CANTO XXIX SO were mine eyes inebriate with viewOf the vast multitude, whom various woundsDisfigur'd, that they long'd to stay and weep.But Virgil rous'd me: "What yet gazest on?Wherefore doth fasten yet thy sight belowAmong the maim'd and miserable shades?Thou hast not shewn in any chasm besideThis weakness.  Know, if thou wouldst number themThat two and twenty miles the valley windsIts circuit, and already is the moonBeneath our feet: the... more...

CANTO XVIII THERE is a place within the depths of hellCall'd Malebolge, all of rock dark-stain'dWith hue ferruginous, e'en as the steepThat round it circling winds.  Right in the midstOf that abominable region, yawnsA spacious gulf profound, whereof the frameDue time shall tell.  The circle, that remains,Throughout its round, between the gulf and baseOf the high craggy banks, successive formsTen trenches, in its hollow bottom sunk.As... more...

CANTO IX THE hue, which coward dread on my pale cheeksImprinted, when I saw my guide turn back,Chas'd that from his which newly they had worn,And inwardly restrain'd it.  He, as oneWho listens, stood attentive: for his eyeNot far could lead him through the sable air,And the thick-gath'ring cloud.  "It yet behoovesWe win this fight"—thus he began—"if not—Such aid to us is offer'd.—Oh, how longMe seems it, ere the... more...

CANTO VII "AH me! O Satan! Satan!" loud exclaim'dPlutus, in accent hoarse of wild alarm:And the kind sage, whom no event surpris'd,To comfort me thus spake: "Let not thy fearHarm thee, for power in him, be sure, is noneTo hinder down this rock thy safe descent."Then to that sworn lip turning, "Peace!"  he cried,"Curs'd wolf! thy fury inward on thyselfPrey, and consume thee! Through the dark profoundNot without cause he passes.  So 't... more...

McLOUGHLIN BRO'S 30 BEEKMAN St   There was a crooked man, and he went a crooked mile,And he found a crooked six-pence against a crooked stile;He bought a crooked hat, which caught a crooked mouse,And they all lived together in a little crooked house. Go to bed Tom, go to bed Tom—Merry or sober, go to bed Tom.   Little Tommy Grace,Had a pain in his face,So that he could not learn a letter;   When in came Dicky... more...

Rupert Brooke was both fair to see and winning in his ways. There was at the first contact both bloom and charm; and most of all there was life. To use the word his friends describe him by, he was "vivid". This vitality, though manifold in expression, is felt primarily in his sensations — surprise mingled with delight — "One after one, like tasting a sweet food." This is life's "first fine rapture". It makes him patient to name over... more...

Oh, ye, who so lately were blythesome and gay, At the Butterfly’s Banquet, carousing away; Your feasts and your revels of pleasure are fled, For the soul of the Banquet, the Butterfly’s dead. No longer the Flies and the Emmets advance, To join with their friends in the Grasshopper’s dance; For see, his thin form o’er the favourite bend, And the Grasshopper mourns for the loss of his friend. And hark, to... more...

INTRODUCTION. Early in the present century John Harris—one of the successors to the business of "Honest John Newbery," now carried on by Messrs Griffith & Farran at the old corner of St. Paul's Churchyard—began the publication of a series of little books, which for many years were probably among the most famous of the productions of the House. Now, however, according to the fate which usually overtakes books for children, nearly... more...

Canto I. Right beautiful is Torksey's hall,Adown by meadowed Trent;Right beautiful that mouldering wall,And remnant of a turret tall,Shorn of its battlement.For, while the children of the SpringBlush into life, and die;And Summer's joy-birds take light wingWhen Autumn mists are nigh;And soon the year—a winterling—With its fall'n leaves doth lie;That ruin gray—Mirror'd, alway,Deep in the silver stream,Doth summon weird-wrought... more...

The BABES IN THE WOOD.   Now ponder well, you parents deare,These wordes which I shall write;A doleful story you shall heare,In time brought forth to light. A gentleman of good accountIn Norfolke dwelt of late.Who did in honour far surmountMost men of his estate. Sore sicke he was, and like to dye,No helpe his life could save;His wife by him as sicke did lye,And both possest one grave.   No love between these two was lost,Each... more...