BARRACK-ROOM BALLADS AND OTHER VERSES 1889-1891 TO WOLCOTT BALESTIER Beyond the path of the outmost sun through utter darkness hurled —Further than ever comet flared or vagrant star-dust swirled —Live such as fought and sailed and ruled and loved and made our world.They are purged of pride because they died, they know the worth of their bays,They sit at wine with the Maidens Nine and the Gods of the Elder Days,It is their will to... more...

PRELUDE.   Poems are heavenly things,  And only souls with wings  May reach them where they grow,  May pluck and bear below,  Feeding the nations thus  With food all glorious.   Verses are not of these;  They bloom on earthly trees,  Poised on a low-hung stem,  And those may gather them  Who cannot fly to where  The heavenly... more...

VENUS AND ADONIS EVEN as the sun with purple-colour'd faceHad ta'en his last leave of the weeping morn,Rose-cheek'd Adonis tried him to the chase;Hunting he lov'd, but love he laugh'd to scorn; 4Sick-thoughted Venus makes amain unto him,And like a bold-fac'd suitor 'gins to woo him.'Thrice fairer than myself,' thus she began,'The field's chief flower, sweet above compare, 8Stain to all nymphs, more lovely than a man,More white and red than... more...

Cultural Misappropriation is that what I hear you cry, citizen? If a delph-glazed moon with its O so delicate pattern pans over Holland, flat as a tack, it also comes by way of the Antarctic circle right to your doorstep in equal measure. If the sun clamps its golden torque on mosque or synagogue, pa, cathedral or sacred site, does this endorse any one people over another? Is it your wish to head off the cultural bandits at the historical... 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...

THE SKY I saw a shadow on the ground And heard a bluejay going by; A shadow went across the ground, And I looked up and saw the sky. It hung up on the poplar tree, But while I looked it did not stay; It gave a tiny sort of jerk And moved a little bit away. And farther on and farther on It moved and never seemed to stop. I think it must be tied with chains And something pulls it from the top. It never has come down again,... more...

ULF VAN YERN It was youthful Ulf Van Yern   Goes before the King to stand:“To avenge my father’s death   Lend me warriors of thy band.” “Of my kemps I’ll lend thee them   Who to follow thee consent;Ask’st thou Vidrik Verlandson   Thou wilt further thy intent. “I will lend thee of my men,   Thou shalt have the very flower;Vidrik, and stark... more...

INTRODUCTION  A mid the many celebrations last Christmas Eve, in various places by different persons, there was one, in New York City, not like any other anywhere. A company of men, women, and children went together just after the evening service in their church, and, standing around the tomb of the author of "A Visit from St. Nicholas," recited together the words of the poem which we all know so well and love so dearly. Dr. Clement C.... more...

INTRODUCTION. The spirit of reform which was developed during the early part of the sixteenth century brought about a desire on the part of young men of means to travel on the continent of Europe. This was for the purpose of making themselves acquainted with the politics, social life, literature, art, science, and commerce of the various nations of the same, especially of France, Spain, and Italy. These young Englishmen on their return... more...

BOOK I. Incipit Liber Primus The double sorwe of Troilus to tellen, 1That was the king Priamus sone of Troye,In lovinge, how his aventures fellenFro wo to wele, and after out of Ioye,My purpos is, er that I parte fro ye. 5Thesiphone, thou help me for tendyteThise woful vers, that wepen as I wryte!To thee clepe I, thou goddesse of torment,Thou cruel Furie, sorwing ever in peyne;Help me, that am the sorwful instrument 10That helpeth lovers, as I... more...