General Books

SPRING BLOSSOMS. Here, for the infant minds, fair spring,Blossoms of bright truth we bring,Seeds of virtue there to sow,Ere a single weed can grow. Here may you learn how sweet the bliss,To worship nature’s loveliness,Escaping through her flow’ry charm,Each thought or wish to do a harm. For when the tender buds of truth,Expand within the minds of youth,They cast a bloom around the heartThat will... more...

INVOCATION TO THE MUSE.Didactic muse Calliope,Expand thy soothing silent wings,Touch chords of measured harmonyWherein the soul ecstatic sings,Let language fraught with living truthFind such expression by thy art,As shall assist the guides of youthTo fire the soul and win the heart.Remove the barriers which so longHave held in thraldom many a mind,Sing to the deaf a ransom-song,Be eyes to those whose... more...

I The sister Hours in circles linked,Daughters of men, of men the mates,Are gone on flow with the day that winked,With the night that spanned at golden gates.Mothers, they leave us, quickening seed;They bear us grain or flower or weed,As we have sown; is nought extinctFor them we fill to be our Fates.Life of the breath is but the loan;Passing death what we have sown. Pearly are they till the pale... more...

DAISY. This little Daisy we all love,Because it seems to say,“I’m come to tell good girls and boys,That Winter’s gone away.” There is another flower, too,I dearly love to see;The little Snowdrop, peeping throughThe frozen ground at me. PRIMROSE. This is a pretty Primrose,In shady lanes it grows;And early in the pleasant spring,In gardens too it blows. Here is a formal Daffodil,Though common,... more...

1At Palaiseau, there liv’d a maid,In form and features mild;The stings of conscience never prey’d,On this devoted child.She serv’d a wealthy farmer there,An honest soul was he;Her comforts were his only care,And all he wish’d to see. 3His wife was of another mould,And prematurely smart;Hasty, and rash, with that a scold,Yet still a feeling heart. One summers eve’, her labor done,She sat in... more...

 1. How, my dear Mary,—are you critic-bitten (For vipers kill, though dead) by some review, That you condemn these verses I have written, Because they tell no story, false or true? What, though no mice are caught by a young kitten, _5 May it not leap and play as grown cats do, Till its claws come? Prithee, for this one time, Content thee with a visionary rhyme.  2. What hand would crush... more...

FANTASIES.   Altruism: A Legend of Old Persia. In the flowery land of Persia Long ago, as poets tell, Where three rivers met together Did a happy people dwell. Never did these happy people Suffer sickness, plague, or dearth, Living in a golden climate In the fairest place on earth, Living thus thro' endless summers And half-summers hardly colder, Growing, tho' they hardly guessed it, Very... more...

Walter Scott was born in Edinburgh, August 15, 1771, of an ancient Scotch clan numbering in its time many a hard rider and good fighter, and more than one of these petty chieftains, half-shepherd and half-robber, who made good the winter inroads into their stock of beeves by spring forays and cattle drives across the English Border. Scott's great-grandfather was the famous "Beardie" of... more...

THE NAME OF MY BOOK. The reader, perhaps, as he turns over the first pages of this volume, is puzzled, right at the outset, with the meaning of my title, The Diving Bell. It is plain enough to Uncle Frank, and possibly it is to you; but it may not be; so I will tell you what a diving bell is, and then, probably, you can guess the reason why I have given this name to the following pages. If you will... more...

RICHARD AND HIS BROTHER.Richard, come and play with me,Underneath the willow tree;Sitting in its peaceful shade,We'll sing the song papa has made,Whilst its drooping branches spread,Stretching far above our head,Sweetly tempering the blazeOf the sun's meridian rays.There the rose and violet blow,The lily with her bell of snow,And the richly scented woodbine,Round about its trunk doth... more...