding your neighbors,Fighting for leeway for laughter,Toiling for leisure for loving!Hark, through the window and up to the rafter,Madder and merrier,Deeper and verier,Sweeter, contrarier,Dafter and dafter,A song... more...