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PREFACE. Several years ago, the maker of this version translated into French one of the early works of H. W. Longfellow. This circumstance was not forgotten by the American poet who kindly consented to listen to this new attempt at rendering into English the "CHANSON DE ROLAND." To his encouragement is due the present publication. The writer will ever proudly treasure up the remembrance of his... more...

This work is a continuation of the "Orlando Innamorato" of Matteo Maria Boiardo, which was left unfinished upon the author's death in 1494. It begins more or less at the point where Boiardo left it. This is a brief synopsis of Boiardo's work, omitting most of the numerous digressions and incidental episodes associated with these events: To the court of King Charlemagne comes Angelica... more...

by: G. Boare
e was a rat, and she was a rat,And down in one hole they did dwell,And both were as black as a witch’s cat,And they loved one another well.He had a tail, and she had a tail,Both long and curling and fine,And each said “Yours is the finest tailIn the world,—excepting mine!” e smelt the cheese, and she smelt the cheese,And they both pronounced it good,And both remarked it would greatly addTo the... more...

ENGLAND AND SERBIA. Delivered for the first time in the Chapter House of Canterbury Cathedral. Chairman: the Lord Archbishop of Canterbury. THE SIGN OF THE CHURCH OF ENGLAND. YOUR GRACE, LADIES AND GENTLEMEN, To come to Canterbury, to visit this Sion of the Church of England, that has been my dream since my fourteenth year, when I for the first time was told of what a spiritual work and of what an... more...

CELIA Cherry, cherry, glowing on the hearth, bright red cherry…. When you try to pick up cherry Celia's shriek sticks in you like a pin. : : When God throws hailstones you cuddle in Celia's shawl and press your feet on her belly high up like a stool. When Celia makes umbrella of her hand. Rain falls through big pink spokes of her fingers. When wind blows Celia's gown up off her legs... more...

THE GHETTO I   Cool, inaccessible air  Is floating in velvety blackness shot with steel-blue lights,  But no breath stirs the heat  Leaning its ponderous bulk upon the Ghetto  And most on Hester street…   The heat…  Nosing in the body's overflow,  Like a beast pressing its great steaming belly close,  Covering all avenues of air…   The heat in Hester street,  Heaped... more...

by: Unknown
PART FIRST. Oene, of all the chilly Arctics, queen,Ascended to her everlasting throneBuilt on the steadfast centre of the world,And waited for the middle hour of night,Now swiftly coming, to convene her court.Set in an ocean of perpetual calmWas the fair island honoured by her reign;Slowly around her rolled the Frigid Zone,Dim in the mystic moonlight far away,—A silvery ring, circling her nearer... more...

by: Aristotle
I propose to treat of Poetry in itself and of its various kinds, noting the essential quality of each; to inquire into the structure of the plot as requisite to a good poem; into the number and nature of the parts of which a poem is composed; and similarly into whatever else falls within the same inquiry. Following, then, the order of nature, let us begin with the principles which come first. Epic... more...

ENOCH ARDEN.   Long lines of cliff breaking have left a chasm;  And in the chasm are foam and yellow sands;  Beyond, red roofs about a narrow wharf  In cluster; then a moulder'd church; and higher  A long street climbs to one tall-tower'd mill;  And high in heaven behind it a gray down  With Danish barrows; and a hazelwood,  By autumn nutters haunted, flourishes  Green in a... more...

HERE BEGIN POEMS BY THE WAY.WRITTEN BY WILLIAM MORRIS.AND FIRST IS THE POEM CALLEDFROM THE UPLAND TO THE SEA. Shall we wake one morn of spring,Glad at heart of everything,Yet pensive with the thought of eve?Then the white house shall we leave,Pass the wind-flowers and the bays,Through the garth, and go our ways,Wandering down among the meadsTill our very joyance needsRest at last; till we shall comeTo... more...