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diff --git a/.gitattributes b/.gitattributes new file mode 100644 index 0000000..d7b82bc --- /dev/null +++ b/.gitattributes @@ -0,0 +1,4 @@ +*.txt text eol=lf +*.htm text eol=lf +*.html text eol=lf +*.md text eol=lf diff --git a/LICENSE.txt b/LICENSE.txt new file mode 100644 index 0000000..6312041 --- /dev/null +++ b/LICENSE.txt @@ -0,0 +1,11 @@ +This eBook, including all associated images, markup, improvements, +metadata, and any other content or labor, has been confirmed to be +in the PUBLIC DOMAIN IN THE UNITED STATES. + +Procedures for determining public domain status are described in +the "Copyright How-To" at https://www.gutenberg.org. + +No investigation has been made concerning possible copyrights in +jurisdictions other than the United States. Anyone seeking to utilize +this eBook outside of the United States should confirm copyright +status under the laws that apply to them. diff --git a/README.md b/README.md new file mode 100644 index 0000000..829e536 --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #50994 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/50994) diff --git a/old/50994-0.txt b/old/50994-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index bb53f5d..0000000 --- a/old/50994-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,8452 +0,0 @@ -Project Gutenberg's The Cambridge Book of Poetry for Children, by Various - -This eBook is for the use of anyone anywhere in the United States and most -other parts of the world at no cost and with almost no restrictions -whatsoever. You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Cambridge Book of Poetry for Children - Parts 1 and 2 - -Author: Various - -Editor: Kenneth Grahame - -Release Date: January 22, 2016 [EBook #50994] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAMBRIDGE BOOK POETRY CHILDREN *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - - - - - - - - - -The Cambridge Book of Poetry for Children - -PART I - - - - -CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS - -C. F. CLAY, MANAGER - - London: FETTER LANE, E.C. - Edinburgh: 100 PRINCES STREET - -[Illustration] - - Bombay, Calcutta and Madras: MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD. - Toronto: J. M. DENT AND SONS, LTD. - Tokyo: THE MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA - - Copyrighted in the United States of America by - G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS, - 2, 4 AND 6, WEST 45TH STREET, NEW YORK CITY - - _All rights reserved_ - - - - -The Cambridge Book of Poetry for Children - - Edited by - KENNETH GRAHAME - - Author of _The Golden Age_, _Dream Days_, _The Wind - in the Willows_, _etc._ - -PART I - - Cambridge: - at the University Press - 1916 - - - - -NOTE - - -The Editor is indebted to the following authors and publishers for -leave to reprint copyright poems: Mr W. Graham Robertson and Mr Norman -Gale; Messrs Longmans Green & Co. for a poem by Walter Ramal and for a -poem from Stevenson’s _Child’s Garden of Verse_, Messrs Chatto & Windus -for an extract from Swinburne’s _Songs Before Sunrise_ and for a poem -from Walter Thornbury’s _Ballads and Songs_, Messrs G. Routledge & Sons -for a poem by Joaquin Miller, Mr Elliot Stock for an extract from a -play by H. N. Maugham; and Mr John Lane for the Rands, Eugene Field, -and Graham Robertson poems, and for two extracts from John Davidson’s -_Fleet Street Eclogues_. - - - - -PREFACE - - -In compiling a selection of Poetry for Children, a conscientious Editor -is bound to find himself confronted with limitations so numerous as -to be almost disheartening. For he has to remember that his task is, -not to provide simple examples of the whole range of English poetry, -but to set up a wicket-gate giving attractive admission to that wide -domain, with its woodland glades, its pasture and arable, its walled -and scented gardens here and there, and so to its sunlit, and sometimes -misty, mountain-tops--all to be more fully explored later by those who -are tempted on by the first glimpse. And always he must be proclaiming -to the small tourists that there is joy, light and fresh air in that -delectable country. - -Briefly, I think that blank verse generally, and the drama as a -whole, may very well be left for readers of a riper age. Indeed, I -believe that those who can ignore the plays of Shakespeare and his -fellow-Elizabethans till they are sixteen will be no losers in the -long run. The bulk, too, of seventeenth and eighteenth century poetry, -bending under its burden of classical form and crowded classical -allusion, requires a completed education and a wide range of reading -for its proper appreciation. - -Much else also is barred. There are the questions of subject, of -archaic language and thought, and of occasional expression, which will -occur to everyone. Then there is dialect, and here one has to remember -that these poems are intended for use at the very time that a child -is painfully acquiring a normal--often quite arbitrary--orthography. -Is it fair to that child to hammer into him--perhaps literally--that -porridge is spelt porridge, and next minute to present it to him, in an -official ‘Reader,’ under the guise of parritch? I think not; and I have -accordingly kept as far as possible to the normal, though at some loss -of material. - -In the output of those writers who have deliberately written for -children, it is surprising how largely the subject of _death_ is found -to bulk. Dead fathers and mothers, dead brothers and sisters, dead -uncles and aunts, dead puppies and kittens, dead birds, dead flowers, -dead dolls--a compiler of Obituary Verse for the delight of children -could make a fine fat volume with little difficulty. I have turned off -this mournful tap of tears as far as possible, preferring that children -should read of the joy of life, rather than revel in sentimental -thrills of imagined bereavement. - -There exists, moreover, any quantity of verse for children, which is -merely verse and nothing more. It lacks the vital spark of heavenly -flame, and is useless to a selector of Poetry. And then there is the -whole corpus of verse--most of it of the present day--which is written -_about_ children, and this has even more carefully to be avoided. When -the time comes that we send our parents to school, it will prove very -useful to the compilers of their primers. - -All these restrictions have necessarily led to two results. First, -that this collection is chiefly lyrical--and that, after all, is no -bad thing. Lyric verse may not be representative of the whole range of -English poetry, but as an introduction to it, as a Wicket-gate, there -is no better portal. The second result is, that it is but a small sheaf -that these gleanings amount to; but for those children who frankly do -not care for poetry it will be more than enough; and for those who -love it and delight in it, no ‘selection’ could ever be sufficiently -satisfying. - - KENNETH GRAHAME. - _October 1915._ - - - - -CONTENTS - - PAGE - - PREFACE v - - _For the Very Smallest Ones_ - - RHYMES AND JINGLES - - Merry are the Bells 1 - Safe in Bed 2 - Jenny Wren 2 - Curly Locks 3 - Pussy-Cat Mew 3 - Draw a Pail of Water 4 - I Saw a Ship a-sailing 4 - The Nut-Tree 5 - My Maid Mary 5 - The Wind and the Fisherman 6 - Blow, Wind, Blow 6 - All Busy 6 - Winter has Come 7 - Poor Robin 7 - I have a Little Sister 7 - In Marble Walls 8 - - FAMILIAR OBJECTS - - The Moon _Eliza Lee Follen_ 8 - The Star _A. & J. Taylor_ 9 - Kitty _Mrs E. Prentiss_ 10 - Kitty: How to Treat Her 11 - Kitty: what She thinks of Herself _W. B. Rands_ 12 - The Sea Shell _Amy Lowell_ 12 - - COUNTRY BOYS’ SONGS - - The Cuckoo 13 - The Bird-Scarer’s Song 13 - Cradle Song 13 - - Good Night! _A. & J. Taylor_ 14 - - _For Those a Little Older_ - - A BUNCH OF LENT LILIES - - Daffodils _W. Shakespeare_ 15 - To Daffodils _R. Herrick_ 15 - Daffodils _W. Wordsworth_ 16 - - SEASONS AND WEATHER - - The Months _Sara Coleridge_ 17 - The Wind in a Frolic _William Howitt_ 19 - The Four Sweet Months _R. Herrick_ 22 - Glad Day _W. G. Robertson_ 22 - Buttercups and Daisies _Mary Howitt_ 24 - The Merry Month of March _W. Wordsworth_ 24 - What the Birds Say _S. T. Coleridge_ 25 - Spring’s Procession _Sydney Dobell_ 26 - The Call of the Woods _W. Shakespeare_ 28 - A Prescription for a Spring - Morning _John Davidson_ 28 - The Country Faith _Norman Gale_ 29 - The Butterfly’s Ball _W. Roscoe_ 30 - - TASTES AND PREFERENCES - - A Wish _Samuel Rogers_ 33 - Wishing _W. Allingham_ 34 - Bunches of Grapes _Walter Ramal_ 35 - Contentment _Eugene Field_ 36 - - TOYS AND PLAY, IN-DOORS AND OUT - The Land of Story-Books _R. L. Stevenson_ 38 - Sand Castles _W. G. Robertson_ 39 - Ring o’ Roses ” 41 - - DREAM-LAND - - Wynken, Blynken, and Nod _Eugene Field_ 42 - The Drummer-Boy and the - Shepherdess _W. B. Rands_ 44 - The Land of Dreams _William Blake_ 45 - Sweet and Low _Lord Tennyson_ 45 - Cradle Song _Sir Walter Scott_ 46 - Mother and I _Eugene Field_ 47 - - FAIRY-LAND - - The Fairies _W. Allingham_ 48 - Shakespeare’s Fairies _W. Shakespeare_ 51 - The Lavender Beds _W. B. Rands_ 54 - Farewell to the Fairies _Richard Corbet_ 55 - Death of Oberon _G. W. Thornbury_ 57 - Kilmeny _James Hogg_ 58 - - TWO SONGS - - A Boy’s Song _James Hogg_ 62 - A Girl’s Song _Thomas Moore_ 63 - - FUR AND FEATHER - - Three Things to Remember _William Blake_ 65 - The Knight of Bethlehem _H. N. Maugham_ 65 - The Lamb _William Blake_ 65 - The Tiger ” 66 - I had a Dove _J. Keats_ 67 - Robin Redbreast _W. Allingham_ 68 - Black Bunny _W. B. Rands_ 69 - The Cow _A. & J. Taylor_ 71 - The Skylark _James Hogg_ 72 - - CHRISTMAS POEMS - - Christmas Eve _John Davidson_ 73 - A Christmas Carol _R. Herrick_ 75 - A Child’s Present ” 76 - The Peace-Giver _A. C. Swinburne_ 77 - - VARIOUS - - To a Singer _P. B. Shelley_ 78 - The Happy Piper _William Blake_ 80 - The Destruction of Sennacherib _Lord Byron_ 81 - Sheridan’s Ride _T. Buchanan Read_ 83 - Columbus _Joaquin Miller_ 86 - Horatius _Lord Macaulay_ 88 - - INDEX OF AUTHORS 113 - - INDEX OF FIRST LINES 115 - - - - -_For the Very Smallest Ones_ - -RHYMES AND JINGLES - -_We begin with some jingles and old rhymes; for rhymes and jingles must -not be despised. They have rhyme, rhythm, melody, and joy; and it is -well for beginners to know that these are all elements of poetry, so -that they will turn to it with pleasant expectation._ - - - - -MERRY ARE THE BELLS - - - Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring, - Merry was myself, and merry could I sing; - With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free, - And a merry sing-song, happy let us be! - - Waddle goes your gait, and hollow are your hose; - Noddle goes your pate, and purple is your nose; - Merry is your sing-song, happy, gay, and free; - With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be! - - Merry have we met, and merry have we been; - Merry let us part, and merry meet again; - With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free, - With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be! - - - - -SAFE IN BED - - - Matthew, Mark, Luke and John, - Bless the bed that I lie on! - Four corners to my bed, - Five angels there lie spread; - Two at my head, - Two at my feet, - One at my heart, my soul to keep. - - - - -JENNY WREN - - - Jenny Wren fell sick; - Upon a merry time, - In came Robin Redbreast, - And brought her sops of wine. - - Eat well of the sop, Jenny, - Drink well of the wine; - Thank you Robin kindly, - You shall be mine. - - Jenny she got well, - And stood upon her feet, - And told Robin plainly - She loved him not a bit. - - Robin, being angry, - Hopp’d on a twig, - Saying, Out upon you, - Fye upon you, - Bold-faced jig! - - - - -CURLY LOCKS - - - Curly locks! Curly locks! - Wilt thou be mine? - Thou shalt not wash dishes - Nor yet feed the swine. - But sit on a cushion - And sew a fine seam, - And feed upon strawberries - Sugar and cream. - - - - -PUSSY-CAT MEW - - - Pussy-cat Mew jumped over a coal, - And in her best petticoat burnt a great hole. - Pussy-cat Mew shall have no more milk - Till she has mended her gown of silk. - - - - -DRAW A PAIL OF WATER - - - Draw a pail of water - For my Lady’s daughter. - Father’s a King, - Mother’s a Queen, - My two little sisters are dressed in green, - Stamping marigolds and parsley. - - - - -I SAW A SHIP A-SAILING - - - I saw a ship a-sailing, - A-sailing on the sea; - And it was full of pretty things - For baby and for me. - - There were sweetmeats in the cabin, - And apples in the hold; - The sails were made of silk, - And the masts were made of gold. - - The four-and-twenty sailors - That stood between the decks, - Were four-and-twenty white mice, - With chains about their necks. - - The captain was a duck, - With a packet on his back; - And when the ship began to move, - The captain cried, “Quack, quack!” - - - - -THE NUT-TREE - - - I had a little nut-tree, - Nothing would it bear - But a silver nutmeg - And a golden pear; - The King of Spain’s daughter - She came to see me, - And all because of my little nut-tree. - I skipped over water, - I danced over sea, - And all the birds in the air couldn’t catch me. - - - - -MY MAID MARY - - - My maid Mary she minds the dairy, - While I go a-hoeing and a-mowing each morn; - Gaily run the reel and the little spinning-wheel, - Whilst I am singing and mowing my corn. - - - - -THE WIND AND THE FISHERMAN - - - When the wind is in the East, - ’Tis neither good for man or beast; - When the wind is in the North, - The skilful fisher goes not forth; - When the wind is in the South, - It blows the bait in the fish’s mouth; - When the wind is in the West, - Then ’tis at the very best. - - - - -BLOW, WIND, BLOW - - - Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go! - That the miller may grind his corn; - That the baker may take it and into rolls make it, - And send us some hot in the morn. - - - - -ALL BUSY - - - The cock’s on the house-top, - Blowing his horn; - The bull’s in the barn, - A-threshing of corn; - The maids in the meadows - Are making the hay, - The ducks in the river - Are swimming away. - - - - -WINTER HAS COME - - - Cold and raw - The north wind doth blow - Bleak in the morning early; - All the hills are covered with snow, - And winter’s now come fairly. - - - - -POOR ROBIN - - - The north wind doth blow, - And we shall have snow, - And what will poor Robin do then, poor thing? - He’ll sit in the barn, - And keep himself warm, - And hide his head under his wing, poor thing! - - - - -I HAVE A LITTLE SISTER - - - I have a little sister, they call her Peep, Peep, - She wades the waters, deep, deep, deep; - She climbs the mountains, high, high, high; - Poor little creature, she has but one eye. - (A star.) - - - - -IN MARBLE WALLS - - - In marble walls as white as milk, - Lined with a skin as soft as silk, - Within a fountain crystal-clear, - A golden apple doth appear. - No doors there are to this stronghold, - Yet thieves break in and steal the gold. - (An egg.) - - - - -FAMILIAR OBJECTS - - -_Here are some poems about things with which we are all quite familiar: -the Moon and the Stars that we see through our bedroom window; Pussy -purring on the hearthrug, the spotted shell on the mantelpiece._ - - - - -THE MOON - - - O, look at the moon! - She is shining up there; - O mother, she looks - Like a lamp in the air. - - Last week she was smaller, - And shaped like a bow; - But now she’s grown bigger, - And round as an O. - - Pretty moon, pretty moon, - How you shine on the door, - And make it all bright - On my nursery floor! - - You shine on my playthings, - And show me their place, - And I love to look up - At your pretty bright face. - - And there is a star - Close by you, and maybe - That small twinkling star - Is your little baby. - - ELIZA LEE FOLLEN. - - - - -THE STAR - - - Twinkle, twinkle, little star, - How I wonder what you are! - Up above the world so high, - Like a diamond in the sky. - - When the blazing sun is gone, - When he nothing shines upon, - Then you show your little light, - Twinkle, twinkle, all the night. - - Then the traveller in the dark - Thanks you for your tiny spark; - He could not see which way to go, - If you did not twinkle so. - - In the dark blue sky you keep, - And often through my curtains peep, - For you never shut your eye - Till the sun is in the sky. - - As your bright and tiny spark - Lights the traveller in the dark, - Though I know not what you are, - Twinkle, twinkle, little star. - - ANN AND JANE TAYLOR. - - - - -KITTY - - - Once there was a little kitty - Whiter than snow; - In a barn she used to frolic, - Long time ago. - - In the barn a little mousie - Ran to and fro; - For she heard the kitty coming, - Long time ago. - - Two eyes had little kitty, - Black as a sloe; - And they spied the little mousie, - Long time ago. - - Four paws had little kitty, - Paws soft as dough, - And they caught the little mousie, - Long time ago. - - Nine teeth had little kitty, - All in a row; - And they bit the little mousie, - Long time ago. - - When the teeth bit little mousie, - Little mouse cried “Oh!” - But she got away from kitty, - Long time ago. - - MRS E. PRENTISS. - - - - -KITTY: HOW TO TREAT HER - - - I like little Pussy, her coat is so warm, - And if I don’t hurt her she’ll do me no harm; - So I’ll not pull her tail, nor drive her away, - But Pussy and I very gently will play. - - - - -KITTY: WHAT SHE THINKS OF HERSELF - - - I am the Cat of Cats. I am - The everlasting cat! - Cunning, and old, and sleek as jam, - The everlasting cat! - I hunt the vermin in the night-- - The everlasting cat! - For I see best without the light-- - The everlasting cat! - - W. B. RANDS. - - - - -THE SEA SHELL - - - Sea Shell, Sea Shell, - Sing me a song, O please! - A song of ships and sailor-men, - Of parrots and tropical trees; - Of islands lost in the Spanish Main - Which no man ever may see again, - Of fishes and corals under the waves, - And sea-horses stabled in great green caves-- - Sea Shell, Sea Shell, - Sing me a song, O please! - - AMY LOWELL. - - - - -COUNTRY BOYS’ SONGS - - - - -THE CUCKOO - - - The cuckoo’s a bonny bird, - She sings as she flies; - She brings us good tidings, - And tells us no lies. - She sucks little birds’ eggs, - To make her voice clear, - And never cries Cuckoo - Till the spring of the year. - - - - -THE BIRD-SCARER’S SONG - - - We’ve ploughed our land, we’ve sown our seed, - We’ve made all neat and gay; - Then take a bit and leave a bit, - Away, birds, away! - - - - -CRADLE SONG - - - Sleep, baby, sleep, - Our cottage vale is deep; - The little lamb is on the green, - With woolly fleece so soft and clean, - Sleep, baby, sleep! - - Sleep, baby, sleep, - Down where the woodbines creep; - Be always like the lamb so mild, - A kind and sweet and gentle child, - Sleep, baby, sleep! - - - - -GOOD NIGHT! - - - Little baby, lay your head - On your pretty cradle-bed; - Shut your eye-peeps, now the day - And the light are gone away; - All the clothes are tucked in tight; - Little baby dear, good night. - - Yes, my darling, well I know - How the bitter wind doth blow; - And the winter’s snow and rain - Patter on the window-pane: - But they cannot come in here, - To my little baby dear. - - For the window shutteth fast, - Till the stormy night is past; - And the curtains warm are spread - Round about her cradle-bed: - So till morning shineth bright - Little baby dear, good night! - - ANN AND JANE TAYLOR. - - - - -_For Those a Little Older_ - -A BUNCH OF LENT LILIES - -_Here three Poets treat the same flower each from his own distinct and -delightful point of view. To the first it appeals as the flower of -courage, the brave early comer; to the second it is the early goer, -the flower of a too swift departure--though daffodils really bloom -for a fairly long time, as flowers go; the third is grateful for an -imperishable recollection._ - - - - -DAFFODILS - - - ... Daffodils - That come before the swallow dares, and take - The winds of March with beauty. - - SHAKESPEARE. - - - - -TO DAFFODILS - - - Fair daffodils, we weep to see - You haste away so soon; - As yet the early-rising sun - Has not attain’d his noon. - Stay, stay - Until the hasting day - Has run - But to the evensong; - And, having pray’d together, we - Will go with you along. - - We have short time to stay, as you, - We have as short a spring; - As quick a growth to meet decay, - As you, or anything. - We die - As your hours do, and dry - Away - Like to the summer’s rain; - Or as the pearls of morning’s dew, - Ne’er to be found again. - - ROBERT HERRICK. - - - - -DAFFODILS - - - I wander’d lonely as a cloud - That floats on high o’er vales and hills, - When all at once I saw a crowd, - A host, of golden daffodils; - Beside the lake, beneath the trees, - Fluttering and dancing in the breeze. - - Continuous as the stars that shine - And twinkle on the Milky Way, - They stretch’d in never-ending line - Along the margin of a bay: - Ten thousand saw I at a glance, - Tossing their heads in sprightly dance. - - The waves beside them danced, but they - Outdid the sparkling waves in glee: - A poet could not but be gay, - In such a jocund company: - I gazed--and gazed--but little thought - What wealth the show to me had brought: - - For oft, when on my couch I lie - In vacant or in pensive mood, - They flash upon that inward eye - Which is the bliss of solitude; - And then my heart with pleasure fills, - And dances with the daffodils. - - WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. - - - - -SEASONS AND WEATHER - - - - -THE MONTHS - - - January brings the snow, - Makes our feet and fingers glow. - - February brings the rain, - Thaws the frozen lake again. - - March brings breezes loud and shrill, - Stirs the dancing daffodil. - - April brings the primrose sweet, - Scatters daisies at our feet. - - May brings flocks of pretty lambs, - Skipping by their fleecy dams. - - June brings tulips, lilies, roses, - Fills the children’s hands with posies. - - Hot July brings cooling showers, - Apricots and gillyflowers. - - August brings the sheaves of corn, - Then the harvest home is borne. - - Warm September brings the fruit, - Sportsmen then begin to shoot. - - Fresh October brings the pheasant, - Then to gather nuts is pleasant. - - Dull November brings the blast, - Then the leaves are whirling fast. - - Chill December brings the sleet, - Blazing fire and Christmas treat. - - SARA COLERIDGE. - - - - -THE WIND IN A FROLIC - - - The wind one morning sprang up from sleep, - Saying, “Now for a frolic! now for a leap! - Now for a madcap galloping chase! - I’ll make a commotion in every place!” - So it swept with a bustle right through a great town, - Creaking the signs and scattering down - Shutters; and whisking, with merciless squalls, - Old women’s bonnets and gingerbread stalls. - There never was heard a much lustier shout, - As the apples and oranges trundled about; - And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes - For ever on watch, ran off each with a prize. - - Then away to the field it went blustering and humming, - And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming. - It plucked by their tails the grave matronly cows, - And tossed the colts’ manes all about their brows, - Till, offended at such a familiar salute, - They all turned their backs, and stood sullenly mute. - So on it went, capering and playing its pranks; - Whistling with reeds on the broad river’s banks; - Puffing the birds as they sat on the spray, - Or the traveller grave on the king’s highway. - It was not too nice[1] to hustle the bags - Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags; - ’Twas so bold that it feared not to play its joke - With the doctor’s wig, or the gentleman’s cloak. - Through the forest it roared, and cried gaily, “Now, - You sturdy old oaks, I’ll make you bow!” - And it made them bow without more ado, - Or it cracked their great branches through and through. - - Then it rushed like a monster on cottage and farm, - Striking their dwellers with sudden alarm; - And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm. - There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps, - To see if their poultry were free from mishaps; - The turkeys they gobbled, the geese screamed aloud, - And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd; - There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on - Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone. - But the wind had passed on, and had met in a lane - With a schoolboy, who panted and struggled in vain; - For it tossed him and twirled him, then passed, and he stood - With his hat in a pool and his shoe in the mud. - - But away went the wind in its holiday glee, - And now it was far on the billowy sea, - And the lordly ships felt its staggering blow, - And the little boats darted to and fro. - But lo! it was night, and it sank to rest, - On the sea-bird’s rock in the gleaming West, - Laughing to think, in its fearful fun, - How little of mischief it had done. - - WILLIAM HOWITT. - -[1] _nice_: particular. - - - - -THE FOUR SWEET MONTHS - - - First, April, she with mellow showers - Opens the way for early flowers; - Then after her comes smiling May, - In a more sweet and rich array; - Next enters June, and brings us more - Gems than those two that went before: - Then, lastly, July comes and she - More wealth brings in than all those three. - - ROBERT HERRICK. - - - - -GLAD DAY - - - Here’s another day, dear, - Here’s the sun again - Peeping in his pleasant way - Through the window pane. - Rise and let him in, dear, - Hail him “hip hurray!” - Now the fun will all begin. - Here’s another day! - - Down the coppice path, dear, - Through the dewy glade, - (When the Morning took her bath - What a splash she made!) - Up the wet wood-way, dear, - Under dripping green - Run to meet another day, - Brightest ever seen. - - Mushrooms in the field, dear, - Show their silver gleam. - What a dainty crop they yield - Firm as clouted cream, - Cool as balls of snow, dear, - Sweet and fresh and round! - Ere the early dew can go - We must clear the ground. - - Such a lot to do, dear, - Such a lot to see! - How we ever can get through - Fairly puzzles me. - Hurry up and out, dear, - Then--away! away! - In and out and round about, - Here’s another day! - - W. GRAHAM ROBERTSON. - - - - -BUTTERCUPS AND DAISIES - - - Buttercups and daisies-- - O the pretty flowers! - Coming ere the spring-time, - To tell of sunny hours. - When the trees are leafless; - When the fields are bare; - Buttercups and daisies - Spring up here and there. - - Welcome, yellow buttercups! - Welcome, daisies white! - Ye are in my spirit - Vision’d, a delight! - Coming ere the spring-time, - Of sunny hours to tell-- - Speaking to our hearts of Him - Who doeth all things well. - - MARY HOWITT. - - - - -THE MERRY MONTH OF MARCH - - - The cock is crowing, - The stream is flowing, - The small birds twitter, - The lake doth glitter, - The green field sleeps in the sun; - The oldest and youngest - Are at work with the strongest; - The cattle are grazing, - Their heads never raising; - There are forty feeding like one! - - Like an army defeated - The snow hath retreated, - And now doth fare ill - On the top of the bare hill; - The Plough-boy is whooping anon, anon. - There’s joy in the mountains; - There’s life in the fountains; - Small clouds are sailing, - Blue sky prevailing; - The rain is over and gone! - - WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. - - - - -WHAT THE BIRDS SAY - - - Do you know what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove, - The linnet and thrush say “I love and I love!” - In the winter they’re silent--the wind is so strong; - What it says I don’t know, but it sings a loud song. - But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather, - And singing, and loving, all come back together. - But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love, - The green fields below him, the blue sky above, - That he sings, and