General Books

ON LOVE What is love? Ask him who lives, what is life? ask him who adores, what is God? I know not the internal constitution of other men, nor even thine, whom I now address. I see that in some external attributes they resemble me, but when, misled by that appearance, I have thought to appeal to something in common, and unburthen my inmost soul to them, I have found my language misunderstood, like one... more...

THE LOVES OF THE PLANTS.         Descend, ye hovering Sylphs! aerial Quires,        And sweep with little hands your silver lyres;        With fairy footsteps print your grassy rings,        Ye Gnomes! accordant to the tinkling strings;5 While in soft notes I tune to oaten reed        Gay hopes, and amorous sorrows of the mead.—        From giant Oaks,... more...

A GENTLEMAN OF THE HIGHWAYS By KATHRYN JARBOE Since early morning nothing but sunshine had entered the hospitable doorway of The Jolly Grig, a tavern not a dozen miles from the outer edge of London town. Across the white, sanded floor golden patches of light had moved with measured tread, and merry motes had danced in the golden beams, but nothing else had stirred. On the deep hearth were piled huge... more...

THE DONG WITH A LUMINOUS NOSE. When awful darkness and silence reignOver the great Gromboolian plain,Through the long, long wintry nights; When the angry breakers roarAs they beat on the rocky shore;When Storm-clouds brood on the towering heights Of the Hills of the Chankly Bore,— Then, through the vast and gloomy darkThere moves what seems a fiery spark,—A lonely spark with silvery rays Piercing... more...

TheCities are full of pride,Challenging each to each—This from her mountain-side,That from her burthened beach.They count their ships full tale—Their corn and oil and wine,Derrick and loom and bale,And rampart's gun-flecked line;City by city they hail:"Hast aught to match with mine?"And the men that breed from themThey traffic up and down,But cling to their cities' hemAs a child to... more...

QUEEN BERNGERD Long ere the Sun the heaven arrayed,For her morning gift her Lord she prayed:“Give me Samsoe to have and to hold,And from every maiden a crown of gold.”   Woe befall her, Berngerd. The King he answered Berngerd thus:“Madam, crave something less of us,For many a maid lives ’neath our swayTo ’scape from death could the like not pay.”   Woe befall her, Berngerd. “My gentle... more...

INTRODUCTION The extreme rarity of The Death-Wake is a reason for its republication, which may or may not be approved of by collectors. Of the original edition the Author says that more than seventy copies were sold in the first week of publication, but thereafter the publisher failed in business. Mr. Stoddart recovered the sheets of his poem, and his cook gradually, and perhaps not injudiciously,... more...

In Macao. A Story from the "Grasshopper's Library." I was seated one pleasant day in the garden, which was given to the city of Macao by the Marcos family, near the grotto sacred to the poet Camoens, when a Portuguese priest came from among the wilderness of flowers and sat beside me. He spoke English with a pleasant accent and we read Bowring's effusion together, as it is engraved on... more...

In the merry spring time, thus says my song,When the sun shines bright and the days grow long,And the crocuses brilliant, in purple and gold,Bloom in the gardens in numbers untold;When in the fields the grass grows green,And a few early lambs are seen;When daffodils in gaudy gownsLook gay upon the verdant downs,And fair spring flowers of each degreeIn every sheltered nook you see. See image   HOW MANY... more...

Strange Meeting It seemed that out of the battle I escapedDown some profound dull tunnel, long since scoopedThrough granites which Titanic wars had groined.Yet also there encumbered sleepers groaned,Too fast in thought or death to be bestirred.Then, as I probed them, one sprang up, and staredWith piteous recognition in fixed eyes,Lifting distressful hands as if to bless.And by his smile, I knew that... more...