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Showing: 21-30 results of 483

1.  HAWTHORN AND LAVENDER ENVOY My songs were once of the sunrise:   They shouted it over the bar;First-footing the dawns, they flourished,   And flamed with the morning star. My songs are now of the sunset:   Their brows are touched with light,But their feet are lost in the shadows   And wet with the dews of night. Yet for the joy in their making   Take them, O fond and true,And for his... more...

I Out of the little chapel I burst  Into the fresh night-air again.Five minutes full, I waited first  In the doorway, to escape the rainThat drove in gusts down the common's centre  At the edge of which the chapel stands,Before I plucked up heart to enter.  Heaven knows how many sorts of handsReached past me, groping for the latchOf the inner door that hung on catchMore obstinate the more they... more...

ALL THAT MATTERS When all that matters shall be written downAnd the long record of our years is told,Where sham, like flesh, must perish and grow cold;When the tomb closes on our fair renownAnd priest and layman, sage and motleyed clownMust quit the places which they dearly hold,What to our credit shall we find enscrolled?And what shall be the jewels of our crown?I fancy we shall hear to our surpriseSome little deeds of kindness, long... more...

Under the window is my garden, Where sweet, sweet flowers grow; And in the pear-tree dwells a robin, The dearest bird I know. Tho' I peep out betimes in the morning, Still the flowers are up the first; Then I try and talk to the robin, And perhaps he'd chat—if he durst. 13 Will you be my little wife, If I ask you? Do! I'll buy you such a Sunday frock, A nice umbrella, too. And you... more...

AFTER ALL, WHAT IS POETRY? BY JOHN RAYMOND HOWARD. Considering the immense volume of poetical writing produced, and lost or accumulated, by all nations through the ages, it is of curious interest that no generally accepted definition of the word "Poetry" has ever been made. Of course, all versifiers aim at "poetry"; yet, what is poetry? Many definitions have been attempted. Some of these would exclude work by poets whom the world agrees to... more...


The Land God Forgot The lonely sunsets flare forlornDown valleys dreadly desolate;The lordly mountains soar in scornAs still as death, as stern as fate.The lonely sunsets flame and die;The giant valleys gulp the night;The monster mountains scrape the sky,Where eager stars are diamond-bright.So gaunt against the gibbous moon,Piercing the silence velvet-piled,A lone wolf howls his ancient rune —The fell arch-spirit of the Wild.O outcast... more...

The SwordSinging—The voice of the Sword from the heart of the SwordClanging imperiousForth from Time’s battlementsHis ancient and triumphing Song. In the beginning,Ere God inspired HimselfInto the clay thingThumbed to His image,The vacant, the naked shellSoon to be Man:Thoughtful He pondered it,Prone there and impotent,Fragile, invitingAttack and discomfiture:Then, with a smile—As He heard in the ThunderThat laughed over... more...

TO BELGIUM Our tears, our songs, our laurels—what are these  To thee in thy Gethsemane of loss,Stretched in thine unimagined agonies  On Hell's last engine of the Iron Cross. For such a world as this that thou shouldst die  Is price too vast—yet, Belgium, hadst thou soldThyself, O then had fled from out the earth  Honour for ever, and left only Gold. Nor diest thou—for soon shalt thou... more...

THE PECULIAR HISTORY OF THECHEWING-GUM MAN.   WILLIE, an’ Wallie, an’ Huldy Ann,They went an’ built a big CHEWIN’-GUM MAN:It was none o’ your teenty little dots,With pinhole eyes an’ pencil-spots;But this was a terribul big one—well,’T was a’most as high as the Palace Hotel!It took ’em a year to chew the gum!!And Willie he done it all, ’cept someThat Huldy got her ma to... more...

SUPPRESSED POEMS. THE JOURNALISTS AND MINOS.I chanced the other eve,—But how I ne'er will tell,—The paper to receive.That's published down in hell.In general one may guess,I little care to seeThis free-corps of the pressGot up so easily;But suddenly my eyesA side-note chanced to meet,And fancy my surpriseAt reading in the sheet:—"For twenty weary springs"(The post from Erebus,Remark me, always bringsUnpleasant news to... more...