Poetry Books

SeeMeBe(kyndeAgayneMy payneReteyne(in myndeMy swete bloodeOn the roodeDyde the good(my broderMy face ryght redMyn armes spredMy woundes bled(thynke none oderBeholde thou my sydeWounded so ryght wydeBledynge sore that tyde(all for thyn owne sakeThus for the I smertedWhy arte þharde hertedBe by me conuerted(& thy swerynge aslakeTere me nowe no moreMy woundes are soreLeue swerynge therfore(and come to... more...

"ALL'S WELL"IThe illimitable leaping of the sea,The mouthing of his madness to the moon,The seething of his endless sorcery,His prophecy no power can attune,Swept over me as, on the sounding prowOf a great ship that steered into the stars,I stood and felt the awe upon my browOf death and destiny and all that mars.IIThe wind that blew from Cassiopeia castWanly upon my ear a rune that... more...

THE FOX JUMPS OVER THE PARSON’S GATE   The Huntsman blows his horn in the morn, When folks goes hunting, oh! When folks goes hunting, oh! When folks goes hunting, oh! The Huntsman blows his horn in the morn, When folks goes hunting, oh!         The Fox jumps over the Parson’s gate, And the Hounds all after him go, And the Hounds all after him go, And the Hounds all after him go.   But all my... more...

“Let us buy,”Said Sally Fry,“Something nice,”Said Betsy Price,“What shall it be,”Said Kitty Lee,“A nice plum cake,”Said Lucy Wake. Which will you have, the doll, or Noah’s Ark? said mother to Mary one day. The doll, if you please, I think I will take, for then I can prettily play. One day John said, as he made his bow,“Mamma, are you at leisure now?Tell me, for much I wish to... more...

INTRODUCTION We remember Samuel Wesley (1662-1735), if at all, as the father of a great religious leader. In his own time he was known to many as a poet and a writer of controversial prose. His poetic career began in 1685 with the publication of Maggots, a collection of juvenile verses on trivial subjects, the preface to which, a frothy concoction, apologizes to the reader because the book is neither... more...

Barter   Life has loveliness to sell,   All beautiful and splendid things,  Blue waves whitened on a cliff,   Soaring fire that sways and sings,  And children's faces looking up  Holding wonder like a cup.   Life has loveliness to sell,   Music like a curve of gold,  Scent of pine trees in the rain,   Eyes that love you, arms that hold,  And for your spirit's still... more...

SONGS OF TWO I   Last night I dreamed this dream: That I was dead;      And as I slept, forgot of man and God,      That other dreamless sleep of rest,      I heard a footstep on the sod,      As of one passing overhead,—  And lo, thou, Dear, didst touch me on the breast,      Saying: "What shall I write against thy name          That men should... more...

LET ME SING OF WHAT I KNOWA wild west Coast, a little Town,Where little Folk go up and down,Tides flow and winds blow:Night and Tempest and the Sea,Human Will and Human Fate:What is little, what is great?Howsoe'er the answer be,Let me sing of what I know.Adieu to Belashanny!where I was bred and born;Go where I may, I'll think of you,as sure as night and morn.The kindly spot, the friendly... more...

Romance IWhen I go forth to greet the glad-faced Spring,Just at the time of opening apple-buds,When brooks are laughing, winds are whispering,On babbling hillsides or in warbling woods,There is an unseen presence that eludes:—Perhaps a Dryad, in whose tresses clingThe loamy odors of old solitudes,Who, from her beechen doorway, calls; and leadsMy soul to follow; now with dimpling wordsOf leaves; and... more...

Punky Dunk, very sly, with a wink of his eyeStrolled lazily all through the house;To the cellar he went and the morning he spentOn a hunt for a fat little mouse."Over there by the coal," he said, "Mouse has his hole,So I'll sit there beside it and wait.There's a trap with some cheese just as nice as you please,And Mouse soon will come out for that bait."Punky sat by the trap,... more...