Our website is made possible by displaying online advertisements to our visitors.
Please consider supporting us by disabling your ad blocker.

Download links will be available after you disable the ad blocker and reload the page.
Showing: 1-10 results of 897

by Unknown
Mr. Editor:—Your correspondent, N.B.S., has so decisively given a quietus to the question as to the birthplace of Cotton Mather, that there is no danger of its ever being revived again. But there is another question of equal importance to many, to the literary world in particular, which should in like manner be put to rest. Who was Mother Goose? and when were her melodies first given to the world? These are questions which have been often... more...

In the tenth book of the Republic, when Plato has completed his final burning denunciation of Poetry, the false Siren, the imitator of things which themselves are shadows, the ally of all that is low and weak in the soul against that which is high and strong, who makes us feed the things we ought to starve and serve the things we ought to rule, he ends with a touch of compunction: 'We will give her champions, not poets themselves but poet-lovers,... more...

A BOOK FOR KIDS THE BAKER   I'd like to be a baker, and come when morning breaks,Calling out, "Beeay-ko!" (that's the sound he makes)--Riding in a rattle-cart that jogs and jolts and shakes,Selling all the sweetest things a baker ever bakes;Currant-buns and brandy-snaps, pastry all in flakes;But I wouldn't be a baker if . . . I couldn't eat the cakes.Would you?THE DAWN DANCEWhat do you think I saw to-day when I arose at dawn?Blue Wrens... more...

PREFACE Utterances of poets regarding their character and mission have perhaps received less attention than they deserve. The tacit assumption of the majority of critics seems to be that the poet, like the criminal, is the last man who should pass judgment upon his own case. Yet it is by no means certain that this view is correct. Introspective analysis on the part of the poet might reasonably be expected to be as productive of æsthetic... more...

TO read the old Nursery Rhymes brings back queer lost memories of a man's own childhood. One seems to see the loose floppy picture-books of long ago, with their boldly coloured pictures. The books were tattered and worn, and my first library consisted of a wooden box full of these volumes. And I can remember being imprisoned for some crime in the closet where the box was, and how my gaolers found me, happy and impenitent, sitting on the box, with... more...


THE SHADOW SHOW   Trains with wheels and clouds of smoke,Funny crowds of dodging folk,Trams that run along with sparks,Sofa games and pillow larks,Grubs and ponies, worms and tigers,Sparrows on the tree,Oh!What a lot of lots of thingsFor little boys to see! Aeroplanes and paper darts,Woodmen driving broken carts,Minahs on the chimney tops,Swallows dodging near the shops,Barking pups that make the postmanFall down off his bike;Oh!What a... more...

GIRLS AND BOYS [Listen] [PDF] [MusicXML]   1. Girls and boys come out to play,The moon doth shine as bright as day;Leave your supper, and leave your sleep;Come to your playfellows in the street;2. Come with a whoop, and come with a call.Come with a good will or not at all.Up the ladder and down the wall,A penny loaf will serve you all. THE MVLBERRY BVSH [Listen] [PDF] [MusicXML]   Here we go round the mulberry... more...

Simple Simon met a pieman, Going to the fair. Says Simple Simon to the pieman “Let me taste your ware.” Says the pieman to Simple Simon, “Show me first your penny.” Says Simple Simon to the pieman, “Indeed, I have not any.” Simon Looking for Plums. Simple Simon went to look If plums grew on a thistle, He pricked his fingers very much, Which made poor Simon whistle. Simon Fishing. Simple... more...

UP AND DOWN   Down the Hill of Ludgate,     Up the Hill of Fleet,  To and fro and East and West     With people flows the street;  Even the King of England     On Temple Bar must beat  For leave to ride to Ludgate     Down the Hill of Fleet. MRS. EARTH   Mrs. Earth makes silver... more...

Hark! hark! the dogs bark,The beggars are coming to town;Some in rags and some in tags,And some in a silken gown.Some gave them white bread,And some gave them brown,And some gave them a good horse-whip,And sent them out of the town.     Little Jack Horner sat in the corner,Eating a Christmas pie;He put in his thumb, and pulled out a plum,And said, oh! what a good boy am I.     There was an old womanLived... more...