General Books

PART I PUPPYHOOD "What other nature yours than of a child Whose dumbness finds a voice mighty to call, In wordless pity, to the souls of all, Whose lives I turn to profit, and whose mute And constant friendship links the man and brute?" Still half in dream, upon the stair I hearA patter coming nearer and more near,And then upon my chamber doorA gentle tapping,For dogs, though proud, are... more...

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... more...

THE FAR AWAY COUNTRY NORA HOPPER CHESSON Far away's the country where I desire to go, Far away's the country where the blue roses grow, Far away's the country and very far away, And who would travel thither must go 'twixt night and day. Far away's the country, and the seas are wild That you must voyage over, grown man or chrisom child, O'er leagues of land and water a... more...

The Cat-tail Arrow BY CLARA DOTY BATES ittle Sammie made a bow, Well indeed he loved to whittle, Shaped it like the half of O— How he could I scarcely know, For his fingers were so little. As he whittled came a sigh: "If I only had an arrow; Something light enough to fly To the tree-tops or the sky! Then I'd have such fun tomorrow." Then he thought of all the slim Things that grow—the... more...

Gerontion Thou hast nor youth nor ageBut as it were an after dinner sleepDreaming of both. Here I am, an old man in a dry month,Being read to by a boy, waiting for rain.I was neither at the hot gatesNor fought in the warm rainNor knee deep in the salt marsh, heaving a cutlass,Bitten by flies, fought.My house is a decayed house,And the jew squats on the window sill, the owner,Spawned in some estaminet... more...

NOTE The motif of the story embodied in the following poem was crudely outlined in a brief sketch printed in an early collection of the authors verse, and subsequently cancelled for a purpose not until now accomplished. Wyndham Towers is not to be confused with this discarded sketch, the text of which has furnished only a phrase, or an indirect suggestion, here and there. That the writer's method,... more...

Celia was laughing. Hopefully I said: “How shall this beauty that we share, This love, remain aware Beyond our happy breathing of the air? How shall it be fulfilled and perfected?... If you were dead, How then should I be comforted?” But Celia knew instead: “He who finds beauty here, shall find it there.” A halo gathered round her hair. I looked and saw her wisdom bare The living bosom of the... more...

A FROSTY NIGHT. Mother Alice, dear, what ails you,Dazed and white and shaken?Has the chill night numbed you?Is it fright you have taken? Alice Mother, I am very well,I felt never better,Mother, do not hold me so,Let me write my letter. Mother Sweet, my dear, what ails you? Alice No, but I am well;The night was cold and frosty,There's no more to tell. Mother Ay, the night was frosty,Coldly gaped... more...

England's Fields     England's cliffs are white like milk,      But England's fields are green;    The grey fogs creep across the moors,      But warm suns stand between.  And not so far from London town, beyond the brimming street,  A thousand little summer winds are singing in the wheat.     Red-lipped poppies stand and burn,      The hedges are... more...

THE BASEMENT When Fritz, the Janitor's bad kid, Went snooping in the basement, He found a rocket snugly hid Beneath the window casement. He struck a match with one fell swoop; Then, on the concrete kneeling, He lit the rocket and—she—oop! It shot up through the ceiling. [pg] [pg] The Steiners on the floor above Of breakfast were partaking; Crash! came the rocket, unannounced, And set them all... more...