he sings, and for ever sings he-- - “I love my love, and my love loves me!” - - S. T. COLERIDGE. - - - - -SPRING’S PROCESSION - - - First came the primrose, - On the bank high, - Like a maiden looking forth - From the window of a tower - When the battle rolls below, - So look’d she, - And saw the storms go by. - - Then came the wind-flower - In the valley left behind, - As a wounded maiden, pale - With purple streaks of woe, - When the battle has roll’d by - Wanders to and fro, - So tottered she, - Dishevell’d in the wind. - - Then came the daisies, - On the first of May, - Like a banner’d show’s advance - While the crowd runs by the way, - With ten thousand flowers about them - they came trooping through the fields. - As a happy people come, - So came they, - As a happy people come - When the war has roll’d away, - With dance and tabor, pipe and drum, - And all make holiday. - - Then came the cowslip, - Like a dancer in the fair, - She spread her little mat of green, - And on it danced she. - With a fillet bound about her brow, - A fillet round her happy brow, - A golden fillet round her brow, - And rubies in her hair. - - SYDNEY DOBELL. - - - - -THE CALL OF THE WOODS - - - Under the greenwood tree, - Who loves to lie with me, - And tune his merry note - Unto the sweet bird’s throat, - Come hither, come hither, come hither! - Here shall he see - No enemy - But winter and rough weather. - - Who doth ambition shun, - And loves to live in the sun, - Seeking the food he eats, - And pleas’d with what he gets, - Come hither, come hither, come hither! - Here shall he see - No enemy - But winter and rough weather. - - SHAKESPEARE. - - - - -A PRESCRIPTION FOR A SPRING MORNING - - - At early dawn through London you must go - Until you come where long black hedgerows grow, - With pink buds pearl’d, with here and there a tree, - And gates and stiles; and watch good country folk; - And scent the spicy smoke - Of wither’d weeds that burn where gardens be; - And in a ditch perhaps a primrose see. - The rooks shall stalk the plough, larks mount the skies, - Blackbirds and speckled thrushes sing aloud, - Hid in the warm white cloud - Mantling the thorn, and far away shall rise - The milky low of cows and farm-yard cries. - - From windy heavens the climbing sun shall shine, - And February greet you like a maid - In russet cloak array’d; - And you shall take her for your mistress fine, - And pluck a crocus for her valentine. - - JOHN DAVIDSON. - - - - -THE COUNTRY FAITH - - - Here in the country’s heart - Where the grass is green, - Life is the same sweet life - As it e’er hath been - - Trust in a God still lives, - And the bell at morn - Floats with a thought of God - O’er the rising corn. - - God comes down in the rain, - And the crop grows tall-- - This is the country faith, - And the best of all. - - NORMAN GALE. - - - - -THE BUTTERFLY’S BALL - - - “Come, take up your hats, and away let us haste - To the Butterfly’s Ball and the Grasshopper’s Feast; - The Trumpeter, Gadfly, has summoned the crew, - And the revels are now only waiting for you.” - So said little Robert, and pacing along, - His merry Companions came forth in a throng, - And on the smooth Grass by the side of a Wood, - Beneath a broad oak that for ages had stood, - Saw the Children of Earth and the Tenants of Air - For an Evening’s Amusement together repair. - - And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black, - Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his back. - And there was the Gnat and the Dragon-fly too, - With all their Relations, green, orange and blue. - And there came the Moth, with his plumage of down, - And the Hornet in jacket of yellow and brown; - Who with him the Wasp, his companion, did bring, - But they promised that evening to lay by their sting. - And the sly little Dormouse crept out of his hole, - And brought to the feast his blind Brother, the Mole, - And the Snail, with his horns peeping out of his shell, - Came from a great distance, the length of an ell. - - A Mushroom their Table, and on it was laid - A water-dock leaf, which a table-cloth made. - The Viands were various, to each of their taste, - And the Bee brought her honey to crown the Repast. - Then close on his haunches, so solemn and wise, - The Frog from a corner look’d up to the skies; - And the Squirrel, well pleased such diversions to see, - Mounted high overhead and look’d down from a tree. - - Then out came the Spider, with finger so fine, - To show his dexterity on the tight-line. - From one branch to another his cobwebs he slung, - Then quick as an arrow he darted along. - But just in the middle--oh! shocking to tell, - From his rope, in an instant, poor Harlequin fell. - Yet he touched not the ground, but with talons outspread, - Hung suspended in air, at the end of a thread. - - Then the Grasshopper came, with a jerk and a spring, - Very long was his leg, though but short was his Wing; - He took but three leaps, and was soon out of sight, - Then chirp’d his own praises the rest of the night. - - With step so majestic the Snail did advance, - And promised the Gazers a Minuet to dance; - But they all laughed so loud that he pulled in his head, - And went in his own little chamber to bed. - Then as Evening gave way to the shadows of Night, - Their Watchman, the Glowworm, came out with a light. - - “Then home let us hasten, while yet we can see, - For no Watchman is waiting for you and for me.” - So said little Robert, and pacing along, - His merry Companions return’d in a throng. - - WILLIAM ROSCOE. - - - - -TASTES AND PREFERENCES - - - - -A WISH - - - Mine be a cot beside the hill; - A bee-hive’s hum shall soothe my ear; - A willowy brook, that turns a mill, - With many a fall shall linger near. - - The swallow oft beneath my thatch - Shall twitter from her clay-built nest; - Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch - And share my meal, a welcome guest. - - Around my ivied porch shall spring - Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew; - And Lucy at her wheel shall sing - In russet gown and apron blue. - - The village church among the trees, - Where first our marriage vows were given, - With merry peals shall swell the breeze, - And point with taper spire to Heaven. - - SAMUEL ROGERS. - - - - -WISHING - - - Ring-ting! I wish I were a Primrose, - A bright yellow Primrose blowing in the Spring! - The stooping boughs above me, - The wandering bee to love me, - The fern and moss to creep across, - And the Elm-tree for our King! - - Nay--stay! I wish I were an Elm-tree, - A great lofty Elm-tree, with green leaves gay! - The winds would set them dancing, - The sun and moonshine glance in, - The birds would house among the boughs, - And sweetly sing! - - O--no! I wish I were a Robin, - A Robin or a little Wren, everywhere to go; - Through forest, field, or garden, - And ask no leave or pardon, - Till Winter comes with icy thumbs - To ruffle up our wing! - - Well--tell! Where should I fly to, - Where go to sleep in the dark wood or dell? - Before a day was over, - Home comes the rover, - For Mother’s kiss,--sweeter this - Than any other thing! - - WILLIAM ALLINGHAM. - - - - -BUNCHES OF GRAPES - - - “Bunches of grapes,” says Timothy; - “Pomegranates pink,” says Elaine; - “A junket of cream and a cranberry tart - For me,” says Jane. - - “Love-in-a-mist,” says Timothy; - “Primroses pale,” says Elaine; - “A nosegay of pinks and mignonette - For me,” says Jane. - - “Chariots of gold,” says Timothy; - “Silvery wings,” says Elaine; - “A bumpity ride in a waggon of hay - For me,” says Jane. - - WALTER RAMAL. - - - - -CONTENTMENT - - - Once on a time an old red hen - Went strutting round with pompous clucks, - For she had little babies ten, - A part of which were tiny ducks. - “’Tis very rare that hens,” said she, - “Have baby ducks as well as chicks-- - But I possess, as you can see, - Of chickens four and ducklings six!” - - A season later, this old hen - Appeared, still cackling of her luck, - For, though she boasted babies ten, - Not one among them was a duck! - “’Tis well,” she murmured, brooding o’er - The little chicks of fleecy down, - “My babies now will stay ashore, - And, consequently, cannot drown!” - - The following spring the old red hen - Clucked just as proudly as of yore-- - But lo! her babes were ducklings ten, - Instead of chickens as before! - “’Tis better,” said the old red hen, - As she surveyed her waddling brood; - “A little water now and then - Will surely do my darlings good!” - - But oh! alas, how very sad! - When gentle spring rolled round again, - The eggs eventuated bad, - And childless was the old red hen! - Yet patiently she bore her woe, - And still she wore a cheerful air, - And said: “’Tis best these things are so, - For babies are a dreadful care!” - - I half suspect that many men, - And many, many women too, - Could learn a lesson from the hen - With plumage of vermilion hue. - She ne’er presumed to take offence - At any fate that might befall, - But meekly bowed to Providence-- - She was contented--that was all! - - EUGENE FIELD. - - - - -TOYS AND PLAY, IN-DOORS AND OUT - - - - -THE LAND OF STORY-BOOKS - - At evening when the lamp is lit, - Around the fire my parents sit; - They sit at home and talk and sing, - And do not play at anything. - - Now, with my little gun, I crawl - All in the dark along the wall, - And follow round the forest track - Away behind the sofa back. - - There, in the night, where none can spy, - All in my hunter’s camp I lie, - And play at books that I have read - Till it is time to go to bed. - These are the hills, these are the woods, - These are my starry solitudes; - And there the river by whose brink - The roaring lions come to drink. - - I see the others far away - As if in firelit camp they lay, - And I, like to an Indian scout, - Around their party prowled about. - - So, when my nurse comes in for me, - Home I return across the sea, - And go to bed with backward looks - At my dear land of Story-books. - - R. L. STEVENSON. - - - - -SAND CASTLES - - Build me a castle of sand - Down by the sea. - Here on the edge of the strand - Build it for me. - How shall a foeman invade, - Where may he land, - While we can raise with our spade - Castles of sand? - - Turrets upleap and aspire, - Battlements rise - Sweeping the sea with their fire, - Storming the skies. - Pile that a monarch might own, - Mightily plann’d! - I can’t sit here on a throne, - This is too grand. - - Build me a cottage of sand - Up on the hill; - Snug in a cleft it must stand - Sunny and still. - Plant it with ragwort and ling, - Bramble and bine: - Castles I’ll leave to the King, - This shall be mine. - - Storm-clouds drive over the land, - High flies the spray; - Gone are our houses of sand, - Vanished away! - Look at the damage you’ve done, - Sea-wave and rain! - --“Nay, we but give you your fun - Over again.” - - W. GRAHAM ROBERTSON. - - - - -RING O’ ROSES - - - Hush a while, my darling, for the long day closes, - Nodding into slumber on the blue hill’s crest. - See the little clouds play Ring a ring o’ roses, - Planting Fairy gardens in the red-rose West. - - Greet him for us, cloudlets, say we’re not forgetting - Golden gifts of sunshine, merry hours of play. - Ring a ring o’ roses round the sweet sun’s setting, - Spread a bed of roses for the dear dead day. - - Hush-a-bye, my little one, the dear day dozes, - Doffed his crown of kingship and his fair flag furled, - While the earth and sky play Ring a ring o’ roses, - Ring a ring o’ roses round the rose-red world. - - W. GRAHAM ROBERTSON. - - - - -DREAM-LAND - - - - -WYNKEN, BLYNKEN, AND NOD - - - Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night - Sailed off in a wooden shoe-- - Sailed on a river of crystal light, - Into a sea of dew. - “Where are you going, and what do you wish?” - The old moon asked the three. - “We have come to fish for the herring fish - That live in this beautiful sea; - Nets of silver and gold have we!” - Said Wynken, - Blynken, - And Nod. - - The old moon laughed and sang a song, - As they rocked in the wooden shoe, - And the wind that sped them all night long - Ruffled the waves of dew. - The little stars were the herring fish - That lived in that beautiful sea-- - “Now cast your nets wherever you wish-- - Never afeared are we”: - So cried the stars to the fishermen three: - Wynken, - Blynken, - And Nod. - - All night long their nets they threw - To the stars in the twinkling foam-- - Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe, - Bringing the fishermen home; - ’Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed - As if it could not be, - And some folks thought ’twas a dream they’d dreamed - Of sailing that beautiful sea-- - But I shall name you the fishermen three: - Wynken, - Blynken, - And Nod. - - Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes, - And Nod is a little head, - And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies - Is a wee one’s trundle-bed. - So shut your eyes while mother sings - Of wonderful sights that be, - And you shall see the beautiful things - As you rock in the misty sea, - Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three: - Wynken, - Blynken, - And Nod. - - EUGENE FIELD. - - - - -THE DRUMMER-BOY AND THE SHEPERDESS - - - Drummer-boy, drummer-boy, where is your drum? - And why do you weep, sitting here on your thumb? - The soldiers are out, and the fifes we can hear; - But where is the drum of the young grenadier? - - “My dear little drum it was stolen away - Whilst I was asleep on a sunshiny day; - It was all through the drone of a big bumblebee, - And sheep and a shepherdess under a tree.” - - Shepherdess, shepherdess, where is your crook? - And why is your little lamb over the brook? - It bleats for its dam, and dog Tray is not by, - So why do you stand with a tear in your eye? - - “My dear little crook it was stolen away - Whilst I dreamt a dream on a morning in May; - It was all through the drone of a big bumblebee, - And a drum and a drummer-boy under a tree.” - - W. B. RANDS. - - - - -THE LAND OF DREAMS - - - “Awake, awake, my little boy! - Thou wast thy mother’s only joy; - Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep? - O wake! thy father doth thee keep. - - O what land is the land of dreams? - What are its mountains and what are its streams?” - “O father! I saw my mother there, - Among the lilies by waters fair.” - - “Dear child! I also by pleasant streams - Have wandered all night in the land of dreams, - But, though calm and warm the waters wide - I could not get to the other side.” - - “Father, O father! what do we here, - In this land of unbelief and fear? - The land of dreams is better far, - Above the light of the morning star.” - - WILLIAM BLAKE. - - - - -SWEET AND LOW - - - Sweet and low, sweet and low, - Wind of the western sea, - Low, low, breathe and blow, - Wind of the western sea! - Over the rolling waters go, - Come from the dying moon, and blow, - Blow him again to me; - While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps. - - Sleep and rest, sleep and rest, - Father will come to thee soon; - Rest, rest, on mother’s breast, - Father will come to thee soon; - Father will come to his babe in the nest, - Silver sails all out of the west - Under the silver moon: - Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep. - - ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. - - - - -CRADLE SONG - - - O hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight, - Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright; - The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see, - They all are belonging, dear baby, to thee. - - O fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows, - It calls but the warders that guard thy repose; - Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red, - Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed. - - O hush thee, my baby, the time will soon come, - When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum; - Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may, - For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day. - - SIR WALTER SCOTT. - - - - -MOTHER AND I - - - O Mother-My-Love, if you’ll give me your hand, - And go where I ask you to wander, - I will lead you away to a beautiful land-- - The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder. - We’ll walk in a sweet-posy garden out there, - Where moonlight and starlight are streaming, - And the flowers and the birds are filling the air - With the fragrance and music of dreaming. - - There’ll be no little tired-out boy to undress, - No questions or cares to perplex you; - There’ll be no little bruises or bumps to caress, - Nor patching of stockings to vex you. - For I’ll rock you away on a silver-dew stream, - And sing you asleep when you’re weary, - And no one shall know of our beautiful dream - But you and your own little dearie. - - And when I am tired I’ll nestle my head - In the bosom that’s sooth’d me so often, - And the wide-awake stars shall sing in my stead - A song which our dreaming shall soften. - So Mother-My-Love, let me take your dear hand, - And away through the starlight we’ll wander-- - Away through the mist to the beautiful land-- - The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder! - - EUGENE FIELD. - - - - -FAIRY-LAND - - - - -THE FAIRIES - - - Up the airy mountain, - Down the rushy glen, - We daren’t go a-hunting - For fear of little men; - Wee folk, good folk, - Trooping all together; - Green jacket, red cap, - And white owl’s feather! - - Down along the rocky shore - Some make their home, - They live on crispy pancakes - Of yellow tide-foam; - Some in the reeds - Of the black mountain-lake, - With frogs for their watch-dogs, - All night awake. - - High on the hill-top - The old King sits; - He is now so old and grey - He’s nigh lost his wits. - With a bridge of white mist - Columbkill he crosses, - On his stately journeys - From Slieveleague to Rosses; - Or going up with music - On cold starry nights, - To sup with the Queen - Of the gay Northern Lights. - - They stole little Bridget - For seven years long; - When she came down again - Her friends were all gone. - They took her lightly back, - Between the night and morrow, - They thought that she was fast asleep, - But she was dead with sorrow. - They have kept her ever since - Deep within the lakes, - On a bed of flag-leaves, - Watching till she wakes. - - By the craggy hill-side, - Through the mosses bare, - They have planted thorn-trees - For pleasure here and there. - Is any man so daring - As dig one up in spite, - He shall find their sharpest thorns - In his bed at night. - - Up the airy mountain, - Down the rushy glen, - We daren’t go a-hunting - For fear of little men; - Wee folk, good folk, - Trooping all together, - Green jacket, red cap, - And white owl’s feather! - - WILLIAM ALLINGHAM. - - - - -SHAKESPEARE’S FAIRIES - - -_Some of them_,-- - - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves, - And ye that on the sands with printless foot - Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him - When he comes back; you demi-puppets[2], that - By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make - Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime - Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice - To hear the solemn curfew.... - - -_They Dance and Play_,-- - - Come unto these yellow sands, - And then take hands: - Courtsied when you have, and kiss’d,-- - The wild waves whist[3],-- - Foot it featly[4] here and there; - And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear. - Hark, hark! - _Bow, wow_, - The watch-dogs bark: - _Bow, wow_, - Hark, hark! I hear - The strain of strutting chanticleer - Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow! - - -_Ariel Sings_,-- - - Where the bee sucks, there suck I: - In a cowslip’s bell I lie; - There I couch when owls do cry. - On the bat’s back I do fly - After summer merrily. - Merrily, merrily, shall I live now, - Under the blossom that hangs on the bough. - - -_A Busy One_ - - Over hill, over dale, - Thorough bush, thorough brier, - Over park, over pale, - Thorough flood, thorough fire, - I do wander everywhere, - Swifter than the moonè’s sphere; - And I serve the fairy queen, - To dew her orbs[5] upon the green. - - The cowslips tall her pensioners be; - In their gold coats spots you see; - Those be rubies, fairy favours, - In those freckles live their savours: - I must go seek some dewdrops here, - And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear. - - -_They Sing Their Queen to Sleep_,-- - - You spotted snakes with double tongue, - Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; - Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong; - Come not near our fairy queen. - Philomel, with melody - Sing in our sweet lullaby; - Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby! - Never harm, - Nor spell nor charm, - Come our lovely lady nigh; - So, good night, with lullaby. - - Weaving spiders, come not here; - Hence, you long-legg’d spinners, hence! - Beetles black, approach not near; - Worm nor snail, do no offence. - Philomel, with melody, - Sing in our sweet lullaby; - Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby! - Never harm, - Nor spell nor charm, - Come our lovely lady nigh; - So, good night, with lullaby. - - SHAKESPEARE. - -[2] _Demi-puppets_: half the size of a doll. - -[3] _Whist_: silent. - -[4] _Featly_: neatly, elegantly. - -[5] _Orbs_: circles, or fairy rings. - - - - -THE LAVENDER BEDS - - - The garden was pleasant with old-fashioned flowers, - The sunflowers and hollyhocks stood up like towers; - There were dark turncap lilies and jessamine rare, - And sweet thyme and marjoram scented the air. - - The moon made the sun-dial tell the time wrong; - ’Twas too late in the year for the nightingale’s song; - The box-trees were clipped, and the alleys were straight, - Till you came to the shrubbery hard by the gate. - - The fairies stepped out of the lavender beds, - With mob-caps, or wigs, on their quaint little heads; - My lord had a sword and my lady a fan; - The music struck up and the dancing began. - - I watched them go through with a grave minuet; - Wherever they footed the dew was not wet; - They bowed and they curtsied, the brave and the fair; - And laughter like chirping of crickets was there. - - Then all on a sudden a church clock struck loud: - A flutter, a shiver, was seen in the crowd, - The cock crew, the wind woke, the trees tossed their heads, - And the fairy folk hid in the lavender beds. - - W. B. RANDS. - - - - -FAREWELL TO THE FAIRIES - - - Farewell rewards and fairies, - Good housewives now may say, - For now foul sluts in dairies - Do fare as well as they. - And though they sweep their hearths no less - Than maids were wont to do, - Yet who of late, for cleanliness, - Finds sixpence in her shoe? - - At morning and at evening both, - You merry were and glad, - So little care of sleep or sloth - Those pretty ladies had. - When Tom came home from labour, - Or Cis to milking rose, - Then merrily went their tabor, - And nimbly went their toes. - - Witness those rings and roundelays - Of theirs, which yet remain, - Were footed in Queen Mary’s days - On many a grassy plain; - But since of late Elizabeth, - And later, James came in, - They never danced on any heath - As when the time hath been. - - By which we note the fairies - Were of the old profession, - Their songs were Ave-Maries, - Their dances were procession: - But now, alas! they all are dead, - Or gone beyond the seas; - Or farther for religion fled, - Or else they take their ease. - - A tell-tale in their company - They never could endure, - And whoso kept not secretly - Their mirth, was punished sure; - It was a just and Christian deed - To pinch such black and blue: - O how the commonwealth doth need - Such justices as you! - - RICHARD CORBET (1582-1635). - - - - -DIRGE ON THE DEATH OF OBERON, THE FAIRY KING - - - Toll the lilies’ silver bells! - Oberon, the King, is dead! - In her grief the crimson rose - All her velvet leaves has shed. - - Toll the lilies’ silver bells! - Oberon is dead and gone! - He who looked an emperor - When his glow-worm crown was on. - - Toll the lilies’ silver bells! - Slay the dragonfly, his steed; - Dig his grave within the ring - Of the mushrooms in the mead. - - G. W. THORNBURY. - -(_But he wasn’t dead really. It was all a mistake. So they didn’t slay -the dragonfly after all._) - - - - -KILMENY - -(_A Story about one who went there_) - - - Bonny Kilmeny gaed[6] up the glen; - But it wasna to meet Duneira’s men, - Nor the rosy monk of the isle to see, - For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. - It was only to hear the yorlin[7] sing, - And pull the blue cress-flower round the spring; - To pull the hip and the hindberrye[8], - And the nut that hung frae the hazel-tree; - For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be. - But lang may her minnie[9] look o’er the wa’, - And lang may she seek in the greenwood shaw; - Lang the Laird o’ Duneira blame, - And lang, lang greet[10] e’er Kilmeny come hame! - - When many a day had come and fled, - When grief grew calm, and hope was dead, - When mass for Kilmeny’s soul had been sung, - When the bedesman had prayed and the dead-bell rung; - Late, late in a gloaming, when all was still, - When the fringe was red on the westlin[11] hill, - The wood was sere, the moon i’ the wane, - The reek[12] of the cot hung o’er the plain, - Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane[13]; - When the ingle[14] lowed[15] with an eery gleam, - Late, late in the gloamin’, Kilmeny came hame! - - “Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been? - Lang hae we sought baith holt and dene; - By linn[16], by ford, and green-wood tree, - Yet you are halesome and fair to see. - Where gat you that joup[17] of the lily sheen? - That bonny snood[18] of the birk[19] sae green? - And these roses, the fairest that ever were seen? - Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been?” - - Kilmeny look’d up with a lovely grace, - But nae smile was seen on Kilmeny’s face; - As still was her look, and as still was her ee, - As the stillness that lay on the emerald lea, - Or the mist that sleeps on a waveless sea. - For Kilmeny had been she knew not where, - And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare. - Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew, - Where the rain never fell, and the wind never blew. - But it seem’d as the harp of the sky had rung, - And the airs of heaven play’d round her tongue, - When she spake of the lovely forms she had seen, - And a land where sin had never been; - A land of love and a land of light, - Withouten sun, or moon, or night; - The land of vision it would seem, - And still an everlasting dream. - - * * * * * - - They lifted Kilmeny, they led her away, - And she walk’d in the light of a sunless day; - The sky was a dome of crystal bright, - The fountain of vision, and fountain of light: - The emerald fields were of dazzling glow, - And the flowers of everlasting blow. - Then deep in the stream her body they laid, - That her youth and beauty might never fade; - And they smiled on heaven, when they saw her lie - In the stream of life that wander’d by. - And she heard a song, she heard it sung, - She kenn’d not where; but so sweetly it rung, - It fell on the ear like a dream of the morn: - “O blest be the day Kilmeny was born!” - - * * * * * - - To sing of the sights Kilmeny saw, - So far surpassing nature’s law, - The singer’s voice would sink away, - And the string of his harp would cease to play. - But she saw till the sorrows of man were by, - And all was love and harmony; - Till the stars of heaven fell calmly away, - Like the flakes of snow on a winter day. - - * * * * * - - When seven lang years had come and fled, - When grief was calm and hope was dead; - When scarce was remembered Kilmeny’s name, - Late, late in a gloaming Kilmeny came hame! - And O, her beauty was fair to see, - But still and steadfast was her ee! - Her seymar[20] was the lily flower, - And her cheek the moss-rose in the shower; - And her voice like the distant melody - That floats along the twilight sea. - But she loved to raike[21] the lanely glen, - And keepit away frae the haunts of men; - Her holy hymns unheard to sing, - To suck the flowers, and drink the spring. - But wherever her peaceful form appear’d, - The wild beasts of the hill were cheer’d; - The wolf play’d blythly round the field, - The lordly bison low’d and kneel’d; - The dun deer woo’d with manner bland, - And cower’d aneath her lily hand. - And all in a peaceful ring were hurl’d; - It was like an eve in a sinless world! - - When a month and a day had come and gane, - Kilmeny sought the green-wood wene; - There laid her down on the leaves sae green, - And Kilmeny on earth was never mair seen. - - JAMES HOGG. - - [6] _gaed_: went. - - [7] _yorlin_: yellow-hammer. - - [8] _hindberrye_: wild raspberry. - - [9] _minnie_: mother. - -[10] _greet_: weep. - -[11] _westlin_: western. - -[12] _reek_: smoke. - -[13] _its lane_: alone. - -[14] _ingle_: fire. - -[15] _lowed_: flamed. - -[16] _linn_: waterfall. - -[17] _joup_: bodice. - -[18] _snood_: hair-ribbon. - -[19] _birk_: birch. - -[20] _seymar_: a light robe. - -[21] _raike_: wander through. - - - - -TWO SONGS - - - - -A BOY’S SONG - - - Where the pools are bright and deep, - Where the grey trout lies asleep, - Up the river and over the lea, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - Where the blackbird sings the latest, - Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest, - Where the nestlings chirp and flee, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - Where the mowers mow the cleanest, - Where the hay lies thick and greenest, - There to track the homeward bee, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - Where the hazel bank is steepest, - Where the shadow falls the deepest, - Where the clustering nuts fall free, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - Why the boys should drive away - Little sweet maidens from the play, - Or love to banter and fight so well, - That’s the thing I never could tell. - - But this I know, I love to play - Through the meadow, among the hay; - Up the water and over the lea, - That’s the way for Billy and me. - - JAMES HOGG. - - - - -A GIRL’S SONG - - - There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream, - And the nightingale sings round it all the day long; - In the time of my childhood ’twas like a sweet dream - To sit in the roses and hear the bird’s song. - - That bower and its music I never forget, - But oft when alone in the bloom of the year, - I think--is the nightingale singing there yet? - Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer? - - No, the roses soon withered that hung o’er the wave, - But some blossoms were gathered, while freshly they shone, - And a dew was distilled from their flowers, that gave - All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone. - - Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies, - An essence that breathes of it many a year; - Thus bright to my soul, as ’twas then to my eyes, - Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer! - - THOMAS MOORE. - - - - -FUR AND FEATHER - - - “_Men are brethren of each other, - One in flesh and one in food; - And a sort of foster brother - Is the litter, or the brood, - Of that folk in fur or feather, - Who, with men together, - Breast the wind and weather._” - - CHRISTINA ROSSETTI. - - - - -THREE THINGS TO REMEMBER - - - A Robin Redbreast in a cage - Puts all Heaven in a rage. - - A skylark wounded on the wing - Doth make a cherub cease to sing. - - He who shall hurt the little wren - Shall never be beloved by men. - - WILLIAM BLAKE. - - - - -THE KNIGHT OF BETHLEHEM - - - There was a Knight of Bethlehem, - Whose wealth was tears and sorrows; - His men-at-arms were little lambs, - His trumpeters were sparrows. - His castle was a wooden cross, - On which he hung so high; - His helmet was a crown of thorns, - Whose crest did touch the sky. - - H. N. MAUGHAM. - - - - -THE LAMB - - - Little Lamb, who made thee? - Dost thou know who made thee? - Gave thee life, and bade thee feed - By the stream and o’er the mead; - Gave thee clothing of delight, - Softest clothing, woolly, bright; - Gave thee such a tender voice, - Making all the vales rejoice? - Little lamb, who made thee? - Dost thou know who made thee? - - Little lamb, I’ll tell thee; - Little lamb, I’ll tell thee: - He is callèd by thy name, - For He calls Himself a Lamb. - He is meek, and He is mild, - He became a little child. - I a child, and thou a lamb, - We are called by His name. - Little lamb, God bless thee! - Little lamb, God bless thee! - - WILLIAM BLAKE. - - - - -THE TIGER - - - Tiger, Tiger, burning bright - In the forest of the night, - What immortal hand or eye - Framed thy fearful symmetry? - - In what distant deeps or skies - Burned that fire within thine eyes? - On what wings dared he aspire? - What the hand dared seize the fire? - - And what shoulder, and what art, - Could twist the sinews of thy heart? - When thy heart began to beat, - What dread hand formed thy dread feet? - - What the hammer, what the chain, - Knit thy strength and forged thy brain? - What the anvil? What dread grasp - Dared thy deadly terrors clasp? - - When the stars threw down their spears, - And water’d heaven with their tears, - Did He smile His work to see? - Did He who made the lamb make thee? - - WILLIAM BLAKE. - - - - -I HAD A DOVE - - - I had a dove, and the sweet dove died; - And I have thought it died of grieving; - O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied - With a silken thread of my own hands’ weaving. - Sweet little red feet! why should you die-- - Why would you leave me, sweet bird! why? - You lived alone in the forest tree, - Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me? - I kiss’d you oft and gave you white peas; - Why not live sweetly, as in the green trees? - - JOHN KEATS. - - - - -ROBIN REDBREAST - - - Good-bye, good-bye to Summer! - For Summer’s nearly done; - The garden smiling faintly, - Cool breezes in the sun; - Our thrushes now are silent, - Our swallows flown away,-- - But Robin’s here in coat of brown, - And scarlet breast-knot gay. - Robin, Robin Redbreast, - O Robin dear! - Robin sings so sweetly - In the falling of the year. - - Bright yellow, red, and orange, - The leaves come down in hosts; - The trees are Indian princes, - But soon they’ll turn to ghosts; - The leathery pears and apples - Hang russet on the bough; - It’s Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late, - ’Twill soon be Winter now. - Robin, Robin Redbreast, - O Robin dear! - And what will this poor Robin do? - For pinching days are near. - - The fireside for the cricket, - The wheatstack for the mouse, - When trembling night-winds whistle - And moan all round the house. - The frosty ways like iron, - The branches plumed with snow,-- - Alas! in winter dead and dark, - Where can poor Robin go? - Robin, Robin Redbreast, - O Robin dear! - And a crumb of bread for Robin, - His little heart to cheer. - - WILLIAM ALLINGHAM. - - - - -BLACK BUNNY - - - It was a black Bunny, with white in its head, - Alive when the children went cosy to bed-- - O early next morning that Bunny was dead! - - When Bunny’s young master awoke up from sleep, - To look at the creatures young master did creep, - And saw that this black one lay all of a heap. - - “O Bunny, what ails you? What does it import - That you lean on one side, with your breath coming short? - For I never before saw a thing of the sort!” - - They took him so gently up out of his hutch, - They made him a sick-bed, they loved him so much; - They wrapped him up warm; they said, Poor thing, and such; - - But all to no purpose. Black Bunny he died, - And rolled over limp on his little black side; - The grown-up spectators looked awkward and sighed. - - While, as for those others in that congregation, - You heard voices lifted in sore lamentation; - But three-year-old Baby desired explanation: - - At least, so it seemed. Then they buried their dead - In a nice quiet place, with a flag at his head; - “Poor Bunny!”--in large print--was what the flag said. - - Now, as they were shovelling the earth in the hole, - Little Baby burst out, “I _don’t_ like it!”--poor soul! - And bitterly wept. So the dead had his dole. - - That evening, as Babe she was cuddling to bed, - “The Bunny will come back again,” Baby said, - “And be a _white_ bunny, and never be dead!” - - W. B. RANDS. - - - - -THE COW - - - Thank you, pretty cow, that made - Pleasant milk to soak my bread, - Every day, and every night, - Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white. - - Do not chew the hemlock rank, - Growing on the weedy bank; - But the yellow cowslips eat, - They will make it very sweet. - - Where the purple violet grows, - Where the bubbling water flows, - Where the grass is fresh and fine, - Pretty cow, go there and dine. - - ANN AND JANE TAYLOR. - - - - -THE SKYLARK - - - Bird of the wilderness, - Blythesome and cumberless[22], - Sweet be thy matin o’er moorland and lea! - Emblem of happiness, - Blest is thy dwelling-place-- - O to abide in the desert with thee! - Wild is thy lay and loud - Far in the downy cloud, - Love gives it energy, love gave it birth. - Where, on thy dewy wing, - Where art thou journeying? - Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth. - O’er fell and fountain sheen, - O’er moor and mountain green, - O’er the red streamer that heralds the day, - Over the cloudlet dim, - Over the rainbow’s rim, - Musical cherub, soar, singing, away! - Then, when the gloaming comes, - Low in the heather blooms, - Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be! - Emblem of happiness, - Blest is thy dwelling-place-- - O to abide in the desert with thee! - - JAMES HOGG. - -[22] _cumberless_: unencumbered, free from care. - - - - -CHRISTMAS POEMS - -_Here one would like to have begun with some of the old-time carols. -But carols, somehow, seem to demand certain accompaniments--snow and -frost, starlight and lantern-light, a mingling of Church bells, and -above all their own simple haunting music. In cold print they do not -appeal to us to the same extent. But the poems that follow are in the -true carol-spirit._ - - - - -CHRISTMAS EVE - - - In holly hedges starving birds - Silently mourn the setting year; - Upright like silver-plated swords - The flags stand in the frozen mere. - - The mistletoe we still adore - Upon the twisted hawthorn grows: - In antique gardens hellebore - Puts forth its blushing Christmas rose. - - Shrivell’d and purple, cheek by jowl, - The hips and haws hang drearily; - Roll’d in a ball the sulky owl - Creeps far into his hollow tree. - - In abbeys and cathedrals dim - The birth of Christ is acted o’er; - The kings of Cologne worship him, - Balthazar, Jasper, Melchior. - - The shepherds in the field at night - Beheld an angel glory-clad, - And shrank away with sore affright. - “Be not afraid,” the angel bade. - - “I bring good news to king and clown, - To you here crouching on the sward; - For there is born in David’s town - A Saviour, which is Christ the Lord. - - “Behold the babe is swathed, and laid - Within a manger.” Straight there stood - Beside the angel all arrayed - A heavenly multitude. - - “Glory to God,” they sang; “and peace, - Good pleasure among men.” - The wondrous message of release! - Glory to God again! - - Hush! Hark! the waits, far up the street! - A distant, ghostly charm unfolds, - Of magic music wild and sweet, - Anomes and clarigolds. - - JOHN DAVIDSON. - - - - -A CHRISTMAS CAROL - - - What sweeter music can we bring - Than a carol, for to sing - The birth of this our heavenly King? - Awake the voice! awake the string! - Heart, ear, and eye, and everything! - - Dark and dull night, fly hence away, - And give the honour to this day, - That sees December turned to May. - - If we may ask the reason, say, - The why and wherefore all things here - Seem like the spring-time of the year? - - Why does the chilling winter’s morn - Smile, like a field beset with corn? - Or smell, like to a mead new-shorn, - Thus, on the sudden? - - Come and see - The cause, why things thus fragrant be. - ’Tis He is born, whose quickening birth - Gives light and lustre, public mirth, - To heaven, and the under-earth. - - We see Him come, and know Him ours, - Who with His sunshine and His showers - Turns all the patient ground to flowers. - - The darling of the world is come, - And fit it is we find a room - To welcome Him. The nobler part - Of all the house here, is the heart, - Which we will give Him; and bequeath - This holly, and this ivy wreath, - To do Him honour; who’s our King, - And Lord of all this revelling. - - ROBERT HERRICK. - - - - -A CHILD’S PRESENT TO HIS CHILD-SAVIOUR - - - Go, pretty child, and bear this flower - Unto thy little Saviour; - And tell Him, by that bud now blown, - He is the Rose of Sharon known; - When thou hast said so, stick it there - Upon his bib, or stomacher; - And tell Him, for good handsel[23] too, - That thou hast brought a whistle new, - Made of a clean straight oaten reed, - To charm his cries at time of need. - Tell Him, for coral thou hast none; - But if thou hadst, He should have one; - But poor thou art, and known to be - Even as moneyless, as He. - Lastly, if thou canst win a kiss - From those mellifluous lips of His, - Then never take a second on, - To spoil the first impression. - - ROBERT HERRICK. - -[23] _handsel_: a gift for good luck. - - - - -THE PEACE-GIVER - - - Thou whose birth on earth - Angels sang to men, - While thy stars made mirth, - Saviour, at thy birth. - This day born again; - - As this night was bright - With thy cradle-ray, - Very light of light, - Turn the wild world’s night - To thy perfect day. - - Thou the Word and Lord - In all time and space - Heard, beheld, adored, - With all ages poured - Forth before thy face, - - Lord, what worth in earth - Drew thee down to die? - What therein was worth, - Lord, thy death and birth? - What beneath thy sky? - - Thou whose face gives grace - As the sun’s doth heat, - Let thy sunbright face - Lighten time and space - Here beneath thy feet. - - Bid our peace increase, - Thou that madest morn; - Bid oppression cease; - Bid the night be peace; - Bid the day be born. - - A. C. SWINBURNE. - - - - -VARIOUS - - - - -TO A SINGER - - - My soul is an enchanted boat, - Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float - Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing; - And thine doth like an angel sit - Beside the helm conducting it, - Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing. - It seems to float ever, for ever, - Upon that many-winding river, - Between mountains, woods, abysses, - A paradise of wildernesses! - Till, like one in slumber bound, - Borne to the ocean, I float down, around, - Into a sea profound, of ever-spreading sound. - Meanwhile thy spirit lifts its pinions - In music’s most serene dominions; - Catching the winds that fan that happy heaven. - And we sail on, away, afar, - Without a course, without a star, - But by the instinct of sweet music driven; - Till through Elysian garden islets - By thee, most beautiful of pilots, - Where never mortal pinnace glided, - The boat of my desire is guided: - Realms where the air we breathe is love, - Which in the winds on the waves doth move, - Harmonizing this earth with what we feel above. - - P. B. SHELLEY. - - - - -THE HAPPY PIPER - - - Piping down the valleys wild, - Piping songs of pleasant glee, - On a cloud I saw a child, - And he laughing said to me: - - “Pipe a song about a Lamb!” - So I piped with merry cheer. - “Piper, pipe that song again”; - So I piped: he wept to hear. - - “Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe; - Sing thy songs of happy cheer!” - So I sang the same again, - While he wept with joy to hear. - - “Piper, sit thee down and write - In a book that all may read.” - So he vanish’d from my sight, - And I pluck’d a hollow reed, - - And I made a rural pen, - And I stain’d the water clear, - And I wrote my happy songs - Every child may joy to hear. - - WILLIAM BLAKE. - - - - -THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB - - - The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold, - And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold; - And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea, - When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee. - - Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green, - That host with their banners at sunset were seen: - Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown, - That host on the morrow lay wither’d and strown. - - For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast, - And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed; - And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill, - And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still! - - And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide, - But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride: - And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf, - And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf. - - And there lay the rider distorted and pale, - With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail; - And the tents were all silent, the banners alone, - The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown. - - And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail, - And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal; - And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword, - Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord! - - LORD BYRON. - - - - -_The next two spirited poems--both hailing from America--are inserted -with a view to their being useful to boys who have a taste for -recitation._ - - - - -SHERIDAN’S RIDE - - - Up from the south at break of day, - Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay, - The affrighted air with a shudder bore, - Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain’s door, - The terrible grumble and rumble and roar, - Telling the battle was on once more-- - And Sheridan twenty miles away! - - And wilder still those billows of war - Thundered along the horizon’s bar; - And louder yet into Winchester rolled - The roar of that red sea uncontrolled, - Making the blood of the listener cold - As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray, - With Sheridan twenty miles away! - - But there is a road from Winchester town, - A good broad highway leading down; - And there, through the flash of the morning light, - A steed, as black as the steeds of night, - Was seen to pass as with eagle flight. - As if he knew the terrible need, - He stretched away with his utmost speed; - Hills rose and fell, but his heart was gay, - With Sheridan fifteen miles away! - - Still sprang from those swift hoofs, thundering south, - The dust, like the smoke from the cannon’s mouth, - Or the trail of a comet sweeping faster and faster, - Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster; - The heart of the steed and the heart of the master - Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls, - Impatient to be where the battle-field calls; - Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play, - With Sheridan only ten miles away! - - The first that the General saw was the groups - Of stragglers, and then--the retreating troops! - What was done--what to do--a glance told him both; - And, striking his spurs, with a terrible oath - He dashed down the line ’mid a storm of huzzahs, - And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because - The sight of the Master compelled it to pause. - With foam and with dust the black charger was grey; - By the flash of his eye and his red nostril’s play - He seemed to the whole great army to say - “I have brought you Sheridan, all the way - From Winchester town to save the day!” - - Hurrah, hurrah, for Sheridan! - Hurrah, hurrah, for horse and man! - And when their statues are placed on high - Under the dome of the Union sky - --The American soldier’s Temple of Fame-- - There, with the glorious General’s name, - Be it said in letters both bold and bright, - “Here is the steed that saved the day - By carrying Sheridan into the fight, - From Winchester--twenty miles away!” - - THOMAS BUCHANAN READ. - - - - -COLUMBUS - - - Behind him lay the gray Azores, - Behind, the Gates of Hercules; - Before him not the ghost of shores; - Before him only shoreless seas. - The good mate said: “Now must we pray, - For lo! the very stars are gone. - Brave Admiral, speak; what shall I say?” - “Why, say ‘Sail on! sail on! and on!’” - - “My men grow mutinous day by day; - My men grow ghastly, wan and weak.” - The stout mate thought of home; a spray - Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek. - “What shall I say, brave Admiral, say, - If we sight naught but seas at dawn?” - “Why, you shall say at break of day: - ‘Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!’” - - They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow, - Until at last the blanched mate said: - “Why, now not even God would know - Should I and all my men fall dead. - These very winds forget their way, - For God from these dread seas is gone. - Now speak, brave Admiral, speak and say--” - He said: “Sail on! sail on! and on!” - - They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate: - “This mad sea shows his teeth to-night. - He curls his lip, he lies in wait, - He lifts his teeth as if to bite! - Brave Admiral, say but one good word: - What shall we do when hope is gone?” - The words leapt like a leaping sword: - “Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!” - - Then, pale and worn, he paced his deck, - And peered through darkness. Ah, that night - Of all dark nights! And then a speck-- - A light! A light! At last a light! - It grew, a starlit flag unfurled! - It grew to be Time’s burst of dawn. - He gained a world; he gave that world - Its grandest lesson: “On! sail on!” - - JOAQUIN MILLER. - - - - -_Macaulay’s “Lays of Ancient Rome,” of which this is the first, -deal only with the legends that Rome in her greatness liked to tell -concerning her early beginnings. Unfortunately there is no similar -group of poems treating of Imperial Rome, the centre of a world-empire; -but children must please not think of the Mistress of the World purely -as a little riverside town which could free itself from outside trouble -by chopping down a wooden bridge._ - - - - -HORATIUS - - Lars Porsena of Clusium - By the Nine Gods he swore - That the great house of Tarquin - Should suffer wrong no more. - By the Nine Gods he swore it, - And named a trysting day, - And bade his messengers ride forth - East and west and south and north - To summon his array. - - East and west and south and north - The messengers ride fast, - And tower and town and cottage - Have heard the trumpet’s blast. - Shame on the false Etruscan - Who lingers in his home, - When Porsena of Clusium - Is on the march for Rome. - - The horsemen and the footmen - Are pouring in amain - From many a stately market-place, - From many a fruitful plain; - From many a lonely hamlet - Which, hid by beech and pine, - Like an eagle’s nest hangs on the crest - Of purple Apennine; - - From lordly Volaterræ, - Where scowls the far-famed hold - Piled by the hands of giants - For godlike kings of old; - From sea-girt Populonia - Whose sentinels descry - Sardinia’s snowy mountain-tops - Fringing the southern sky; - - From the proud mart of Pisæ, - Queen of the western waves, - Where ride Massilia’s triremes - Heavy with fair-haired slaves; - From where sweet Clanis wanders - Through corn and vines and flowers; - From where Cortona lifts to heaven - Her diadem of towers. - - Tall are the oaks whose acorns - Drop in dark Auser’s rill; - Fat are the stags that champ the boughs - Of the Ciminian hill; - Beyond all streams Clitumnus - Is to the herdsman dear; - Best of all pools the fowler loves - The great Volsinian mere. - - But now no stroke of woodman - Is heard by Auser’s rill; - No hunter tracks the stag’s green path - Up the Ciminian hill; - Unwatched along Clitumnus - Grazes the milk-white steer; - Unharmed the water-fowl may dip - In the Volsinian mere. - - The harvests of Arretium - This year old men shall reap; - This year young boys in Umbro - Shall plunge the struggling sheep; - And in the vats of Luna - This year the must[24] shall foam - Round the white feet of laughing girls - Whose sires have marched to Rome. - - There be thirty chosen prophets, - The wisest of the land, - Who always by Lars Porsena - Both morn and evening stand: - Evening and morn the Thirty - Have turned the verses o’er, - Traced from the right on linen white - By mighty Seers of yore. - - And with one voice the Thirty - Have their glad answer given: - “Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena; - Go forth, beloved of Heaven; - Go, and return in glory - To Clusium’s royal dome, - And hang round Nurscia’s altars - The golden shields of Rome.” - - And now hath every city - Sent up her tale of men; - The foot are fourscore thousand, - The horse are thousands ten. - Before the gates of Sutrium - Is met the great array. - A proud man was Lars Porsena - Upon the trysting day! - - For all the Etruscan armies - Were ranged beneath his eye, - And many a banished Roman, - And many a stout ally; - And with a mighty following - To join the muster came - The Tusculan Mamilius, - Prince of the Latian name. - - But by the yellow Tiber - Was tumult and affright: - From all the spacious champaign - To Rome men took their flight. - A mile around the city - The throng stopped up the ways; - A fearful sight it was to see, - Through two long nights and days. - - For agèd folk on crutches, - And women great with child, - And mothers sobbing over babes - That clung to them and smiled, - And sick men borne in litters - High on the necks of slaves, - And troops of sun-burned husbandmen - With reaping-hooks and staves, - - And droves of mules and asses - Laden with skins of wine, - And endless flocks of goats and sheep, - And endless herds of kine, - And endless trains of waggons - That creaked beneath the weight - Of corn-sacks and of household goods, - Choked every roaring gate. - - Now from the rock Tarpeian - Could the wan burghers spy - The line of blazing villages - Red in the midnight sky. - The Fathers of the City, - They sat all night and day, - For every hour some horseman came - With tidings of dismay. - - To eastward and to westward - Have spread the Tuscan bands; - Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote - In Crustumerium stands. - Verbenna down to Ostia - Hath wasted all the plain; - Astur hath stormed Janiculum, - And the stout guards are slain. - - I wis, in all the Senate - There was no heart so bold - But sore it ached, and fast it beat, - When that ill news was told. - Forthwith up rose the Consul, - Up rose the Fathers all; - In haste they girded up their gowns, - And hied them to the wall. - - They held a council standing - Before the River-Gate; - Short time was there, ye well may guess, - For musing or debate. - Out spake the Consul roundly: - “The bridge must straight go down; - For, since Janiculum is lost, - Nought else can save the town.” - - Just then a scout came flying, - All wild with haste and fear: - “To arms! to arms! Sir Consul: - Lars Porsena is here.” - On the low hills to westward - The Consul fixed his eye, - And saw the swarthy storm of dust - Rise fast along the sky. - - And nearer fast and nearer - Doth the red whirlwind come; - And louder still and still more loud - From underneath that rolling cloud - Is heard the trumpet’s war-note proud, - The trampling, and the hum. - And plainly and more plainly - Now through the gloom appears, - Far to left and far to right, - In broken gleams of dark-blue light, - The long array of helmets bright, - The long array of spears. - - And plainly and more plainly - Above that glimmering line - Now might ye see the banners - Of twelve fair cities shine; - But the banner of proud Clusium - Was highest of them all, - The terror of the Umbrian, - The terror of the Gaul. - - And plainly and more plainly - Now might the burghers know, - By port and vest, by horse and crest, - Each warlike Lucumo[25]. - There Cilnius of Arretium - On his fleet roan was seen; - And Astur of the fourfold shield, - Girt with the brand none else may wield, - Tolumnius with the belt of gold, - And dark Verbenna from the hold - By reedy Thrasymene. - - Fast by the royal standard - O’erlooking all the war, - Lars Porsena of Clusium - Sate in his ivory car. - By the right wheel rode Mamilius, - Prince of the Latian name; - And by the left false Sextus, - That wrought the deed of shame. - - But when the face of Sextus - Was seen among the foes, - A yell that rent the firmament - From all the town arose. - On the house-tops was no woman - But spat towards him, and hissed; - No child but screamed out curses, - And shook its little fist. - - But the Consul’s brow was sad, - And the Consul’s speech was low, - And darkly looked he at the wall, - And darkly at the foe. - “Their van will be upon us - Before the bridge goes down; - And if they once may win the bridge, - What hope to save the town?” - - Then out spake brave Horatius, - The Captain of the gate: - “To every man upon this earth - Death cometh soon or late; - And how can man die better - Than facing fearful odds - For the ashes of his fathers - And the temples of his Gods, - - And for the tender mother - Who dandled him to rest, - And for the wife who nurses - His baby at her breast, - And for the holy maidens - Who feed the eternal flame, - To save them from false Sextus - That wrought the deed of shame? - - Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul, - With all the speed ye may; - I, with two more to help me, - Will hold the foe in play. - In yon strait path a thousand - May well be stopped by three: - Now who will stand on either hand, - And keep the bridge with me?” - - Then out spake Spurius Lartius, - A Ramnian proud was he: - “Lo, I will stand at thy right hand, - And keep the bridge with thee.” - And out spake strong Herminius, - Of Titian blood was he: - “I will abide on thy left side, - And keep the bridge with thee.” - - “Horatius,” quoth the Consul, - “As thou sayest, so let it be.” - And straight against that great array - Forth went the dauntless Three. - For Romans in Rome’s quarrel - Spared neither land nor gold, - Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life - In the brave days of old. - - Then none was for a party; - Then all were for the State; - Then the great man helped the poor, - And the poor man loved the great; - Then lands were fairly portioned; - Then spoils were fairly sold; - The Romans were like brothers - In the brave days of old. - - Now Roman is to Roman - More hateful than a foe, - And the Tribunes beard the high, - And the Fathers grind the low. - As we wax hot in faction, - In battle we wax cold: - Wherefore men fight not as they fought - In the brave days of old. - - Now while the Three were tightening - Their harness on their backs, - The Consul was the foremost man - To take in hand an axe: - And Fathers mixed with Commons - Seized hatchet, bar, and crow, - And smote upon the planks above, - And loosed the props below. - - Meanwhile the Tuscan army, - Right glorious to behold, - Came flashing back the noonday light, - Rank behind rank, like surges bright - Of a broad sea of gold. - Four hundred trumpets sounded - A peal of warlike glee, - As that great host, with measured tread, - And spears advanced, and ensigns spread, - Rolled slowly towards the bridge’s head, - Where stood the dauntless Three. - - The Three stood calm and silent, - And looked upon the foes, - And a great shout of laughter - From all the vanguard rose: - And forth three chiefs came spurring - Before that deep array; - To earth they sprang, their swords they drew, - And lifted high their shields, and flew - To win the narrow way; - - Aunus from green Tifernum, - Lord of the Hill of Vines; - And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves - Sicken in Ilva’s mines; - And Picus, long to Clusium - Vassal in peace and war, - Who led to fight his Umbrian powers - From that grey crag where, girt with towers, - The fortress of Nequinum lowers - O’er the pale waves of Nar. - - Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus - Into the stream beneath: - Herminius struck at Seius, - And clove him to the teeth: - At Picus brave Horatius - Darted one fiery thrust, - And the proud Umbrian’s gilded arms - Clashed in the bloody dust. - - Then Ocnus of Falerii - Rushed on the Roman Three; - And Lausulus of Urgo, - The rover of the sea; - And Aruns of Volsinium, - Who slew the great wild boar, - The great wild boar that had his den - Amidst the reeds of Cosa’s fen, - And wasted fields, and slaughtered men, - Along Albinia’s shore. - - Herminius smote down Aruns: - Lartius laid Ocnus low: - Right to the heart of Lausulus - Horatius sent a blow. - “Lie there,” he cried, “fell pirate! - No more, aghast and pale, - From Ostia’s walls the crowd shall mark - The track of thy destroying bark. - No more Campania’s hinds shall fly - To woods and caverns when they spy - Thy thrice-accursed sail.” - - But now no sound of laughter - Was heard amongst the foes. - A wild and wrathful clamour - From all the vanguard rose. - Six spears’ lengths from the entrance - Halted that deep array, - And for a space no man came forth - To win the narrow way. - - But hark! the cry is “Astur!” - And lo! the ranks divide; - And the great Lord of Luna - Comes with his stately stride. - Upon his ample shoulders - Clangs loud the fourfold shield, - And in his hand he shakes the brand - Which none but he can wield. - - He smiled on those bold Romans - A smile serene and high; - He eyed the flinching Tuscans, - And scorn was in his eye. - Quoth he, “The she-wolf’s litter - Stand savagely at bay: - But will ye dare to follow, - If Astur clears the way?” - - Then, whirling up his broadsword - With both hands to the height, - He rushed against Horatius, - And smote with all his might. - With shield and blade Horatius - Right deftly turned the blow: - The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh; - It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh: - The Tuscans raised a joyful cry - To see the red blood flow. - - He reeled, and on Herminius - He leaned one breathing-space; - Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds, - Sprang right at Astur’s face. - Through teeth, and skull, and helmet, - So fierce a thrust he sped, - The good sword stood a handbreadth out - Behind the Tuscan’s head. - - And the great Lord of Luna - Fell at that deadly stroke, - As falls on Mount Alvernus - A thunder-smitten oak: - Far o’er the crashing forest - The giant arms lie spread; - And the pale augurs, muttering low, - Gaze on the blasted head. - - On Astur’s throat Horatius - Right firmly pressed his heel, - And thrice and four times tugged amain, - Ere he wrenched out the steel. - “And see,” he cried, “the welcome, - Fair guests, that waits you here! - What noble Lucumo comes next - To taste our Roman cheer?” - - But at his haughty challenge - A sullen murmur ran, - Mingled of wrath and shame and dread, - Along that glittering van. - There lacked not men of prowess, - Nor men of lordly race; - For all Etruria’s noblest - Were round the fatal place. - - But all Etruria’s noblest - Felt their hearts sink to see - On the earth the bloody corpses, - In the path the dauntless Three: - And, from the ghastly entrance - Where those bold Romans stood, - All shrank, like boys who unaware, - Ranging the woods to start a hare, - Come to the mouth of the dark lair - Where, growling low, a fierce old bear - Lies amidst bones and blood. - - Was none who would be foremost - To lead such dire attack; - But those behind cried “Forward!” - And those before cried “Back!” - And backward now and forward - Wavers the deep array; - And on the tossing sea of steel, - To and fro the standards reel; - And the victorious trumpet-peal - Dies fitfully away. - - Yet one man for one moment - Strode out before the crowd; - Well known was he to all the Three, - And they gave him greeting loud. - “Now welcome, welcome, Sextus! - Now welcome to thy home! - Why dost thou stay, and turn away? - Here lies the road to Rome.” - - Thrice looked he at the city; - Thrice looked he at the dead; - And thrice came on in fury, - And thrice turned back in dread: - And, white with fear and hatred, - Scowled at the narrow way - Where, wallowing in a pool of blood, - The bravest Tuscans lay. - - But meanwhile axe and lever - Have manfully been plied; - And now the bridge hangs tottering - Above the boiling tide. - “Come back, come back, Horatius!” - Loud cried the Fathers all. - “Back, Lartius! back, Herminius! - Back, ere the ruin fall!” - - Back darted Spurius Lartius; - Herminius darted back: - And, as they passed, beneath their feet - They felt the timbers crack. - But, when they turned their faces, - And on the farther shore - Saw brave Horatius stand alone, - They would have crossed once more. - - But with a crash like thunder - Fell every loosened beam, - And, like a dam the mighty wreck - Lay right athwart the stream: - And a long shout of triumph - Rose from the walls of Rome, - As to the highest turret-tops - Was splashed the yellow foam. - - And, like a horse unbroken - When first he feels the rein, - The furious river struggled hard, - And tossed his tawny mane; - And burst the curb, and bounded, - Rejoicing to be free; - And whirling down, in fierce career, - Battlement, and plank, and pier, - Rushed headlong to the sea. - - Alone stood brave Horatius, - But constant still in mind; - Thrice thirty thousand foes before, - And the broad flood behind. - “Down with him!” cried false Sextus, - With a smile on his pale face. - “Now yield thee,” cried Lars Porsena, - “Now yield thee to our grace.” - - Round turned he, as not deigning - Those craven ranks to see; - Nought spake he to Lars Porsena, - To Sextus nought spake he; - But he saw on Palatinus - The white porch of his home; - And he spake to the noble river - That rolls by the towers of Rome. - - “O Tiber! father Tiber! - To whom the Romans pray, - A Roman’s life, a Roman’s arms - Take thou in charge this day!” - So he spake, and speaking sheathèd - The good sword by his side, - And with his harness on his back - Plunged headlong in the tide. - - No sound of joy or sorrow - Was heard from either bank; - But friends and foes in dumb surprise, - With parted lips and straining eyes, - Stood gazing where he sank; - And when above the surges - They saw his crest appear, - All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry, - And even the ranks of Tuscany - Could scarce forbear to cheer. - - But fiercely ran the current, - Swollen high by months of rain: - And fast his blood was flowing; - And he was sore in pain, - And heavy with his armour, - And spent with changing blows: - And oft they thought him sinking, - But still again he rose. - - Never, I ween, did swimmer, - In such an evil case, - Struggle through such a raging flood - Safe to the landing-place: - But his limbs were borne up bravely - By the brave heart within, - And our good father Tiber - Bare bravely up his chin. - - “Curse on him!” quoth false Sextus; - “Will not the villain drown? - But for this stay ere close of day - We should have sacked the town!” - “Heaven help him!” quoth Lars Porsena, - “And bring him safe to shore; - For such a gallant feat of arms - Was never seen before.” - - And now he feels the bottom; - Now on dry earth he stands; - Now round him throng the Fathers - To press his gory hands; - And now with shouts and clapping, - And noise of weeping loud, - He enters through the River-Gate, - Borne by the joyous crowd. - - They gave him of the corn-land, - That was of public right, - As much as two strong oxen - Could plough from morn till night; - And they made a molten image, - And set it up on high, - And there it stands unto this day - To witness if I lie. - - It stands in the Comitium - Plain for all folk to see; - Horatius in his harness, - Halting upon one knee: - And underneath is written, - In letters all of gold, - How valiantly he kept the bridge - In the brave days of old. - - And still his name sounds stirring - Unto the men of Rome, - As the trumpet-blast that cries to them - To charge the Volscian home; - And wives still pray to Juno - For boys with hearts as bold - As his who kept the bridge so well - In the brave days of old. - - And in the nights of winter, - When the cold north winds blow, - And the long howling of the wolves - Is heard amidst the snow; - When round the lonely cottage - Roars loud the tempest’s din, - And the good logs of Algidus - Roar louder yet within; - - When the oldest cask is opened, - And the largest lamp is lit; - When the chestnuts glow in the embers, - And the kid turns on the spit; - When young and old in circle - Around the firebrands close; - When the girls are weaving baskets, - And the lads are shaping bows; - - When the goodman mends his armour - And trims his helmet’s plume; - When the goodwife’s shuttle merrily - Goes flashing through the loom; - With weeping and with laughter - Still is the story told, - How well Horatius kept the bridge - In the brave days of old. - - LORD MACAULAY. - -[24] _must_: grape-juice. - -[25] _Lucumo_: Etruscan nobleman. - - - - -INDEX OF AUTHORS - - - PAGE - - Allingham, William 34, 48, 68 - - Anonymous 1-8, 11, 13 - - Blake, William 45, 65, 66, 80 - - Byron, Lord 81 - - Coleridge, Samuel Taylor 25 - - Coleridge, Sara 17 - - Corbet, Richard 55 - - Davidson, John 28, 73 - - Dobell, Sydney 26 - - Field, Eugene 36, 42, 47 - - Follen, Eliza Lee 8 - - Gale, Norman 29 - - Herrick, Robert 15, 22, 75, 76 - - Hogg, James 58, 62, 72 - - Howitt, Mary 24 - - Howitt, William 19 - - Keats, John 67 - - Lowell, Amy 12 - - Macaulay, Lord 88 - - Maugham, H. N. 65 - - Miller, Joaquin 86 - - Moore, Thomas 63 - - Prentiss, Mrs E. 10 - - Ramal, Walter 35 - - Rands, William Brighty 12, 44, 54, 69 - - Read, Thomas Buchanan 83 - - Robertson, W. Graham 22, 39, 41 - - Rogers, Samuel 33 - - Roscoe, William 30 - - Scott, Sir Walter 46 - - Shakespeare, William 15, 28, 51 - - Shelley, Percy Bysshe 78 - - Stevenson, Robert Louis 38 - - Swinburne, Algernon Charles 77 - - Taylor, Ann and Jane 9, 14, 71 - - Tennyson, Lord 45 - - Thornbury, G. W. 57 - - Wordsworth, William 16, 24 - - - - -INDEX OF FIRST LINES - - - PAGE - - A Robin Redbreast in a cage 65 - - At early dawn through London you must go 28 - - At evening when the lamp is lit 38 - - Awake, awake, my little boy 45 - - Behind him lay the gray Azores 86 - - Bird of the wilderness 72 - - Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go! 6 - - Bonny Kilmeny gaed up the glen 58 - - Build me a castle of sand 39 - - “Bunches of grapes,” says Timothy 35 - - Buttercups and daisies 24 - - Cold and raw 7 - - Come, take up your hats, and away let us haste 30 - - Come unto these yellow sands 51 - - Curly Locks! Curly Locks! 3 - - Daffodils 15 - - Do you know what the birds say? The sparrow, - the dove 25 - - Draw a pail of water 4 - - Drummer-boy, drummer-boy, where is your drum 44 - - Fair daffodils, we weep to see 15 - - Farewell rewards and fairies 55 - - First, April, she with mellow showers 22 - - First came the primrose 26 - - Go, pretty child, and bear this flower 76 - - Good-bye, good-bye to Summer 68 - - Here in the country’s heart 29 - - Here’s another day, dear 22 - - Hush a while, my darling, for the long day closes 41 - - I am the Cat of Cats. I am 12 - - I had a dove, and the sweet dove died 67 - - I had a little nut-tree 5 - - I have a little sister, they call her Peep, Peep 7 - - I like little Pussy, her coat is so warm 11 - - I saw a ship a-sailing 4 - - I wander’d lonely as a cloud 16 - - In holly hedges starving birds 73 - - In marble walls as white as milk 8 - - It was a black Bunny, with white in its head 69 - - January brings the snow 17 - - Jenny Wren fell sick 2 - - Lars Porsena of Clusium 88 - - Little baby, lay your head 14 - - Little Lamb, who made thee? 65 - - Matthew, Mark, Luke and John 2 - - Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring 1 - - Mine be a cot beside the hill 33 - - My maid Mary she minds the dairy 5 - - My soul is an enchanted boat 78 - - O hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight 46 - - O look at the moon 8 - - O Mother-my-Love, if you’ll give me your hand 47 - - Once on a time an old red hen 36 - - Once there was a little kitty 10 - - Over hill, over dale 52 - - Piping down the valleys wild 80 - - Pussy-cat Mew jumped over a coal 3 - - Ring-ting! I wish I were a Primrose 34 - - Sea shell, Sea shell 12 - - Sleep, baby, sleep 13 - - Sweet and low, sweet and low 45 - - Thank you, pretty cow, that made 71 - - The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold 81 - - The cock is crowing 24 - - The cock’s on the housetop 6 - - The cuckoo’s a bonny bird 13 - - The garden was pleasant with old-fashioned flowers 54 - - The north wind doth blow 7 - - The wind one morning sprang up from sleep 19 - - There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream 63 - - There was a Knight of Bethlehem 65 - - Thou whose birth on earth 77 - - Tiger, Tiger, burning bright 66 - - Toll the lilies’ silver bells 57 - - Twinkle, twinkle, little star 9 - - Under the greenwood tree 28 - - Up from the south at break of day 83 - - Up the airy mountain 48 - - We’ve plough’d our land, we’ve sown our seed 13 - - What sweeter music can we bring 75 - - When the wind is in the East 6 - - Where the bee sucks there suck I 52 - - Where the pools are bright and deep 62 - - Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night 42 - - Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves 51 - - You spotted snakes with double tongue 53 - - - - -Cambridge: - -PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS - - - - -The Cambridge Book of Poetry for Children - -PART II - - - - -CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS - -C. F. CLAY, MANAGER - - London: FETTER LANE, E.C. - Edinburgh: 100 PRINCES STREET - -[Illustration] - - Bombay, Calcutta and Madras: MACMILLAN AND CO., LTD. - Toronto: J. M. DENT AND SONS, LTD. - Tokyo: THE MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA - - Copyrighted in the United States of America by - G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS, - 2, 4 AND 6, WEST 45TH STREET, NEW YORK CITY - - _All rights reserved_ - - - - -The Cambridge Book of Poetry for Children - - Edited by - KENNETH GRAHAME - - Author of _The Golden Age_, _Dream Days_, _The Wind - in the Willows_, _etc._ - -PART II - - Cambridge: - at the University Press - 1916 - - - - -NOTE - - -The Editor has to express his thanks for permission to use copyright -matter to the Editor of _A Sailor’s Garland_ and its publishers, Messrs -Methuen, to Mr Elkin Mathews for the poem by Richard Hovey, to Messrs -G. Routledge & Sons for a poem by Joaquin Miller. - - - - -CONTENTS - - - PAGE - - NATURE, COUNTRY AND THE OPEN AIR - - To Meadows _R. Herrick_ 1 - The Brook _A. Tennyson_ 2 - Recollections of Early Childhood _W. Wordsworth_ 4 - To Autumn J. _Keats_ 7 - Ode to the West Wind _P. B. Shelley_ 9 - To a Skylark ” 13 - The Moon-Goddess _Ben Jonson_ 18 - Home-Thoughts from Abroad _R. Browning_ 19 - Home-Thoughts from the Sea ” 20 - - GREEN SEAS AND SAILOR MEN - - 1. _The Call of the Sea_ - Ye Mariners of England _T. Campbell_ 21 - The Secret of the Sea _H. W. Longfellow_ 22 - A Dutch Picture ” 24 - Sea Memories ” 26 - The Sea Gypsy _Richard Hovey_ 27 - The Greenwich Pensioner 28 - The Press-Gang 30 - A Sea Dirge _W. Shakespeare_ 30 - - 2. _Its Lawless Joys_ - The Old Buccaneer _C. Kingsley_ 31 - The Salcombe Seaman’s Flaunt to the - Proud Pirate 34 - The Smuggler 36 - - ARMS AND THE MAN - - The Maid _Theodore Roberts_ 37 - The Eve of Waterloo _Lord Byron_ 39 - The Glory that was Greece ” 43 - Battle Hymn of the American Republic _Julia Ward Howe_ 47 - To Lucasta, on going to the Wars _Richard Lovelace_ 48 - The Black Prince _Sir Walter Scott_ 49 - The Burial of Sir John Moore _Charles Wolfe_ 50 - How Sleep the Brave _William Collins_ 52 - Soldier, Rest! _Sir Walter Scott_ 53 - - THE OTHER SIDE OF IT - - 1. The Patriot _Robert Browning_ 54 - 2. For those who fail _Joaquin Miller_ 56 - 3. Keeping On _A. H. Clough_ 57 - - STORY-POEMS - - The Lady of Shalott _Alfred Tennyson_ 58 - The Forsaken Merman _Matthew Arnold_ 65 - The Legend Beautiful _H. W. Longfellow_ 72 - Abou Ben Adhem _Leigh Hunt_ 77 - The Sands of Dee _Charles Kingsley_ 78 - Lochinvar _Sir Walter Scott_ 79 - - DAY-DREAMS - - Dreams to Sell _T. L. Beddoes_ 83 - The Lost Bower _E. B. Browning_ 84 - Echo and the Ferry _Jean Ingelow_ 92 - Poor Susan’s Dream _W. Wordsworth_ 100 - Fancy W. _Shakespeare_ 101 - - TWO HOME-COMINGS - - 1. The Good Woman Made Welcome in - Heaven _R. Crashaw_ 102 - 2. The Soldier Relieved _R. Browning_ 103 - - WHEN KNIGHTS WERE BOLD - - Hunting Song _Sir Walter Scott_ 104 - The Riding to the Tournament _G. W. Thornbury_ 105 - - VARIOUS - - A Red, Red Rose _Robert Burns_ 113 - Blow, Bugle, Blow _Alfred Tennyson_ 114 - West and East _Matthew Arnold_ 115 - Genseric _Owen Meredith_ 116 - Kubla Khan _S. T. Coleridge_ 118 - Something to Remember _R. Browning_ 120 - Ring Out, Wild Bells _A. Tennyson_ 121 - - - - -NATURE, COUNTRY, AND THE OPEN AIR - - - - -TO MEADOWS - - - Ye have been fresh and green, - Ye have been fill’d with flowers; - And ye the walks have been - Where maids have spent their hours. - - You have beheld how they - With wicker arks did come - To kiss and bear away - The richer cowslips home. - - You’ve heard them sweetly sing, - And seen them in a round: - Each virgin like a spring, - With honeysuckles crown’d. - - But now we see none here - Whose silv’ry feet did tread - And with dishevelled hair - Adorn’d this smoother mead. - - Like unthrifts, having spent - Your stock, and needy grown, - You’re left here to lament - Your poor estates, alone. - - ROBERT HERRICK. - - - - -THE BROOK - - - I come from haunts of coot and hern[26], - I make a sudden sally, - And sparkle out among the fern, - To bicker down a valley. - - By thirty hills I hurry down, - Or slip between the ridges, - By twenty thorps[27], a little town, - And half a hundred bridges. - - I chatter over stony ways - In little sharps and trebles, - I bubble into eddying bays, - I babble on the pebbles. - - With many a curve my banks I fret - By many a field and fallow, - And many a fairy foreland set - With willow-weed and mallow. - - I chatter, chatter, as I flow - To join the brimming river, - For men may come and men may go, - But I go on for ever. - - I wind about and in and out, - With here a blossom sailing, - And here and there a lusty trout, - And here and there a grayling. - - And here and there a foamy flake - Upon me, as I travel - With many a silvery waterbreak - Above the golden gravel. - - I steal by lawns and grassy plots, - I slide by hazel covers; - I move the sweet forget-me-nots - That grow for happy lovers. - - I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance, - Among my skimming swallows; - I make the netted sunbeam dance - Against my sandy shallows. - - I murmur under moon and stars - In brambly wildernesses; - I linger by my shingly bars; - I loiter round my cresses; - - And out again I curve and flow - To join the brimming river, - For men may come and men may go, - But I go on for ever. - - ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. - -[26] _hern_: heron. - -[27] _thorps_: villages. - - - - -RECOLLECTIONS OF EARLY CHILDHOOD - - - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream, - The earth, and every common sight, - To me did seem - Apparell’d in celestial light, - The glory and the freshness of a dream. - It is not now as it hath been of yore;-- - Turn wheresoe’er I may, - By night or day, - The things which I have seen I now can see no more. - - The rainbow comes and goes, - And lovely is the rose; - The moon doth with delight - Look round her when the heavens are bare; - Waters on a starry night - Are beautiful and fair; - The sunshine is a glorious birth; - But yet I know, where’er I go, - That there hath passed away a glory from the earth. - - Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song, - And while the young lambs bound - As to the tabor’s sound, - To me alone there came a thought of grief: - A timely utterance gave that thought relief, - And I again am strong. - The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep; - No more shall grief of mine the season wrong; - I hear the echoes through the mountains throng, - The winds come to me from the fields of sleep, - And all the earth is gay; - Land and sea - Give themselves up to jollity, - And with the heart of May - Doth every beast keep holiday;-- - Thou Child of Joy, - Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy! - - Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the call - Ye to each other make; I see - The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee; - My heart is at your festival, - My head hath its coronal, - The fulness of your bliss, I feel--I feel it all. - O evil day! if I were sullen - While Earth herself is adorning, - This sweet May morning, - And the children are culling - On every side, - In a thousand valleys far and wide, - - Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm, - And the babe leaps up on his mother’s arm:-- - I hear, I hear, with joy I hear! - --But there’s a tree, of many one, - A single field which I have look’d upon, - Both of them speak of something that is gone: - The pansy at my feet - Doth the same tale repeat: - Whither is fled the visionary gleam? - Where is it now, the glory and the dream? - - Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting: - The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star, - Hath had elsewhere its setting, - And cometh from afar: - Not in entire forgetfulness, - And not in utter nakedness, - But trailing clouds of glory do we come - From God, who is our home: - Heaven lies about us in our infancy! - Shades of the prison-house begin to close - Upon the growing Boy, - But he beholds the light, and whence it flows, - He sees it in his joy; - The Youth, who daily further from the east - Must travel, still is Nature’s priest, - And by the vision splendid - Is on his way attended; - At length the man perceives it die away, - And fade into the light of common day. - - * * * * * - - WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. - -(_This is only a portion of the poem, which later you should take an -opportunity of reading as a whole._) - - - - -TO AUTUMN - - - Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness! - Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun; - Conspiring with him how to load and bless - With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run; - To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees, - And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core; - To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells - With a sweet kernel; to set budding more, - And still more, later flowers for the bees, - Until they think warm days will never cease, - For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells. - - Who hath not seen Thee oft amid thy store? - Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find - Thee sitting careless on a granary floor, - Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind; - Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep, - Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook - Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers; - And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep - Steady thy laden head across a brook; - Or by a cider-press, with patient look, - Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours. - - Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they? - Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,-- - While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day, - And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue; - Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn - Among the river sallows[28], borne aloft - Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies; - And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn[29]; - Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft - The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft[30]; - And gathering swallows twitter in the skies. - - JOHN KEATS. - -[28] _sallows_: willows. - -[29] _bourn_: stream, water-course. - -[30] _croft_: enclosure. - - - - -ODE TO THE WEST WIND - - -I. - - O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being, - Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead - Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing, - - Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red, - Pestilence-stricken multitudes! O thou - Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed - - The wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and low, - Each like a corpse within its grave, until - Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow - - Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth, and fill - (Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air) - With living hues and odours plain and hill: - - Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere; - Destroyer and preserver; hear, O hear! - - -II. - - Thou on whose stream, ’mid the steep sky’s commotion, - Loose clouds like earth’s decaying leaves are shed, - Shook from the tangled boughs of heaven and ocean, - - Angels of rain and lightning! there are spread - On the blue surface of thine airy surge, - Like the bright hair uplifted from the head - - Of some fierce Maenad[31], even from the dim verge - Of the horizon to the zenith’s height, - The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge - - Of the dying year, to which this closing night - Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre, - Vaulted with all thy congregated might - - Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere - Black rain, and fire, and hail, will burst: O hear! - - -III. - - Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams - The blue Mediterranean, where he lay, - Lull’d by the coil[32] of his crystalline streams, - - Beside a pumice[33] isle in Baiae’s bay, - And saw in sleep old palaces and towers - Quivering within the wave’s intenser day, - - All overgrown with azure moss, and flowers - So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou - For whose path the Atlantic’s level powers - - Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below - The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear - The sapless foliage of the ocean, know - - Thy voice, and suddenly grow grey with fear, - And tremble and despoil themselves: O hear! - - -IV. - - If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear; - If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee; - A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share - - The impulse of thy strength, only less free - Than thou, O uncontrollable! if even - I were as in my boyhood, and could be - - The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven, - As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed - Scarce seem’d a vision--I would ne’er have striven - - As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need. - O! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud! - I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed! - - A heavy weight of years has chain’d and bow’d - One too like thee--tameless, and swift, and proud. - - -V. - - Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is: - What if my leaves are falling like its own? - The tumult of thy mighty harmonies - - Will take from both a deep autumnal tone, - Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce, - My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one! - - Drive my dead thoughts over the universe, - Like wither’d leaves, to quicken a new birth; - And, by the incantation of this verse, - - Scatter, as from an unextinguish’d hearth - Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind! - Be through my lips to unawaken’d earth - - The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind, - If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind? - - PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. - -[31] _Maenad_: a priestess of Bacchus, the wine-god. - -[32] _coil_: confused noise, murmur. - -[33] _pumice_: formed of volcanic lava. - - - - -TO A SKYLARK - - - Hail to thee, blithe spirit! - Bird thou never wert-- - That from heaven or near it - Pourest thy full heart - In profuse strains of unpremeditated art. - - Higher still and higher - From the earth thou springest - Like a cloud of fire; - The blue deep thou wingest, - And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest. - - In the golden lightning - Of the sunken sun, - O’er which clouds are bright’ning, - Thou dost float and run, - Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun. - - The pale purple even - Melts around thy flight; - Like a star of heaven, - In the broad daylight - Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight. - - Keen as are the arrows - Of that silver sphere, - Whose intense lamp narrows - In the white dawn clear, - Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there. - - All the earth and air - With thy voice is loud, - As, when night is bare, - From one lonely cloud - The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflow’d. - - What thou art we know not; - What is most like thee? - From rainbow clouds there flow not - Drops so bright to see, - As from thy presence showers a rain of melody:-- - - Like a poet hidden - In the light of thought, - Singing hymns unbidden, - Till the world is wrought - To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not: - - Like a high-born maiden - In a palace tower, - Soothing her love-laden - Soul in secret hour - With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower: - - Like a glow-worm golden - In a dell of dew, - Scattering unbeholden - Its aërial hue - Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view: - - Like a rose embower’d - In its own green leaves, - By warm winds deflower’d, - Till the scent it gives - Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-wingèd thieves: - - Sound of vernal showers - On the twinkling grass, - Rain-awaken’d flowers-- - All that ever was - Joyous and clear and fresh--thy music doth surpass. - - Teach us, sprite or bird, - What sweet thoughts are thine: - I have never heard - Praise of love or wine - That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine. - - Chorus hymeneal - Or triumphal chant, - Match’d with thine would be all - But an empty vaunt-- - A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want. - - What objects are the fountains - Of thy happy strain? - What fields, or waves, or mountains? - What shapes of sky or plain? - What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain? - - With thy clear keen joyance - Languor cannot be: - Shadow of annoyance - Never came near thee: - Thou lovest, but ne’er knew love’s sad satiety. - - Waking or asleep, - Thou of death must deem - Things more true and deep - Than we mortals dream, - Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream? - - We look before and after, - And pine for what is not: - Our sincerest laughter - With some pain is fraught; - Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought. - - Yet if we could scorn - Hate and pride and fear, - If we were things born - Not to shed a tear, - I know not how thy joy we ever should come near. - - Better than all measures - Of delightful sound, - Better than all treasures - That in books are found, - Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground! - - Teach me half the gladness - That thy brain must know; - Such harmonious madness - From my lips would flow, - The world should listen then, as I am listening now. - - PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. - - - - -THE MOON-GODDESS - - - Queen and huntress, chaste and fair, - Now the sun is laid to sleep, - Seated in thy silver chair, - State in wonted manner keep: - Hesperus entreats thy light, - Goddess excellently bright. - - Earth, let not thy envious shade - Dare itself to interpose; - Cynthia’s shining orb was made - Heaven to clear when day did close: - Bless us then with wishèd sight, - Goddess excellently bright. - - Lay thy bow of pearl apart, - And thy crystal-shining quiver; - Give unto the flying hart - Space to breathe, how short soever: - Thou that mak’st a day of night-- - Goddess excellently bright. - - BEN JONSON. - - - - -HOME-THOUGHTS FROM ABROAD - - - O, to be in England - Now that April’s there, - And whoever wakes in England - Sees, some morning, unaware, - That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf - Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf, - While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough - In England--now! - - And after April, when May follows, - And the white throat builds, and all the swallows! - Hark, where my blossom’d pear-tree in the hedge - Leans to the field and scatters on the clover - Blossoms and dewdrops--at the bent spray’s edge-- - That’s the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, - - Lest you should think he never could recapture - The first fine careless rapture! - And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, - All will be gay when noontide wakes anew - The buttercups, the little children’s dower - --Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower! - - ROBERT BROWNING. - - - - -HOME-THOUGHTS FROM THE SEA - - - Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away; - Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay; - Bluish ’mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay; - In the dimmest North-east distance dawn’d Gibraltar grand and gray; - “Here and here did England help me: how can I help England?”--say, - Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray, - While Jove’s planet rises yonder, silent over Africa. - - ROBERT BROWNING. - - - - -GREEN SEAS AND SAILOR MEN - - - - -1. _The Call of the Sea_ - - - - -YE MARINERS OF ENGLAND - - - Ye Mariners of England! - That guard our native seas; - Whose flag has braved a thousand years - The battle and the breeze! - Your glorious standard launch again - To match another foe; - And sweep through the deep, - While the stormy winds do blow! - While the battle rages loud and long, - And the stormy winds do blow. - - The spirits of your fathers - Shall start from every wave; - For the deck it was their field of fame, - And Ocean was their grave: - Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell - Your manly hearts shall glow, - As ye sweep through the deep, - While the stormy winds do blow! - While the battle rages loud and long, - And the stormy winds do blow. - - Britannia needs no bulwarks, - No towers along the steep; - Her march is o’er the mountain-waves, - Her home is on the deep. - With thunders from her native oak - She quells the floods below, - As they roar on the shore, - When the stormy winds do blow! - When the battle rages loud and long, - And the stormy winds do blow. - - The meteor flag of England - Shall yet terrific burn; - Till danger’s troubled night depart - And the star of peace return. - Then, then, ye ocean-warriors! - Our song and feast shall flow - To the fame of your name, - When the storm has ceased to blow! - When the fiery fight is heard no more, - And the storm has ceased to blow. - - THOMAS CAMPBELL. - - - - -THE SECRET OF THE SEA - - - Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me - As I gaze upon the sea! - All the old romantic legends, - All my dreams come back to me. - - Sails of silk and ropes of sendal[34], - Such as gleam in ancient lore; - And the singing of the sailors, - And the answer from the shore! - - Most of all, the Spanish ballad - Haunts me oft, and tarries long, - Of the noble Count Arnaldos - And the sailor’s mystic song. - - Telling how the Count Arnaldos, - With his hawk upon his hand, - Saw a fair and stately galley, - Steering onward to the land;-- - - How he heard the ancient helmsman - Chant a song so wild and clear, - That the sailing sea-bird slowly - Poised upon the mast to hear, - - Till his soul was full of longing, - And he cried, with impulse strong,-- - “Helmsman! for the love of heaven, - Teach me, too, that wondrous song!” - - “Wouldst thou,”--so the helmsman answered, - “Learn the secret of the sea? - Only those who brave its dangers - Comprehend its mystery!” - - In each sail that skims the horizon, - In each landward-blowing breeze, - I behold that stately galley, - Hear those mournful melodies. - - Till my soul is full of longing - For the secret of the sea, - And the heart of the great ocean - Sends a thrilling pulse through me. - - H. W. LONGFELLOW. - -[34] _sendal_: coarse narrow silken material. - - - - -A DUTCH PICTURE - - - Simon Danz has come home again, - From cruising about with his buccaneers[35]; - He has singed the beard of the King of Spain, - And carried away the Dean of Jaen, - And sold him in Algiers. - - In his house by the Maese, with its roof of tiles, - And weathercocks flying aloft in air, - There are silver tankards in antique styles, - Plunder of convent and castle, and piles - Of carpets rich and rare. - - In his tulip-garden there by the town, - Overlooking the sluggish stream, - With his Moorish cap and dressing-gown, - The old sea-captain, hale and brown, - Walks in a waking dream. - - A smile in his gray mustachio lurks - Whenever he thinks of the King of Spain, - And the listed[36] tulips look like Turks, - And the silent gardener as he works - Is changed to the Dean of Jaen[37]. - - The windmills on the outermost - Verge of the landscape in the haze, - To him are towers on the Spanish coast, - With whiskered sentinels at their post, - Though this is the river Maese. - - But when the winter rains begin, - He sits and smokes by the blazing brands, - And old seafaring men come in, - Goat-bearded, gray, and with double chin, - And rings upon their hands. - - They sit there in the shadow and shine - Of the flickering fire of the winter night; - Figures in colour and design - Like those by Rembrandt of the Rhine, - Half darkness and half light. - - And they talk of ventures lost or won, - And their talk is ever and ever the same, - While they drink the red wine of Tarragon, - From the cellars of some Spanish Don, - Or convent set on flame. - - Restless at times, with heavy strides - He paces his parlour to and fro; - He is like a ship that at anchor rides, - And swings with the rising and falling tides, - And tugs at her anchor-tow. - - Voices mysterious far and near, - Sound of the wind and sound of the sea, - Are calling and whispering in his ear, - “Simon Danz! Why stayest thou here? - Come forth and follow me!” - - So he thinks he shall take to the sea again - For one more cruise with his buccaneers, - To singe the beard of the King of Spain, - And capture another Dean of Jaen, - And sell him in Algiers. - - H. W. LONGFELLOW. - -[35] _buccaneers_: sea rovers, pirates. - -[36] _listed_: striped. - -[37] _Jaen_: a town in Spain. - - - - -SEA MEMORIES - - - Often I think of the beautiful town - That is seated by the sea; - Often in thought go up and down - The pleasant streets of that dear old town, - And my youth comes back to me. - And a verse of a Lapland song - Is haunting my memory still: - “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, - And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” - - I can see the shadowy lines of its trees, - And catch, in sudden gleams, - The sheen of the far-surrounding seas, - And islands that were the Hesperides[38] - Of all my boyish dreams. - And the burden of that old song, - It murmurs and whispers still: - “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, - And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” - - I remember the black wharves and the slips, - And the sea-tides tossing free; - And the Spanish sailors with bearded lips, - And the beauty and mystery of the ships, - And the magic of the sea. - And the voice of that wayward song - Is singing and saying still: - “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, - And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” - - H. W. LONGFELLOW. - -[38] _Hesperides_: the fabulous “Isles of the Blest” in far -western seas. - - - - -THE SEA GYPSY - - - I am fever’d with the sunset, - I am fretful with the bay, - For the wander-thirst is on me - And my soul is in Cathay. - - There’s a schooner in the offing, - With her topsails shot with fire, - And my heart has gone aboard her - For the Islands of Desire. - - I must forth again to-morrow! - With the sunset I must be - Hull down on the trail of rapture - In the wonder of the Sea. - - RICHARD HOVEY. - - - - -THE GREENWICH PENSIONER - - - ’Twas in the good ship _Rover_, - I sailed the world all round, - And for three years and over - I ne’er touched British ground; - At length in England landed, - I left the roaring main, - Found all relations stranded, - And went to sea again, - And went to sea again. - - That time bound straight for Portugal, - Right fore and aft we bore, - But when we made Cape Ortegal, - A gale blew off the shore; - She lay, so did it shock her, - A log upon the main, - Till, saved from Davy’s locker, - We put to sea again, - We put to sea again. - - Next sailing in a frigate - I got my timber toe. - I never more shall jig it - As once I used to do; - My leg was shot off fairly, - All by a ship of Spain; - But I could swab the galley, - I went to sea again, - I went to sea again. - - And still I am enabled - To bring up in the rear, - Although I’m quite disabled - And lie in Greenwich tier. - There’s schooners in the river - A riding to the chain, - But I shall never, ever - Put out to sea again, - Put out to sea again. - - From _A Sailor’s Garland_. - - - - -THE PRESS-GANG - - - Here’s the tender[39] coming, - Pressing all the men; - O, dear honey, - What shall we do then? - Here’s the tender coming, - Off at Shields Bar. - Here’s the tender coming, - Full of men of war. - - Here’s the tender coming, - Stealing of my dear; - O, dear honey, - They’ll ship you out of here, - They’ll ship you foreign, - For that is what it means. - Here’s the tender coming, - Full of red marines. - - From _A Sailor’s Garland_. - -[39] _tender_: a boat or other small vessel, that ‘attends’ a ship -with men, stores, etc. - - - - -A SEA DIRGE - - - Full fathom five thy father lies: - Of his bones are coral made; - Those are pearls that were his eyes: - Nothing of him that doth fade, - But doth suffer a sea-change - Into something rich and strange. - Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell: - Hark! now I hear them, - Ding, dong, bell. - - SHAKESPEARE. - - - - -2. _Its Lawless Joys_ - - - - -THE OLD BUCCANEER - - - Oh England is a pleasant place for them that’s rich and high, - But England is a cruel place for such poor folks as I; - And such a port for mariners I ne’er shall see again - As the pleasant Isle of Avès, beside the Spanish main. - - There were forty craft in Avès that were both swift and stout, - All furnished well with small arms and cannons round about; - And a thousand men in Avès made laws so fair and free - To choose their valiant captains and obey them loyally. - - Thence we sailed against the Spaniard with his hoards of plate - and gold, - Which he wrung with cruel tortures from Indian folk of old; - Likewise the merchant captains, with hearts as hard as stone, - Who flog men, and keel-haul them, and starve them to the bone. - - O the palms grew high in Avès, and fruits that shone like gold, - And the colibris[40] and parrots they were gorgeous to behold; - And the negro maids to Avès from bondage fast did flee, - To welcome gallant sailors, a-sweeping in from sea. - - O sweet it was in Avès to hear the landward breeze, - A-swing with good tobacco in a net between the trees, - With a negro lass to fan you, while you listened to the roar - Of the breakers on the reef outside, that never touched the shore. - - But Scripture saith, an ending to all fine things must be; - So the King’s ships sailed on Avès, and quite put down were we. - All day we fought like bulldogs, but they burst the booms at night; - And I fled in a piragua[41], sore wounded, from the fight. - - Nine days I floated starving, and a negro lass beside, - Till, for all I tried to cheer her, the poor young thing she died; - But as I lay a-gasping, a Bristol sail came by, - And brought me home to England here, to beg until I die. - - And now I’m old and going--I’m sure I can’t tell where; - One comfort is, this world’s so hard, I can’t be worse off there: - If I might but be a sea-dove, I’d fly across the main, - To the pleasant Isle of Avès, to look at it once again. - - CHARLES KINGSLEY. - -[40] _colibris_: humming-birds. - -[41] _piragua_: a “dug-out” canoe. - - - - -THE SALCOMBE SEAMAN’S FLAUNT TO THE PROUD PIRATE - - - A lofty ship from Salcombe came, - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - She had golden trucks[42] that shone like flame, - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - “Masthead, masthead,” the captains hail, - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - “Look out and round, d’ye see a sail?” - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - “There’s a ship that looms like Beachy Head,” - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - “Her banner aloft it blows out red,” - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - “Oh, ship ahoy, where do you steer?” - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - “Are you man-of-war, or privateer?” - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - “I am neither one of the two,” said she, - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - “I’m a pirate, looking for my fee,” - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - “I’m a jolly pirate, out for gold:” - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - “I will rummage through your after hold,” - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - The grumbling guns they flashed and roared, - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - Till the pirate’s masts went overboard, - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - They fired shots till the pirate’s deck, - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - Was blood and spars and broken wreck, - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - “O do not haul the red flag down,” - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - “O keep all fast until we drown,” - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - They called for cans of wine, and drank, - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - They sang their songs until she sank, - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - Now let us brew good cans of flip, - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - And drink a bowl to the Salcombe ship, - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - And drink a bowl to the lad of fame, - _Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;_ - Who put the pirate ship to shame, - _On the bonny coasts of Barbary_. - - From _A Sailor’s Garland_. - -[42] _trucks_: mast-head caps. - - - - -THE SMUGGLER - - - O my true love’s a smuggler and sails upon the sea, - And I would I were a seaman to go along with he; - To go along with he for the satins and the wine, - And run the tubs at Slapton when the stars do shine. - - O Hollands is a good drink when the nights are cold, - And Brandy is a good drink for them as grows old. - There is lights in the cliff-top when the boats are home-bound, - And we run the tubs at Slapton when the word goes round. - - The King he is a proud man in his grand red coat, - But I do love a smuggler in a little fishing-boat; - For he runs the Mallins lace and he spends his money free, - And I would I were a seaman to go along with he. - - From _A Sailor’s Garland_. - - - - -ARMS AND THE MAN - -_The generations pass, each in its turn wondering whether it is to be -the one to see the ending of War and the awakening of the common sense -of nations. But the Poetry of the glory of Battle, the hymning of high -heroisms, the dirges for those who nobly died--these will remain, to -gild its memory, long after the last echo of the last war-drum has -faded out of the world._ - - - - -THE MAID - - - Thunder of riotous hoofs over the quaking sod; - Clash of reeking squadrons, steel-capped, iron-shod; - The White Maid and the white horse, and the flapping banner of God. - - Black hearts riding for money; red hearts riding for fame; - The Maid who rides for France and the King who rides for shame-- - Gentlemen, fools, and a saint riding in Christ’s high name! - - “Dust to dust!” it is written. Wind-scattered are lance and bow. - Dust, the Cross of Saint George; dust, the banner of snow. - The bones of the King are crumbled, and rotted the shafts of the foe. - - Forgotten, the young knight’s valour; forgotten, the captain’s skill; - Forgotten, the fear and the hate and the mailed hands raised to kill; - Forgotten, the shields that clashed and the arrows that cried - so shrill. - - Like a story from some old book, that battle of long ago: - Shadows, the poor French King and the might of his English foe; - Shadows, the charging nobles and the archers kneeling a-row-- - But a flame in my heart and my eyes, the Maid with her banner of snow! - - THEODORE ROBERTS. - - - - -THE EVE OF WATERLOO - - - There was a sound of revelry by night, - And Belgium’s capital had gather’d then - Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright - The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men. - A thousand hearts beat happily; and when - Music arose with its voluptuous swell, - Soft eyes look’d love to eyes which spake again, - And all went merry as a marriage-bell; - But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell! - - Did ye not hear it?--No; ’twas but the wind, - Or the car rattling o’er the stony street; - On with the dance! let joy be unconfined; - No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet - To chase the glowing hours with flying feet. - But hark!--that heavy sound breaks in once more, - As if the clouds its echo would repeat; - And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before! - Arm! Arm! it is--it is--the cannon’s opening roar! - - Within a window’d niche of that high hall - Sate Brunswick’s fated chieftain; he did hear - That sound, the first amidst the festival, - And caught its tone with Death’s prophetic ear; - And when they smiled because he deem’d it near, - His heart more truly knew that peal too well - Which stretch’d his father on a bloody bier, - And rous’d the vengeance blood alone could quell: - He rush’d into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell. - - Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro, - And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress, - And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago - Blush’d at the praise of their own loveliness; - And there were sudden partings, such as press - The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs - Which ne’er might be repeated: who would guess - If ever more should meet those mutual eyes, - Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise! - - And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed, - The mustering squadron, and the clattering car, - Went pouring forward with impetuous speed, - And swiftly forming in the ranks of war; - And the deep thunder peal on peal afar; - And near, the beat of the alarming drum - Rous’d up the soldier ere the morning star; - While throng’d the citizens with terror dumb, - Or whispering with white lips--“The foe! they come! they come!” - - And wild and high the “Camerons’ gathering” rose, - The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn’s hills - Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes: - How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills - Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills - Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers - With the fierce native daring which instils - The stirring memory of a thousand years, - And Evan’s, Donald’s fame rings in each clansman’s ears! - - And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves, - Dewy with Nature’s tear-drops, as they pass, - Grieving, if aught inanimate e’er grieves, - Over the unreturning brave,--alas! - Ere evening to be trodden like the grass - Which now beneath them, but above shall grow - In its next verdure, when this fiery mass - Of living valour, rolling on the foe, - And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low. - - Last noon beheld them full of lusty life, - Last eve in Beauty’s circle proudly gay, - The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife, - The morn the marshalling in arms,--the day - Battle’s magnificently stern array! - The thunder-clouds close o’er it, which when rent - The earth is cover’d thick with other clay, - Which her own clay shall cover, heap’d and pent, - Rider and horse,--friend, foe,--in one red burial blent! - - LORD BYRON. - - - - -THE GLORY THAT WAS GREECE - -_I include this among the War Poems, because it is a call to a -conquered nation to rise in arms against their oppressors--a call that -was in due course answered._ - - - The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece! - Where burning Sappho loved and sung, - Where grew the arts of war and peace, - Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung! - Eternal summer gilds them yet, - But all except their sun is set. - - The Scian and the Teian[43] muse, - The hero’s harp, the lover’s lute, - Have found the fame your shores refuse: - Their place of birth alone is mute - To sounds which echo further west - Than your sires’ “Islands of the Blest.” - - The mountains look on Marathon, - And Marathon looks on the sea; - And, musing there an hour alone, - I dreamed that Greece might still be free; - For, standing on the Persian’s grave, - I could not deem myself a slave. - - A king sate on the rocky brow - Which looks o’er sea-born Salamis; - And ships by thousands lay below, - And men in nations;--all were his! - He counted them at break of day, - And when the sun set, where were they? - - And where are they? and where art thou, - My country? On thy voiceless shore - The heroic lay is tuneless now, - The heroic bosom beats no more! - And must thy lyre, so long divine, - Degenerate into hands like mine? - - ’Tis something in the dearth of fame, - Though linked among the fettered race, - To feel at least a patriot’s shame, - Even as I sing, suffuse my face; - For what is left the poet here? - For Greeks a blush--for Greece a tear! - - Must _we_ but weep o’er days more blest? - Must _we_ but blush? Our fathers bled. - Earth! render back from out thy breast - A remnant of our Spartan dead! - Of the three hundred grant but three, - To make a new Thermopylæ! - - What, silent still? and silent all? - Ah! no: the voices of the dead - Sound like a distant torrent’s fall, - And answer, “Let one living head, - But one arise,--we come, we come!” - ’Tis but the living who are dumb. - - In vain--in vain; strike other chords; - Fill high the cup with Samian wine! - Leave battles to the Turkish hordes, - And shed the blood of Scio’s vine! - Hark! rising to the ignoble call, - How answers each bold Bacchanal! - - You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet; - Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone? - Of two such lessons, why forget - The nobler and the manlier one? - You have the letters Cadmus gave; - Think ye he meant them for a slave? - - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! - We will not think of themes like these! - It made Anacreon’s song divine: - He served--but served Polycrates: - A tyrant; but our masters then - Were still, at least, our countrymen. - - The tyrant of the Chersonese - Was freedom’s best and bravest friend; - _That_ tyrant was Miltiades! - Oh that the present hour would lend - Another despot of the kind! - Such chains as his were sure to bind. - - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! - On Suli’s rock and Parga’s shore - Exists the remnant of a line - Such as the Doric mothers bore; - And there, perhaps, some seed is sown - The Heracleidan blood might own. - - Trust not for freedom to the Franks-- - They have a king who buys and sells; - In native swords and native ranks - The only hope of courage dwells: - But Turkish force and Latin fraud - Would break your shield, however broad. - - Fill high the bowl with Samian wine! - Our virgins dance beneath the shade-- - I see their glorious black eyes shine; - But, gazing on each glowing maid, - My own the burning tear-drop laves, - To think such breasts must suckle slaves. - - Place me on Sunium’s marbled steep, - Where nothing save the waves and I - May hear our mutual murmurs sweep; - There, swan-like, let me sing and die: - A land of slaves shall ne’er be mine-- - Dash down yon cup of Samian wine! - - LORD BYRON. - -[43] _Scian_ and _Teian_: i.e. Homer and Anacreon. - - - - -BATTLE HYMN OF THE AMERICAN REPUBLIC - - - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord: - He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored; - He hath loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift sword: - His truth is marching on. - - I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps; - They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps; - I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps: - His day is marching on. - - He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat; - He is sifting out the hearts of men before his Judgment Seat; - O, be swift, my soul to answer Him, be jubilant my feet! - Our God is marching on. - - In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born, across the sea, - With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me: - As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free, - While God is marching on. - - JULIA WARD HOWE. - - - - -TO LUCASTA, ON GOING TO THE WARS - - - Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind, - That from the nunnery - Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind - To war and arms I fly. - - True, a new mistress now I chase, - The first foe in the field; - And with a stronger faith embrace - A sword, a horse, a shield. - - Yet this inconstancy is such - As you too shall adore; - I could not love thee, Dear, so much, - Loved I not Honour more. - - RICHARD LOVELACE. - - - - -THE BLACK PRINCE - - - O for the voice of that wild horn, - On Fontarabian echoes borne, - The dying hero’s call, - That told imperial Charlemagne - How Paynim sons of swarthy Spain - Had wrought his champion’s fall. - - Sad over earth and ocean sounding, - And England’s distant cliffs astounding, - Such are the notes should say - How Britain’s hope, and France’s fear, - Victor of Cressy and Poitier, - In Bordeaux dying lay. - - “Raise my faint head, my squires,” he said, - “And let the casement be displayed, - That I may see once more - The splendour of the setting sun - Gleam on thy mirrored wave, Garonne, - And Blay’s empurpled shore. - - “Like me, he sinks to Glory’s sleep, - His fall the dews of evening steep, - As if in sorrow shed. - So soft shall fall the trickling tear, - When England’s maids and matrons hear - Of their Black Edward dead. - - “And though my sun of glory set, - Nor France nor England shall forget - The terror of my name; - And oft shall Britain’s heroes rise, - New planets in these southern skies, - Through clouds of blood and flame.” - - SIR WALTER SCOTT. - - - - -THE BURIAL OF SIR JOHN MOORE - - - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note, - As his corse to the rampart we hurried; - Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot - O’er the grave where our hero we buried. - - We buried him darkly at dead of night, - The sods with our bayonets turning, - By the struggling moonbeam’s misty light - And the lantern dimly burning. - - No useless coffin enclosed his breast, - Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him; - But he lay like a warrior taking his rest - With his martial cloak around him. - - Few and short were the prayers we said, - And we spoke not a word of sorrow; - But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead, - And we bitterly thought of the morrow. - - We thought, as we hollow’d his narrow bed - And smooth’d down his lonely pillow, - That the foe and the stranger would tread o’er his head, - And we far away on the billow! - - Lightly they’ll talk of the spirit that’s gone, - And o’er his cold ashes upbraid him-- - But little he’ll reck, if they let him sleep on - In the grave where a Briton has laid him. - - But half of our heavy task was done - When the clock struck the hour for retiring; - And we heard the distant and random gun - That the foe was sullenly firing. - - Slowly and sadly we laid him down, - From the field of his fame fresh and gory; - We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone, - But we left him alone with his glory. - - CHARLES WOLFE. - - - - -HOW SLEEP THE BRAVE - - - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest - By all their country’s wishes blest! - When Spring, with dewy fingers cold, - Returns to deck their hallowed mould, - She there shall dress a sweeter sod - Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod. - - By fairy hands their knell is rung; - By forms unseen their dirge is sung; - There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey, - To bless the turf that wraps their clay; - And Freedom shall awhile repair - To dwell, a weeping hermit, there! - - WILLIAM COLLINS. - - - - -SOLDIER, REST! - - - Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er, - Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking! - Dream of battled fields no more, - Days of danger, nights of waking. - In our isle’s enchanted hall, - Hands unseen thy couch are strewing, - Fairy strains of music fall, - Every sense in slumber dewing. - Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er, - Dream of fighting fields no more; - Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking, - Morn of toil, nor night of waking. - - No rude sound shall reach thine ear, - Armour’s clang, or war-steed champing - Trump nor pibroch summon here - Mustering clan, or squadron tramping. - Yet the lark’s shrill fife may come - At the daybreak from the fallow, - And the bittern sound his drum, - Booming from the sedgy shallow. - Ruder sounds shall none be near, - Guards nor warders challenge here, - Here’s no war-steed’s neigh and champing, - Shouting clans, or squadrons stamping. - - Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done; - While our slumbrous spells assail ye, - Dream not, with the rising sun, - Bugles here shall sound reveillé. - Sleep! the deer is in his den; - Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying; - Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen, - How thy gallant steed lay dying. - Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done, - Think not of the rising sun, - For at dawning to assail ye, - Here no bugles sound reveillé. - - SIR WALTER SCOTT. - - - - -THE OTHER SIDE OF IT - - - - -1. THE PATRIOT - - - It was roses, roses, all the way, - With myrtle mixed in my path like mad: - The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway, - The church-spires flamed, such flags they had, - A year ago on this very day. - - The air broke into a mist with bells, - The old walls rocked with the crowd and cries. - Had I said, “Good folk, mere noise repels-- - But give me your sun from yonder skies!” - They had answered, “And afterward, what else?” - - Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun - To give it my loving friends to keep! - Nought man could do, have I left undone: - And you see my harvest, what I reap - This very day, now a year is run. - - There’s nobody on the house-tops now-- - Just a palsied few at the windows set; - For the best of the sight is, all allow, - At the Shambles’ Gate--or, better yet, - By the very scaffold’s foot, I trow. - - I go in the rain, and, more than needs, - A rope cuts both my wrists behind; - And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds, - For they fling, whoever has a mind, - Stones at me for my year’s misdeeds. - - Thus I entered, and thus I go! - In triumphs, people have dropped down dead, - “Paid by the world, what dost thou owe - Me?”--God might question; now instead, - ’Tis God shall repay: I am safer so. - - ROBERT BROWNING. - - - - -2. FOR THOSE WHO FAIL - - - “All honour to him who shall win the prize,” - The world has cried for a thousand years; - But to him who tries and who fails and dies, - I give great honour and glory and tears. - - O great is the hero who wins a name, - But greater many and many a time - Some pale-faced fellow who dies in shame, - And lets God finish the thought sublime. - - And great is the man with a sword undrawn, - And good is the man who refrains from wine; - But the man who fails and yet fights on, - Lo he is the twin-born brother of mine! - - JOAQUIN MILLER. - - - - -3. KEEPING ON - - - Say not the struggle nought availeth, - The labour and the wounds are vain, - The enemy faints not, nor faileth, - And as things have been they remain. - - If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars; - It may be, in yon smoke concealed, - Your comrades chase e’en now the fliers, - And, but for you, possess the field. - - For while the tired waves, vainly breaking, - Seem here no painful inch to gain, - Far back, through creeks and inlets making, - Comes silent, flooding in, the main. - - And not by eastern windows only, - When daylight comes, comes in the light; - In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly! - But westward, look, the land is bright! - - A. H. CLOUGH. - - - - -STORY-POEMS - - - - -THE LADY OF SHALOTT - - -I. - - On either side the river lie - Long fields of barley and of rye, - That clothe the wold and meet the sky; - And through the field the road runs by - To many-towered Camelot; - And up and down the people go, - Gazing where the lilies blow - Round an island there below, - The island of Shalott. - - Willows whiten, aspens quiver, - Little breezes dusk and shiver - Through the wave that runs for ever - By the island in the river - Flowing down to Camelot. - Four gray walls, and four gray towers, - Overlook a space of flowers, - And the silent isle embowers - The Lady of Shalott. - - By the margin, willow-veil’d, - Slide the heavy barges trail’d - By slow horses; and unhail’d - The shallop flitteth silken-sail’d - Skimming down to Camelot: - But who has seen her wave her hand? - Or at the casement seen her stand? - Or is she known in all the land, - The Lady of Shalott? - - Only reapers, reaping early - In among the bearded barley, - Hear a song that echoes cheerly - From the river winding clearly, - Down to towered Camelot: - And by moon the reaper weary, - Piling sheaves in upland airy, - Listening, whispers, “’Tis the fairy - Lady of Shalott.” - - -II. - - There she weaves by night and day - A magic web with colours gay. - She has heard a whisper say, - A curse is on her if she stay - To look down to Camelot. - She knows not what the curse may be, - And so she weaveth steadily, - And little other care hath she, - The Lady of Shalott. - - And moving thro’ a mirror clear - That hangs before her all the year, - Shadows of the world appear. - There she sees the highway near - Winding down to Camelot: - There the river eddy whirls, - And there the surly village-churls, - And the red cloaks of market girls, - Pass onward from Shalott. - - Sometimes a troop of damsels glad, - An abbot on an ambling pad, - Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad, - Or long-hair’d page in crimson clad, - Goes by to tower’d Camelot: - And sometimes through the mirror blue - The knights come riding two and two: - She hath no loyal knight and true, - The Lady of Shalott. - - But in her web she still delights - To weave the mirror’s magic sights, - For often through the silent nights - A funeral, with plumes and lights - And music, went to Camelot: - Or, when the moon was overhead, - Came two young lovers lately wed; - “I am half sick of shadows,” said - The Lady of Shalott. - - -III. - - A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, - He rode between the barley-sheaves, - The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves, - And flamed upon the brazen greaves[44] - Of bold Sir Lancelot. - A red-cross knight for ever kneel’d - To a lady in his shield, - That sparkled on the yellow field - Beside remote Shalott. - - The gemmy bridle glitter’d free, - Like to some branch of stars we see - Hung in the golden Galaxy[45]. - The bridle bells rang merrily - As he rode down to Camelot: - And from his blazon’d baldric[46] slung - A mighty silver bugle hung, - And as he rode his armour rung, - Beside remote Shalott. - - All in the blue unclouded weather - Thick-jewell’d shone the saddle-leather, - The helmet and the helmet-feather - Burn’d like one burning flame together, - As he rode down to Camelot. - As often thro’ the purple night, - Below the starry clusters bright, - Some bearded meteor, trailing light, - Moves over still Shalott. - - His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d; - On burnish’d hooves his war-horse trode; - From underneath his helmet flow’d - His coal-black curls as on he rode, - As he rode down to Camelot. - From the bank and from the river - He flash’d into the crystal mirror, - “Tirra lirra,” by the river - Sang Sir Lancelot. - - She left the web, she left the loom, - She made three paces thro’ the room, - She saw the water-lily bloom, - She saw the helmet and the plume, - She look’d down to Camelot. - Out flew the web and floated wide; - The mirror crack’d from side to side; - “The curse is come upon me,” cried - The Lady of Shalott. - - -IV. - - In the stormy east-wind straining, - The pale yellow woods were waning, - The broad stream in his banks complaining, - Heavily the low sky raining - Over tower’d Camelot; - Down she came and found a boat - Beneath a willow left afloat, - And round about the prow she wrote - _The Lady of Shalott_. - - And down the river’s dim expanse-- - Like some bold seer in a trance, - Seeing all his own mischance-- - With a glassy countenance - Did she look to Camelot. - And at the closing of the day - She loosed the chain and down she lay; - The broad stream bore her far away, - The Lady of Shalott. - - Lying, robed in snowy white - That loosely flew to left and right-- - The leaves upon her falling light-- - Thro’ the noises of the night - She floated down to Camelot: - And as the boat-head wound along - The willowy hills and fields among, - They heard her singing her last song, - The Lady of Shalott. - - Heard a carol, mournful, holy, - Chanted loudly, chanted lowly, - Till her blood was frozen slowly, - And her eyes were darken’d wholly, - Turn’d to tower’d Camelot. - For ere she reached upon the tide - The first house by the water-side, - Singing in her song she died, - The Lady of Shalott. - - Under tower and balcony, - By garden-wall and gallery, - A gleaming shape she floated by, - Dead-pale between the houses high, - Silent into Camelot. - Out upon the wharfs they came, - Knight and burgher[47], lord and dame, - And round the prow they read her name, - _The Lady of Shalott_. - - Who is this? and what is here? - And in the lighted palace near - Died the sound of royal cheer; - And they cross’d themselves for fear - All the knights at Camelot: - But Lancelot mused a little space; - He said, “She has a lovely face; - God in his mercy lend her grace, - The Lady of Shalott.” - - ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. - -[44] _greaves_: leg-armour below the knee. - -[45] _galaxy_: the “Milky Way.” - -[46] _blazon’d baldric_: a broad shoulder-belt painted -heraldically. - -[47] _burgher_: citizen. - - - - -THE FORSAKEN MERMAN - - - Come, dear children, let us away; - Down and away below. - Now my brothers call from the bay; - Now the great winds shoreward blow; - Now the salt tides seaward flow; - Now the wild white horses play, - Champ and chafe and toss in the spray. - Children dear, let us away. - This way, this way! - - Call her once before you go-- - Call once yet! - In a voice that she will know: - “Margaret! Margaret!” - Children’s voices should be dear - (Call once more) to a mother’s ear; - Children’s voices, wild with pain-- - Surely she will come again! - Call her once and come away. - This way, this way! - “Mother dear, we cannot stay!” - The wild white horses foam and fret. - Margaret! Margaret! - - Come, dear children, come away down. - Call no more. - One last look at the white-wall’d town, - And the little grey church on the windy shore. - Then come down. - She will not come though you call all day. - Come away, come away! - - Children dear, was it yesterday - We heard the sweet bells over the bay? - In the caverns where we lay, - Through the surf and through the swell, - The far-off sound of a silver bell? - Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep, - Where the winds are all asleep; - Where the spent lights quiver and gleam; - Where the salt weed sways in the stream; - Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round, - Feed in the ooze of their pasture-ground; - Where the sea-snakes coil and twine, - Dry their mail and bask in the brine; - Where great whales come sailing by, - Sail and sail, with unshut eye, - Round the world for ever and aye? - When did music come this way? - Children dear, was it yesterday? - - Children dear, was it yesterday - (Call yet once) that she went away? - Once she sate with you and me, - On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea, - And the youngest sate on her knee. - She combed its bright hair, and she tended it well, - When down swung the sound of a far-off bell. - She sigh’d, she look’d up through the clear green sea; - She said: “I must go, for my kinsfolk pray - In the little grey church on the shore to-day, - ’Twill be Easter-time in the world--ah me! - And I lose my poor soul, Merman, here with thee.” - I said, “Go up, dear heart, through the waves; - Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves.” - She smiled, she went up through the surf in the bay. - Children dear, was it yesterday? - - Children dear, were we long alone? - “The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan. - Long prayers,” I said, “in the world they say. - Come!” I said, and we rose through the surf in the bay. - We went up the beach, by the sandy down - Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-walled town. - Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still, - To the little grey church on the windy hill. - From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers, - But we stood without in the cold blowing airs. - We climb’d on the graves, on the stones worn with rains, - And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes. - She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear: - “Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here! - Dear heart,” I said, “we are long alone. - The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.” - But, ah! she gave me never a look, - For her eyes were sealed to the holy book. - Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door. - Come away, children, call no more. - Come away, come down, call no more. - - Down, down, down, - Down to the depths of the sea! - She sits at her wheel in the humming town, - Singing most joyfully. - Hark what she sings: “O joy, O joy, - For the humming street, and the child with its toy! - For the priest, and the bell, and the holy well; - For the wheel where I spun, - And the blessèd light of the sun!” - And so she sings her fill. - Singing most joyfully, - Till the spindle drops from her hand, - And the whizzing wheel stands still. - She steals to the window and looks at the sand, - And over the sand at the sea; - And her eyes are set in a stare; - And anon there breaks a sigh, - And anon there drops a tear, - From a sorrow-clouded eye, - And a heart sorrow-laden, - A long, long sigh - For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden - And the gleam of her golden hair. - - Come away, away, children! - Come children, come down! - The hoarse wind blows coldly; - Lights shine in the town. - She will start from her slumber - When gusts shake the door; - She will hear the winds howling, - Will hear the waves roar. - We shall see, while above us - The waves roar and whirl, - A ceiling of amber, - A pavement of pearl. - Singing: “Here came a mortal, - But faithless was she: - And alone dwell for ever - The kings of the sea.” - - But, children, at midnight, - When soft the winds blow, - When clear falls the moonlight, - When spring-tides are low: - When sweet airs come seaward - From heaths starr’d with broom; - And high rocks throw mildly - On the blanch’d sands a gloom: - Up the still, glistening beaches, - Up the creeks we will hie, - Over banks of bright seaweed - The ebb-tide leaves dry. - We will gaze, from the sand-hills, - At the white, sleeping town; - At the church on the hill-side-- - And then come back down. - Singing: “There dwells a loved one, - But cruel is she. - She left lonely for ever - The kings of the sea.” - - MATTHEW ARNOLD. - - - - -THE LEGEND BEAUTIFUL - - - “Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled!” - That is what the Vision said. - - In his chamber all alone, - Kneeling on the floor of stone, - Prayed the Monk in deep contrition - For his sins of indecision, - Prayed for greater self-denial - In temptation and in trial; - It was noonday by the dial, - And the Monk was all alone. - - Suddenly, as if it lighten’d, - An unwonted splendour brighten’d - All within him and without him - In that narrow cell of stone; - And he saw the Blessed Vision - Of our Lord, with light Elysian[48] - Like a vesture wrapped about him, - Like a garment round him thrown. - - Not as crucified and slain, - Not in agonies of pain, - Not with bleeding hands and feet, - Did the Monk his Master see; - But as in the village street, - In the house or harvest-field, - Halt and lame and blind he healed, - When he walked in Galilee. - - In an attitude imploring, - Hands upon his bosom crossed, - Wondering, worshipping, adoring, - Knelt the Monk in rapture lost. - Lord, he thought, in heaven that reignest, - Who am I, that thus thou deignest - To reveal thyself to me? - Who am I, that from the centre - Of thy glory thou shouldst enter - This poor cell, my guest to be? - - Then amid his exaltation, - Loud the convent bell appalling, - From its belfry calling, calling, - Rang through court and corridor - With persistent iteration - He had never heard before. - It was now the appointed hour - When alike in sun or shower, - Winter’s cold or summer’s heat, - To the convent portals came - All the blind and halt and lame, - All the beggars of the street, - For their daily dole of food - Dealt them by the brotherhood; - And their almoner[49] was he - Who upon his bended knee, - Rapt in silent ecstasy - Of divinest self-surrender, - Saw the Vision and the Splendour. - - Deep distress and hesitation - Mingled with his adoration; - Should he go or should he stay? - Should he leave the poor to wait - Hungry at the convent gate, - Till the Vision passed away? - Should he slight his radiant guest, - Slight his visitant celestial, - For a crowd of ragged, bestial - Beggars at the convent gate? - Would the Vision there remain? - Would the Vision come again? - - Then a voice within his breast - Whispered, audible and clear, - As if to the outward ear: - “Do thy duty; that is best; - Leave unto thy Lord the rest!” - Straightway to his feet he started, - And with longing look intent - On the Blessed Vision bent, - Slowly from his cell departed, - Slowly on his errand went. - - At the gate the poor were waiting, - Looking through the iron grating, - With that terror in the eye - That is only seen in those - Who amid their wants and woes - Hear the sound of doors that close, - And of feet that pass them by; - Grown familiar with disfavour, - Grown familiar with the savour - Of the bread by which men die! - But to-day, they knew not why, - Like the gate of Paradise - Seemed the convent gate to rise, - Like a sacrament divine - Seemed to them the bread and wine. - In his heart the Monk was praying, - Thinking of the homeless poor, - What they suffer and endure; - What we see not, what we see; - And the inward voice was saying: - “Whatsoever thing thou doest - To the least of mine and lowest, - That thou doest unto me!” - - Unto me! but had the Vision - Come to him in beggar’s clothing, - Come a mendicant imploring, - Would he then have knelt adoring, - Or have listened with derision, - And have turned away with loathing? - - Thus his conscience put the question, - Full of troublesome suggestion, - As at length, with hurried pace, - Towards his cell he turned his face, - And beheld the convent bright - With a supernatural light, - Like a luminous cloud expanding - Over floor and wall and ceiling. - - But he paused with awe-struck feeling - At the threshold of his door, - For the Vision still was standing - As he left it there before, - When the convent bell appalling, - From its belfry calling, calling, - Summoned him to feed the poor. - - Through the long hour intervening - It had waited his return, - And he felt his bosom burn, - Comprehending all the meaning, - When the Blessed Vision said, - “Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled!” - - H. W. LONGFELLOW. - -[48] _Elysian_: heavenly. - -[49] _almoner_: giver of alms or charity. - - - - -ABOU BEN ADHEM - - - Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) - Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace, - And saw, within the moonlight in his room, - Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom, - An angel writing in a book of gold:-- - Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold, - And to the presence in the room he said, - “What writest thou?”--The vision rais’d its head, - And with a look made all of sweet accord, - Answer’d, “The names of those that love the Lord.” - “And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,” - Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low, - But cheerly still; and said, “I pray thee, then, - Write me as one that loves his fellow men.” - - The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night - It came again with a great wakening light, - And show’d the names whom love of God had blest, - And lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest. - - LEIGH HUNT. - - - - -THE SANDS OF DEE - - - “O Mary, go and call the cattle home, - And call the cattle home, - And call the cattle home, - Across the sands of Dee”; - The western wind was wild and dank with foam, - And all alone went she. - - The western tide crept up along the sand, - And o’er and o’er the sand, - And round and round the sand, - As far as eye could see. - The rolling mist came down and hid the land: - And never home came she. - - “O is it weed, or fish, or floating hair-- - A tress of golden hair, - A drownèd maiden’s hair, - Above the nets at sea?” - Was never salmon yet that shone so fair - Among the stakes of Dee. - - They rowed her in across the rolling foam, - The cruel crawling foam, - The cruel hungry foam, - To her grave beside the sea. - But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home, - Across the sands of Dee. - - CHARLES KINGSLEY. - - - - -LOCHINVAR - - - O young Lochinvar is come out of the west, - Through all the wide Border his steed was the best, - And save his good broad-sword he weapons had none; - He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone. - So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war, - There never was knight like the young Lochinvar. - - He stay’d not for brake, and he stopp’d not for stone, - He swam the Esk river where ford there was none; - But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate, - The bride had consented, the gallant came late: - For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war, - Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar. - - So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall, - Among bride’s-men and kinsmen, and brothers and all: - Then spoke the bride’s father, his hand on his sword - (For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word), - “O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war, - Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?” - - “I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied:-- - Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide-- - And now I am come, with this lost love of mine - To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine. - There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far, - That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.” - - The bride kiss’d the goblet; the knight took it up, - He quaff’d off the wine, and he threw down the cup; - She look’d down to blush, and she look’d up to sigh, - With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye. - He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,-- - “Now tread we a measure!” said young Lochinvar. - - So stately his form, and so lovely her face, - That never a hall such a galliard[50] did grace; - While her mother did fret, and her father did fume, - And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume; - And the bride-maidens whisper’d, “’Twere better by far - To have match’d our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.” - - One touch to her hand and one word in her ear, - When they reach’d the hall door and the charger stood near; - So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung, - So light to the saddle before her he sprung! - “She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur[51]; - They’ll have fleet steeds that follow,” quoth young Lochinvar. - - There was mounting ’mong Graemes of the Netherby clan; - Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran: - There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee, - But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see. - So daring in love, and so dauntless in war, - Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar? - - SIR WALTER SCOTT. - -[50] _galliard_: a gay dance. - -[51] _scaur_: a steep bank. - - - - -DAY-DREAMS - - -_This section will appeal to girls rather than to boys. And yet -day-dreams are no bad things for either sex--just now and again, as a -getting away from realities._ - - - - -DREAMS TO SELL - - - If there were dreams to sell, - What would you buy? - Some cost a passing bell; - Some a light sigh, - That shakes from Life’s fresh crown - Only a rose-leaf down. - If there were dreams to sell, - Merry and sad to tell, - And the crier rang the bell, - What would you buy? - - A cottage lone and still, - With bowers nigh, - Shadowy, my woes to still, - Until I die. - Such pearl from Life’s fresh crown - Fain would I shake me down. - Were dreams to have at will, - This would best heal my ill, - This would I buy. - - T. L. BEDDOES. - - - - -THE LOST BOWER - - - In the pleasant orchard closes, - “God bless all our gains,” say we; - But “May God bless all our losses,” - Better suits with our degree.-- - Listen gentle--ay, and simple! Listen children on the knee! - - Green the land is where my daily - Steps in jocund childhood played-- - Dimpled close with hill and valley, - Dappled very close with shade; - Summer-snow of apple blossoms, running up from glade to glade. - - There is one hill I see nearer, - In my vision of the rest; - And a little wood seems clearer, - As it climbeth from the west, - Sideway from the tree-locked valley, to the airy upland crest. - - Small the wood is, green with hazels, - And, completing the ascent, - Where the wind blows and sun dazzles, - Thrills in leafy tremblement: - Like a heart that, after climbing, beateth quickly through content. - - Not a step the wood advances - O’er the open hill-top’s bound: - There, in green arrest, the branches - See their image on the ground: - You may walk between them smiling, glad with sight and glad with - sound. - - For you hearken on your right hand, - How the birds do leap and call - In the greenwood, out of sight and - Out of reach and fear of all; - And the squirrels crack the filberts, through their cheerful madrigal. - - On your left, the sheep are cropping - The slant grass and daisies pale; - And five apple-trees stand, dropping - Separate shadows toward the vale, - Over which, in choral silence, the hills look you their “All hail!” - - Yet in childhood little prized I - That fair walk and far survey: - ’Twas a straight walk, unadvised by - The least mischief worth a nay-- - Up and down--as dull as grammar on an eve of holiday! - - But the wood, all close and clenching - Bough in bough and root in root,-- - No more sky (for over-branching) - At your head than at your foot,-- - Oh, the wood drew me within it, by a glamour past dispute. - - Few and broken paths showed through it, - Where the sheep had tried to run,-- - Forced with snowy wool to strew it - Round the thickets, when anon - They with silly thorn-pricked noses bleated back into the sun. - - But my childish heart beat stronger - Than those thickets dared to grow: - _I_ could pierce them! _I_ could longer - Travel on, methought, than so! - Sheep for sheep-paths! braver children climb and creep where they - would go. - - On a day, such pastime keeping, - With a fawn’s heart debonair, - Under-crawling, overleaping - Thorns that prick and boughs that bear, - I stood suddenly astonished--I was gladdened unaware! - - From the place I stood in, floated - Back the covert dim and close; - And the open ground was suited - Carpet-smooth with grass and moss, - And the blue-bell’s purple presence signed it worthily across. - - ’Twas a bower for garden fitter, - Than for any woodland wide! - Though a fresh and dewy glitter - Struck it through, from side to side, - Shaped and shaven was the freshness, as by garden-cunning plied. - - Rose-trees, either side the door, were - Growing lithe and growing tall; - Each one set a summer warder - For the keeping of the hall,-- - With a red rose, and a white rose, leaning, nodding at the wall. - - As I entered--mosses hushing - Stole all noises from my foot: - And a round elastic cushion, - Clasped within the linden’s root, - Took me in a chair of silence, very rare and absolute. - - So, young muser, I sat listening - To my Fancy’s wildest word-- - On a sudden, through the glistening - Leaves around, a little stirred, - Came a sound, a sense of music, which was rather felt than heard. - - Softly, finely, it inwound me-- - From the world it shut me in,-- - Like a fountain falling round me, - Which with silver waters thin - Clips a little marble Naiad, sitting smilingly within. - - Whence the music came, who knoweth? - _I_ know nothing. But indeed - Pan or Faunus never bloweth - So much sweetness from a reed - Which has sucked the milk of waters, at the oldest river-head. - - Never lark the sun can waken - With such sweetness! when the lark, - The high planets overtaking - In the half-evanished Dark, - Casts his singing to their singing, like an arrow to the mark. - - Never nightingale so singeth-- - Oh! she leans on thorny tree, - And her poet-soul she flingeth - Over pain to victory! - Yet she never sings such music,--or she sings it not to me! - - Never blackbirds, never thrushes, - Nor small finches sing as sweet, - When the sun strikes through the bushes - To their crimson clinging feet, - And their pretty eyes look sideways to the summer heavens complete. - - In a child-abstraction lifted, - Straightway from the bower I passed; - Foot and soul being dimly drifted - Through the greenwood, till, at last, - In the hill-top’s open sunshine, I all consciously was cast. - - And I said within me, laughing, - I have found a bower to-day, - A green lusus[52]--fashioned half in - Chance, and half in Nature’s play-- - And a little bird sings nigh it, I will never more missay. - - Henceforth, _I_ will be the fairy - Of this bower, not built by one; - I will go there, sad or merry, - With each morning’s benison; - And the bird shall be my harper in the dream-hall I have won. - - So I said. But the next morning, - (--Child, look up into my face-- - ’Ware, O sceptic, of your scorning! - This is truth in its pure grace;) - The next morning, all had vanished, or my wandering missed the place. - - Day by day, with new desire, - Toward my wood I ran in faith-- - Under leaf and over brier-- - Through the thickets, out of breath-- - Like the prince who rescued Beauty from the sleep as long as death. - - But his sword of mettle clashèd, - And his arm smote strong, I ween; - And her dreaming spirit flashèd - Through her body’s fair white screen, - And the light thereof might guide him up the cedarn alleys green. - - But for me, I saw no splendour-- - All my sword was my child-heart; - And the wood refused surrender - Of that bower it held apart, - Safe as Œdipus’s grave-place, ’mid Colone’s olives swart. - - I have lost--oh many a pleasure-- - Many a hope, and many a power-- - Studious health and merry leisure-- - The first dew on the first flower! - But the first of all my losses was the losing of the bower. - - All my losses did I tell you, - Ye, perchance, would look away;-- - Ye would answer me, “Farewell! you - Make sad company to-day; - And your tears are falling faster than the bitter words you say.” - - For God placed me like a dial - In the open ground, with power; - And my heart had for its trial, - All the sun and all the shower! - And I suffered many losses; and my first was of the bower. - - ELIZABETH BARRETT BROWNING. - -[52] _lusus_: a sport, a freak. - - - - -ECHO AND THE FERRY - - - Ay, Oliver! I was but seven, and he was eleven; - He looked at me pouting and rosy. I blushed where I stood. - They had told us to play in the orchard (and I only seven! - A small guest at the farm); but he said, “Oh, a girl was no good,” - So he whistled and went, he went over the stile to the wood. - It was sad, it was sorrowful! Only a girl--only seven! - At home in the dark London smoke I had not found it out. - The pear trees looked on in their white, and blue birds flashed - about; - And they too were angry as Oliver. Were they eleven? - I thought so. Yes, every one else was eleven--eleven! - - So Oliver went, but the cowslips were tall at my feet, - And all the white orchard with fast-falling blossom was littered, - And under and over the branches those little birds twittered, - While hanging head downwards they scolded because I was seven. - A pity. A very great pity. One should be eleven. - But soon I was happy, the smell of the world was so sweet. - And I saw a round hole in an apple-tree rosy and old. - Then I knew! for I peeped, and I felt it was right they should - scold! - Eggs small and eggs many. For gladness I broke into laughter; - And then some one else--oh, how softly! came after, came after - With laughter--with laughter came after. - - So this was the country; clear dazzle of azure and shiver - And whisper of leaves, and a humming all over the tall - White branches, a humming of bees. And I came to the wall-- - A little low wall--and looked over, and there was the river, - The lane that led on to the village, and then the sweet river. - Clear-shining and slow, she had far far to go from her snow; - But each rush gleamed a sword in the sunlight to guard her long - flow, - And she murmured methought, with a speech very soft, very low-- - “The ways will be long, but the days will be long,” quoth the - river, - “To me a long liver, long, long!” quoth the river--the river. - - I dreamed of the country that night, of the orchard, the sky, - The voice that had mocked coming after and over and under. - But at last--in a day or two namely--Eleven and I - Were very fast friends, and to him I confided the wonder. - He said that was Echo. “Was Echo a wise kind of bee - That had learned how to laugh: could it laugh in one’s ear and then - fly, - And laugh again yonder?” “No; Echo”--he whispered it low-- - “Was a woman, they said, but a woman whom no one could see - And no one could find; and he did not believe it, not he, - But he could not get near for the river that held us asunder. - Yet I that had money--a shilling, a whole silver shilling-- - We might cross if I thought I would spend it.” “Oh yes, I was - willing”-- - And we ran hand in hand, we ran down to the ferry, the ferry, - And we heard how she mocked at the folk with a voice clear and merry - When they called for the ferry; but oh! she was very--was very - Swift-footed. She spoke and was gone; and when Oliver cried, - “Hie over! hie over! you man of the ferry--the ferry!” - By the still water’s side she was heard far and wide--she replied, - And she mocked in her voice sweet and merry “You man of the ferry, - You man of--you man of the ferry!” - - “Hie over!” he shouted. The ferryman came at his calling, - Across the clear reed-bordered river he ferried us fast;-- - Such a chase! Hand in hand, foot to foot, we ran on; it surpassed - All measure her doubling--so close, then so far away falling, - Then gone, and no more. Oh! to see her but once unaware, - And the mouth that had mocked, but we might not (yet sure she was - there!) - Nor behold her wild eyes and her mystical countenance fair. - - We sought in the wood, and we found the wood-wren in her stead; - In the field, and we found but the cuckoo that talked overhead; - By the brook, and we found the reed-sparrow deep-nested, in brown-- - Not Echo, fair Echo! for Echo, sweet Echo! was flown. - - So we came to the place where the dead people wait till God call. - The church was among them, grey moss over roof, over wall. - Very silent, so low. And we stood on a green grassy mound - And looked in at a window, for Echo, perhaps, in her round - Might have come in to hide there. But no; every oak carven seat - Was empty. We saw the great Bible--old, old, very old, - And the parson’s great Prayer-book beside it; we heard the slow beat - Of the pendulum swing in the tower; we saw the clear gold - Of a sunbeam float down to the aisle and then waver and play - On the low chancel step and the railing, and Oliver said, - “Look, Katie! Look, Katie! when Lettice came here to be wed - She stood where that sunbeam drops down, and all white was her gown; - And she stepped upon flowers they strewed for her.” Then quoth small - Seven, - “Shall I wear a white gown and have flowers to walk upon ever?” - - All doubtful: “It takes a long time to grow up,” quoth Eleven; - “You’re so little, you know, and the church is so old, it can never - Last on till you’re tall.” And in whispers--because it was old, - And holy, and fraught with strange meaning, half felt, but not told, - Full of old parsons’ prayers, who were dead, of old days, of old folk - Neither heard nor beheld, but about us, in whispers we spoke. - Then we went from it softly, and ran hand in hand to the strand, - While bleating of flocks and birds piping made sweeter the land, - And Echo came back e’en as Oliver drew to the ferry, - “O Katie!” “O Katie!” “Come on, then!” “Come on, then!” “For, see, - The round sun, all red, lying low by the tree”--“by the tree.” - “By the tree.” Ay, she mocked him again, with her voice sweet and - merry: - “Hie over!” “Hie over!” “You man of the ferry”--“the ferry.” - “You man of the ferry--you man of--you man of--the ferry.” - - Ay, here--it was here that we woke her, the Echo of old; - All life of that day seems an echo, and many times told. - Shall I cross by the ferry to-morrow, and come in my white - To that little old church? and will Oliver meet me anon? - Will it all seem an echo from childhood passed over--passed on? - Will the grave parson bless us? Hark, hark! in the dim failing light - I hear her! As then the child’s voice clear and high, sweet and merry - Now she mocks the man’s tone with “Hie over! Hie over the ferry!” - “And Katie.” “And Katie.” “Art out with the glowworms to-night, - My Katie?” “My Katie.” For gladness I break into laughter - And tears. Then it all comes again as from far-away years; - Again, some one else--Oh, how softly!--with laughter comes after, - Comes after--with laughter comes after. - - JEAN INGELOW. - - - - -POOR SUSAN’S DREAM - - - At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears, - Hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years: - Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard - In the silence of morning the song of the bird. - - ’Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees - A mountain ascending, a vision of trees; - Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide, - And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside. - - Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale - Down which she so often has tripp’d with her pail; - And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove’s, - The one only dwelling on earth that she loves. - - She looks, and her heart is in heaven: but they fade, - The mist and the river, the hill and the shade; - The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise, - And the colours have all passed away from her eyes! - - WILLIAM WORDSWORTH. - - - - -FANCY - - - Tell me where is Fancy bred, - Or in the heart or in the head? - How begot, how nourishèd? - Reply, reply. - It is engender’d in the eyes, - With gazing fed; and Fancy dies - In the cradle where it lies. - Let us all ring Fancy’s knell: - I’ll begin it,--Ding, dong, bell. - Ding, dong, bell. - - SHAKESPEARE. - - - - -TWO HOME-COMINGS - - - - -1. THE GOOD WOMAN MADE WELCOME IN HEAVEN - - - Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee, - Glad at their own home now to meet thee. - All thy good works which went before, - And waited for thee at the door, - Shall own thee there; and all in one - Weave a constellation - Of crowns, with which the King, thy spouse, - Shall build up thy triumphant brows. - All thy old woes shall now smile on thee, - And thy pains sit bright upon thee: - All thy sorrows here shall shine, - And thy sufferings be divine. - Tears shall take comfort, and turn gems, - And wrongs repent to diadems. - Even thy deaths shall live, and new - Dress the soul which late they slew. - Thy wounds shall blush to such bright scars - As keep account of the Lamb’s wars. - - RICHARD CRASHAW. - - - - -2. THE SOLDIER RELIEVED - - - I’d like now, yet had haply been afraid, - To have just looked, when this man came to die, - And seen who lined the clean gay garret sides, - And stood about the neat low truckle-bed, - With the heavenly manner of relieving guard. - Here had been, mark, the general-in-chief, - Thro’ a whole campaign of the world’s life and death, - Doing the King’s work all the dim day long, - In his old coat and up to knees in mud, - Smoked like a herring, dining on a crust,-- - And, now the day was won, relieved at once! - No further show or need of that old coat, - You are sure, for one thing! Bless us, all the while - How sprucely we are dressed out, you and I! - A second, and the angels alter that. - - ROBERT BROWNING. - - - - -WHEN KNIGHTS WERE BOLD - - - - -HUNTING SONG - - - Waken, lords and ladies gay, - On the mountain dawns the day, - All the jolly chase is here, - With horse, and hawk, and hunting spear! - Hounds are in their couples yelling, - Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling[53]. - Merrily, merrily, mingle they, - “Waken, lords and ladies gay.” - - Waken, lords and ladies gay, - The mist has left the mountain grey, - Springlets in the dawn are steaming, - Diamonds on the brake[54] are gleaming, - And foresters have busy been - To track the buck in thicket green; - Now we come to chant our lay, - “Waken, lords and ladies gay.” - - Waken, lords and ladies gay, - To the greenwood haste away; - We can show you where he lies, - Fleet of foot, and tall of size; - We can show the marks he made - When ’gainst the oak his antlers[55] frayed; - You shall see him brought to bay; - “Waken, lords and ladies gay.” - - Louder, louder chant the lay, - Waken, lords and ladies gay! - Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee, - Run a course as well as we; - Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk, - Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk? - Think of this, and rise with day, - Gentle lords and ladies gay! - - SIR WALTER SCOTT. - -[53] _knelling_: sounding like a bell. - -[54] _brake_: fern, bracken. - -[55] _antlers_: horns. - - - - -THE RIDING TO THE TOURNAMENT - - - Over meadows purple-flowered, - Through the dark lanes oak-embowered, - Over commons dry and brown, - Through the silent red-roofed town, - Past the reapers and the sheaves, - Over white roads strewn with leaves, - By the gipsy’s ragged tent, - Rode we to the Tournament. - - Over clover wet with dew, - Whence the sky-lark, startled, flew, - Through brown fallows, where the hare - Leapt up from its subtle lair, - Past the mill-stream and the reeds - Where the stately heron feeds, - By the warren’s sunny wall, - Where the dry leaves shake and fall, - By the hall’s ancestral trees, - Bent and writhing in the breeze, - Rode we all with one intent, - Gaily to the Tournament. - - Golden sparkles, flashing gem, - Lit the robes of each of them, - Cloak of velvet, robe of silk, - Mantle snowy-white as milk, - Rings upon our bridle-hand, - Jewels on our belt and band, - Bells upon our golden reins, - Tinkling spurs and shining chains-- - In such merry mob we went - Riding to the Tournament. - - Laughing voices, scraps of song, - Lusty music loud and strong, - Rustling of the banners blowing, - Whispers as of rivers flowing. - Whistle of the hawks we bore - As they rise and as they soar, - Now and then a clash of drums - As the rabble louder hums, - Now and then a burst of horns - Sounding over brooks and bourns, - As in merry guise we went - Riding to the Tournament. - - There were abbots fat and sleek, - Nuns in couples, pale and meek, - Jugglers tossing cups and knives, - Yeomen with their buxom wives, - Pages playing with the curls - Of the rosy village girls, - Grizzly knights with faces scarred, - Staring through their vizors barred, - Huntsmen cheering with a shout - At the wild stag breaking out, - Harper, stately as a king, - Touching now and then a string, - As our revel laughing went - To the solemn Tournament. - - Charger with the massy chest, - Foam-spots flecking mane and breast, - Pacing stately, pawing ground, - Fretting for the trumpet’s sound, - White and sorrel, roan and bay, - Dappled, spotted, black, and grey, - Palfreys snowy as the dawn, - Ponies sallow as the fawn, - All together neighing went - Trampling to the Tournament. - - Long hair scattered in the wind, - Curls that flew a yard behind, - Flags that struggled like a bird - Chained and restive--not a word - But half buried in a laugh; - And the lance’s gilded staff - Shaking when the bearer shook - At the jester’s merry look, - As he grins upon his mule, - Like an urchin leaving school, - Shaking bauble, tossing bells, - At the merry jest he tells,-- - So in happy mood we went, - Laughing to the Tournament. - - What a bustle at the inn, - What a stir, without--within; - Filling flagons, brimming bowls - For a hundred thirsty souls; - Froth in snow-flakes flowing down, - From the pitcher big and brown, - While the tankards brim and bubble - With the balm for human trouble; - How the maiden coyly sips, - How the yeoman wipes his lips, - How the old knight drains the cup - Slowly and with calmness up, - And the abbot, with a prayer, - Fills the silver goblet rare, - Praying to the saints for strength - As he holds it at arm’s length; - How the jester spins the bowl - On his thumb, then quaffs the whole; - How the pompous steward bends - And bows to half-a-dozen friends, - As in a thirsty mood we went - Duly to the Tournament. - - Then again the country over - Through the stubble and the clover, - By the crystal-dropping springs, - Where the road dust clogs and clings - To the pearl-leaf of the rose, - Where the tawdry nightshade blows, - And the bramble twines its chains - Through the sunny village lanes, - Where the thistle sheds its seed, - And the goldfinch loves to feed, - By the milestone green with moss, - By the broken wayside cross, - In a merry band we went - Shouting to the Tournament. - - Pilgrims with their hood and cowl, - Pursy burghers cheek by jowl, - Archers with their peacock’s wing - Fitting to the waxen string, - Pedlars with their pack and bags, - Beggars with their coloured rags, - Silent monks, whose stony eyes - Rest in trance upon the skies, - Children sleeping at the breast, - Merchants from the distant West, - All in gay confusion went - To the royal Tournament. - - Players with the painted face - And a drunken man’s grimace, - Grooms who praise their raw-boned steeds, - Old wives telling maple beads,-- - Blackbirds from the hedges broke, - Black crows from the beeches croak, - Glossy swallows in dismay - From the mill-stream fled away, - The angry swan, with ruffled breast, - Frowned upon her osier nest, - The wren hopped restless on the brake, - The otter made the sedges shake, - The butterfly before our rout - Flew like a blossom blown about, - The coloured leaves, a globe of life, - Spun round and scattered as in strife, - Sweeping down the narrow lane - Like the slant shower of the rain, - The lark in terror, from the sod, - Flew up and straight appealed to God, - As a noisy band we went - Trotting to the Tournament. - - But when we saw the holy town, - With its river and its down, - Then the drums began to beat - And the flutes piped mellow sweet; - Then the deep and full bassoon - Murmured like a wood in June, - And the fifes, so sharp and bleak, - All at once began to speak. - Hear the trumpets clear and loud, - Full-tongued, eloquent and proud, - And the dulcimer that ranges - Through such wild and plaintive changes; - Merry sounds the jester’s shawm[56], - To our gladness giving form; - And the shepherd’s chalumeau[57], - Rich and soft and sad and low; - Hark! the bagpipes squeak and groan-- - Every herdsman has his own; - So in measured step we went - Pacing to the Tournament. - - All at once the chimes break out, - Then we hear the townsmen shout, - And the morris-dancers’ bells - Tinkling in the grassy dells; - The bell thunder from the tower - Adds its sound of doom and power, - As the cannon’s loud salute - For a moment made us mute; - Then again the laugh and joke - On the startled silence broke;-- - Thus in merry mood we went - Laughing to the Tournament. - - G. W. THORNBURY. - -[56] _shawm_: reed pipe. - -[57] _chalumeau_: reed pipe. - - - - -VARIOUS - - - - -A RED, RED ROSE - - - O, my love is like a red, red rose, - That’s newly sprung in June: - O, my love is like the melody - That’s sweetly play’d in tune. - - As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, - So deep in love am I, - And I will love thee still, my dear, - Till all the seas gang[58] dry. - - Till all the seas gang dry, my dear, - And the rocks melt wi’ the sun! - And I will love thee still, my dear, - While the sands o’ life shall run. - - And fare thee well, my only love, - And fare thee well a while! - And I will come again, my love, - Tho’ it were ten thousand mile! - - ROBERT BURNS. - -[58] _gang_: go. - - - - -BLOW, BUGLE, BLOW - - - The splendour falls on castle walls - And snowy summits old in story: - The long light shakes across the lakes, - And the wild cataract leaps in glory. - Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, - Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. - - O hark, O hear! how thin and clear, - And thinner, clearer, farther going! - O sweet and far from cliff and scar[59] - The horns of Elfland faintly blowing! - Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying: - Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying. - - O love, they die in yon rich sky, - They faint on hill or field or river: - Our echoes roll from soul to soul, - And grow for ever and for ever. - Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying, - And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying. - - ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. - -[59] _scar_: a crag, a precipice. - - - - -WEST AND EAST - -_Rome is chiefly known to young readers through the medium of -Macaulay’s spirited “Lays,” which, however, are only a re-telling, -in English ballad form, of some of the legends which survived into -historical times concerning the infant city, about which nothing -certain is known. They give no idea of the Rome of history, the -world-power, or of the brooding immensity of her influence through -centuries. This and the following poem illustrate, to some slight -extent, the later Rome._ - - - In his cool hall, with haggard eyes, - The Roman noble lay; - He drove abroad, in furious guise, - Along the Appian way. - - He made a feast, drank fierce and fast, - And crown’d his hair with flowers-- - No easier nor no quicker pass’d - The impracticable hours. - - The brooding East with awe beheld - Her impious younger world. - The Roman tempest swell’d and swell’d, - And on her head was hurled. - - The East bow’d low before the blast - In patient, deep disdain; - She let the legions thunder past, - And plunged in thought again. - - MATTHEW ARNOLD. - - - - -GENSERIC - - - Genseric, King of the Vandals, who, having laid waste seven lands, - From Tripolis far as Tangier, from the sea to the great desert sands, - Was lord of the Moor and the African,--thirsting anon for new - slaughter, - Sail’d out of Carthage, and sail’d o’er the Mediterranean water; - Plunder’d Palermo, seiz’d Sicily, sack’d the Lucanian coast, - And paused, and said, laughing, “Where next?” - Then there came to the Vandal a Ghost - From the Shadowy Land that lies hid and unknown in the Darkness Below. - And answered, “To Rome!” - Said the King to the Ghost, “And whose envoy art thou? - Whence com’st thou? and name me his name that hath sent thee: and say - what is thine.” - “From far: and His name that hath sent me is God,” the Ghost answered, - “and mine - Was Hannibal once, ere thou wast: and the name that I now have is - Fate. - But arise, and be swift, and return. For God waits, and the moment is - late.” - And, “I go,” said the Vandal. And went. When at last to the gates he - was come, - Loud he knock’d with his fierce iron fist. And full drowsily answer’d - him Rome. - “Who is it that knocketh so loud? Get thee hence. Let me be. For ’tis - late.” - “Thou art wanted,” cried Genseric. “Open! His name that hath sent me - is Fate, - And mine, who knock late, Retribution.” - Rome gave him her glorious things; - The keys she had conquer’d from kingdoms: the crowns she had wrested - from kings: - And Genseric bore them away into Carthage, avenged thus on Rome, - And paused, and said, laughing, “Where next?” - And again the Ghost answer’d him, “Home! - For now God doth need thee no longer.” - “Where leadest thou me by the hand?” - Cried the King to the Ghost. And the Ghost answer’d, “Into the Shadowy - Land.” - - OWEN MEREDITH. - - - - -KUBLA KHAN - - - In Xanadu did Kubla Khan - A stately pleasure-dome decree: - Where Alph, the sacred river, ran - Through caverns measureless to man - Down to a sunless sea. - So twice five miles of fertile ground - With walls and towers were girdled round: - And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills - Where blossom’d many an incense-bearing tree; - And here were forests ancient as the hills, - Enfolding sunny spots of greenery. - But O, that deep romantic chasm which slanted - Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover! - A savage place! as holy and enchanted - As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted - By woman wailing for her demon-lover! - And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, - As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, - A mighty fountain momently was forced; - Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst - Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail, - Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail: - And ’mid these dancing rocks at once and ever - It flung up momently the sacred river. - Five miles meandering with a mazy motion - Through wood and dale the sacred river ran, - Then reached the caverns measureless to man, - And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean: - And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far - Ancestral voices prophesying war! - The shadow of the dome of pleasure - Floated midway on the waves; - Where was heard the mingled measure - From the fountain and the caves. - It was a miracle of rare device, - A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice! - - A damsel with a dulcimer - In a vision once I saw: - It was an Abyssinian maid, - And on her dulcimer she play’d, - Singing of Mount Abora. - Could I revive within me - Her symphony and song, - To such a deep delight ’twould win me - That with music loud and long, - I would build that dome in air, - That sunny dome! those caves of ice! - And all who heard should see them there, - And all should cry, Beware! Beware! - His flashing eyes, his floating hair! - Weave a circle round him thrice, - And close your eyes with holy dread, - For he on honey-dew hath fed, - And drunk the milk of Paradise. - - SAMUEL TAYLOR COLERIDGE. - - - - -SOMETHING TO REMEMBER - - - Ah, did you once see Shelley plain, - And did he stop and speak to you, - And did you speak to him again? - How strange it seems, and new! - - But you were living before that. - And also you are living after, - And the memory I started at-- - My starting moves your laughter! - - I crossed a moor, with a name of its own - And a certain use in the world, no doubt, - Yet a hand’s-breadth of it shines alone - ’Mid the blank miles round about: - - For there I picked up on the heather - And there I put inside my breast - A moulted feather, an eagle-feather! - Well, I forget the rest. - - ROBERT BROWNING. - - - - -RING OUT, WILD BELLS - - - Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky, - The flying cloud, the frosty light: - The year is dying in the night; - Ring out wild bells, and let him die. - - Ring out the old, ring in the new, - Ring, happy bells, across the snow: - The year is going, let him go; - Ring out the false, ring in the true. - - Ring out the grief that saps the mind, - For those that here we see no more; - Ring out the feud of rich and poor, - Ring in redress to all mankind. - - Ring out a slowly dying cause, - And ancient forms of party strife; - Ring in the nobler modes of life, - With sweeter manners, purer laws. - - Ring out the want, the care, the sin, - The faithless coldness of the times; - Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes, - But ring the fuller minstrel in. - - Ring out false pride in place and blood, - The civic slander and the spite; - Ring in the love of truth and right, - Ring in the common love of good. - - Ring out old shapes of foul disease; - Ring out the narrowing lust of gold; - Ring out the thousand wars of old, - Ring in the thousand years of peace. - - Ring in the valiant man and free, - The larger heart, the kindlier hand; - Ring out the darkness of the land, - Ring in the Christ that is to be. - - ALFRED, LORD TENNYSON. - - - - -INDEX OF AUTHORS - - - PAGE - - Anonymous 28, 30, 34, 36 - - Arnold, Matthew 65, 115 - - Beddoes, Thomas Lovell 83 - - Browning, Elizabeth Barrett 84 - - Browning, Robert 19, 20, 54, 103, 120 - - Burns, Robert 113 - - Byron, Lord 39, 43 - - Campbell, Thomas 21 - - Clough, Arthur Hugh 57 - - Coleridge, Samuel Taylor 118 - - Collins, William 52 - - Crashaw, Richard 102 - - Herrick, Robert 1 - - Hovey, Richard 27 - - Howe, Julia Ward 47 - - Hunt, Leigh 77 - - Ingelow, Jean 92 - - Jonson, Ben 18 - - Keats, John 7 - - Kingsley, Charles 31, 78 - - Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth 22, 24, 26, 72 - - Lovelace, Richard 48 - - Meredith, Owen 116 - - Miller, Joaquin 56 - - Roberts, Theodore 37 - - Scott, Sir Walter 49, 53, 79, 104 - - Shakespeare, William 30, 101 - - Shelley, Percy Bysshe 9, 13 - - Tennyson, Alfred, Lord 2, 58, 114, 121 - - Thornbury, G. W. 105 - - Wolfe, Charles 50 - - Wordsworth, William 4, 100 - - - - -INDEX OF FIRST LINES - - - PAGE - - A lofty ship from Salcombe came 34 - - Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!) 77 - - Ah, did you once see Shelley plain 120 - - Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me 22 - - “All honour to him who shall win the prize” 56 - - Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee 102 - - At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears 100 - - Ay, Oliver! I was but seven, and he was eleven 92 - - Come, dear children, let us away 65 - - Full fathom five thy father lies 30 - - Genseric, King of the Vandals, who, having laid waste - seven lands 116 - - “Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled” 72 - - Hail to thee, blithe spirit 13 - - Here’s the tender coming 30 - - How sleep the brave, who sink to rest 52 - - I am fever’d with the sunset 27 - - I come from haunts of coot and hern 2 - - I’d like now, yet had haply been afraid 103 - - If there were dreams to sell 83 - - In his cool hall, with haggard eyes 115 - - In the pleasant orchard closes 84 - - In Xanadu did Kubla Khan 118 - - It was roses, roses, all the way 54 - - Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord 47 - - Nobly, nobly Cape St Vincent to the North-west died away 20 - - Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note 50 - - Oh England is a pleasant place for them that’s rich and - high 31 - - O for the voice of that wild horn 49 - - O Mary, go and call the cattle home 78 - - O, my love is like a red, red rose 113 - - O my true love’s a smuggler and sails upon the sea 36 - - O, to be in England 19 - - O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being 9 - - O young Lochinvar is come out of the West 79 - - Often I think of the beautiful town 26 - - On either side the river lie 58 - - Over meadows purple-flowered 105 - - Queen and huntress, chaste and fair 18 - - Ring out wild bells to the wild sky 121 - - Say not the struggle nought availeth 57 - - Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness 7 - - Simon Danz has come home again 24 - - Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er 53 - - Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind 48 - - Tell me where is Fancy bred 101 - - The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece! 43 - - The splendour falls on castle walls 114 - - There was a sound of revelry by night 39 - - There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream 4 - - Thunder of riotous hoofs over the quaking sod 37 - - ’Twas in the good ship _Rover_ 28 - - Waken, lords and ladies gay 104 - - Ye have been fresh and green 1 - - Ye Mariners of England 21 - - -CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS. - - - - -Books on English Language and Literature published by the Cambridge -University Press - - -ENGLISH LANGUAGE - - =English Grammar:= Descriptive and Historical. 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You may copy it, give it away or re-use it under the terms of -the Project Gutenberg License included with this eBook or online at -www.gutenberg.org. If you are not located in the United States, you'll have -to check the laws of the country where you are located before using this ebook. - -Title: The Cambridge Book of Poetry for Children - Parts 1 and 2 - -Author: Various - -Editor: Kenneth Grahame - -Release Date: January 22, 2016 [EBook #50994] - -Language: English - -Character set encoding: UTF-8 - -*** START OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAMBRIDGE BOOK POETRY CHILDREN *** - - - - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - - - - - - -</pre> - -<div class="hidehand"> -<div class="figcenter width400"> -<img src="images/cover2.jpg" width="400" height="638" alt="Cover" /> -</div> -</div> - -<hr class="divider" /> -<h1>The Cambridge Book<br /> -<span>of</span><br /> -Poetry for Children</h1> -<p class="center p120 mt3"><strong>PART I</strong></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<p class="center">CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">C. F. CLAY, Manager</span></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="ornate">London</span>: FETTER LANE, E.C.<br /> -<span class="ornate">Edinburgh</span>: 100 PRINCES STREET</p> - -<div class="figcenter width150"> -<img src="images/colophon.jpg" width="150" height="158" alt="Colophon" /> -</div> - -<p class="center">Bombay, Calcutta and Madras: <span class="smcap">MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd.</span></p> -<p class="center">Toronto: <span class="smcap">J. M. DENT AND SONS, Ltd.</span></p> -<p class="center">Tokyo: THE MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA</p> - - -<p class="center">Copyrighted in the United States of America by<br /> -G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS,<br /> -<span class="smcap">2, 4 and 6, West 45th Street, New York City</span></p> - - -<p class="center mt3"><em>All rights reserved</em></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<p class="center p180"><strong>The Cambridge Book<br /> -<span class="p80">of</span><br /> -Poetry for Children</strong></p> - -<p class="center mt3">Edited by<br /> -<span class="p140">KENNETH GRAHAME</span></p> - -<p class="center">Author of <em>The Golden Age</em>, <em>Dream Days</em>, <em>The Wind -in the Willows</em>, <em>etc.</em></p> - - -<p class="center p120 mt3">PART I</p> - - -<p class="center p120 mt3">Cambridge:<br /> -at the University Press<br /> -1916</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="NOTE" id="NOTE"></a>NOTE</h2> -</div> -<p>The Editor is indebted to the following authors and publishers for -leave to reprint copyright poems: Mr W. Graham Robertson and Mr Norman -Gale; Messrs Longmans Green & Co. for a poem by Walter Ramal and for a -poem from Stevenson’s <em>Child’s Garden of Verse</em>, Messrs Chatto & Windus -for an extract from Swinburne’s <em>Songs Before Sunrise</em> and for a poem -from Walter Thornbury’s <em>Ballads and Songs</em>, Messrs G. Routledge & Sons -for a poem by Joaquin Miller, Mr Elliot Stock for an extract from a -play by H. N. Maugham; and Mr John Lane for the Rands, Eugene Field, -and Graham Robertson poems, and for two extracts from John Davidson’s -<em>Fleet Street Eclogues</em>.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="PREFACE" id="PREFACE"></a>PREFACE</h2> -</div> -<p class="noi"><span class="dropcap">I</span>N compiling a selection of Poetry for Children, a conscientious Editor -is bound to find himself confronted with limitations so numerous as -to be almost disheartening. For he has to remember that his task is, -not to provide simple examples of the whole range of English poetry, -but to set up a wicket-gate giving attractive admission to that wide -domain, with its woodland glades, its pasture and arable, its walled -and scented gardens here and there, and so to its sunlit, and sometimes -misty, mountain-tops—all to be more fully explored later by those who -are tempted on by the first glimpse. And always he must be proclaiming -to the small tourists that there is joy, light and fresh air in that -delectable country.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_v" id="Page_v">v</a></span> -Briefly, I think that blank verse generally, and the drama as a -whole, may very well be left for readers of a riper age. Indeed, I -believe that those who can ignore the plays of Shakespeare and his -fellow-Elizabethans till they are sixteen will be no losers in the -long run. The bulk, too, of seventeenth and eighteenth century poetry, -bending under its burden of classical form and crowded classical -allusion, requires a completed education and a wide range of reading -for its proper appreciation.</p> - -<p>Much else also is barred. There are the questions of subject, of -archaic language and thought, and of occasional expression, which will -occur to everyone. Then there is dialect, and here one has to remember -that these poems are intended for use at the very time that a child -is painfully acquiring a normal—often quite arbitrary—orthography. -Is it fair to that child to hammer into him—perhaps literally—that -porridge is spelt porridge, and next minute to present it to him, in an -official ‘Reader,’ under the guise of parritch? I think not; and I have -accordingly kept as far as possible to the normal, though at some loss -of material.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vi" id="Page_vi">vi</a></span> -In the output of those writers who have deliberately written for -children, it is surprising how largely the subject of <em>death</em> is found -to bulk. Dead fathers and mothers, dead brothers and sisters, dead -uncles and aunts, dead puppies and kittens, dead birds, dead flowers, -dead dolls—a compiler of Obituary Verse for the delight of children -could make a fine fat volume with little difficulty. I have turned off -this mournful tap of tears as far as possible, preferring that children -should read of the joy of life, rather than revel in sentimental -thrills of imagined bereavement.</p> - -<p>There exists, moreover, any quantity of verse for children, which is -merely verse and nothing more. It lacks the vital spark of heavenly -flame, and is useless to a selector of Poetry. And then there is the -whole corpus of verse—most of it of the present day—which is written -<em>about</em> children, and this has even more carefully to be avoided. When -the time comes that we send our parents to school, it will prove very -useful to the compilers of their primers.</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_vii" id="Page_vii">vii</a></span> -All these restrictions have necessarily led to two results. First, -that this collection is chiefly lyrical—and that, after all, is no -bad thing. Lyric verse may not be representative of the whole range of -English poetry, but as an introduction to it, as a Wicket-gate, there -is no better portal. The second result is, that it is but a small sheaf -that these gleanings amount to; but for those children who frankly do -not care for poetry it will be more than enough; and for those who -love it and delight in it, no ‘selection’ could ever be sufficiently -satisfying.</p> - -<p class="right">KENNETH GRAHAME.</p> - -<p><em>October</em> 1915.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_viii" id="Page_viii">viii</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="contents" id="contents"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table summary="Contents"> -<tr> -<td> </td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl2"><span class="smcap">Preface</span></td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#PREFACE">v</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td><p class="division"><em>For the Very Smallest Ones</em></p></td> -<td> </td> -<td> </td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">RHYMES AND JINGLES</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Merry are the Bells</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Merry_are_the_Bells">1</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Safe in Bed</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Safe_in_Bed">2</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Jenny Wren</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Jenny_Wren">2</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Curly Locks</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Curly_Locks">3</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> -Pussy-Cat Mew</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Pussy-Cat_Mew">3</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Draw a Pail of Water</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Draw_a_Pail_of_Water">4</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I Saw a Ship a-sailing</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#I_Saw_a_Ship_a-sailing">4</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Nut-Tree</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Nut-Tree">5</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">My Maid Mary</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#My_Maid_Mary">5</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Wind and the Fisherman</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Wind_and_the_Fisherman">6</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Blow, Wind, Blow</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Blow_Wind_Blow">6</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">All Busy</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#All_Busy">6</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Winter has Come</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Winter_has_Come">7</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Poor Robin</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Poor_Robin">7</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I have a Little Sister</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#I_have_a_Little_Sister">7</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">In Marble Walls</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#In_Marble_Walls">8</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">FAMILIAR OBJECTS</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Moon</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Eliza Lee Follen</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Moon">8</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Star</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>A. & J. Taylor</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Star">9</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Kitty</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Mrs E. Prentiss</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Kitty">10</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ix" id="Page_ix">ix</a></span> -Kitty: How to Treat Her</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Kitty_How_to_Treat_Her">11</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Kitty: what She thinks of Herself</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. B. Rands</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Kitty_what_She_thinks_of_Herself">12</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Sea Shell</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Amy Lowell</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Sea_Shell">12</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">COUNTRY BOYS’ SONGS</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Cuckoo</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Cuckoo">13</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Bird-Scarer’s Song</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Bird-Scarers_Song">13</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Cradle Song</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Cradle_Song">13</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl3 pt1">Good Night!</td> -<td class="tdl pt1"><em>A. & J. