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Showing: 31-40 results of 897

ARGUMENT. Apollo, enraged at the insult offered to his priest, Chryses, sends a pestilence upon the Greeks. A council is called, and Agamemnon, being compelled to restore the daughter of Chryses, whom he had taken from him, in revenge deprives Achilles of Hippodameia. Achilles resigns her, but refuses to aid the Greeks in battle, and at his request, his mother, Thetis, petitions Jove to honour her offended son at the expense of the Greeks.... more...

One of R. Caldecott's Picture Books       FREDERICK WARNE & CO. Ltd. 1878       THE HOUSE THAT JACK BUILT       This is the House that Jack built.         This is the Malt,That lay in the House that Jack built.   This is the Rat,That ate the Malt,That lay in the House that Jack built.  ... more...

PREFACE. The numerous collections of American verse share, I think, one fault in common: they include too much. Whether this has been a bid for popularity, a concession to Philistia, I cannot say; but the fact remains that all anthologies of American poetry are, so far as I know, more or less uncritical. The aim of the present book is different. In no case has a poem been included because it is widely known. The purpose of this compilation is... more...

A Frog he would a-wooing go, Whether his mother would let him or no. Off he set with his opera-hat. On the road he met with a Rat.     "Pray, Mr. Rat, will you go with me, Kind Mrs. Mousey for to see?" They soon arrived at Mousey's hall. They gave a loud tap, and they gave a loud call.     "Pray, Mrs. Mouse, are you within?" "Yes, kind sirs, and sitting to spin." "Pray,... more...

ADDRESS TO THE FLAG [After the Battle of Gettysburg.] Float in the winds of heaven, O tattered Flag!Emblem of hope to all the misruled world:Thy field of golden stars is rent and red—Dyed in the blood of brothers madly spilledBy brother-hands upon the mother-soil.O fatal Upas of the savage Nile,Transplanted hither—rooted—multiplied—Watered with bitter tears and sending forthThy venom-vapors till the land is mad,Thy day... more...


I think I should scarcely trouble the reader with a special appeal in behalf of this book, if it had not specially appealed to me for reasons apart from the author's race, origin, and condition. The world is too old now, and I find myself too much of its mood, to care for the work of a poet because he is black, because his father and mother were slaves, because he was, before and after he began to write poems, an elevator-boy. These facts would... more...

THE HOMES OF ENGLAND The stately homes of England!How beautiful they stand,Amidst their tall ancestral trees,O'er all the pleasant land!The deer across their greensward boundThrough shade and sunny gleam;And the swan glides by them with the soundOf some rejoicing stream. The merry homes of England!Around their hearths by night,What gladsome looks of household loveMeet in the ruddy light!The blessed homes of England!How softly on their... more...

INTRODUCTION Every now and then in our reading we come suddenly face to face with first things,—the very elemental sources beyond which no man may go. There is a distinct satisfaction in dealing with such beginnings, and, when they are those of literature, the sense of freshness is nothing short of inspiring. To share the same lofty outlook, to breathe the same high air with those who first sensed a whole era of creative thoughts, is the... more...

ON THE LIFE AND POETIC GENIUS OF EDWARD YOUNG. Between the period of George Herbert, and that of Edward Young, some singular changes had taken place in British poetry as well as in British manners, politics, and religion. There had passed over the land the thunderstorm of the Puritanic Revolt, which had first clouded and then cleared, for a season, the intellectual and moral horizon. The effect of this on poetry was, for such fugitive though... more...

THE BURIAL OF THE LINNET. Found in the garden—dead in his beauty.Ah! that a linnet should die in the spring!Bury him, comrades, in pitiful duty,Muffle the dinner-bell, solemnly ring. Bury him kindly—up in the corner;Bird, beast, and gold-fish are sepulchred there;Bid the black kitten march as chief mourner,Waving her tail like a plume in the air. Bury him nobly—next to the donkey;Fetch the old banner, and wave it about:Bury... more...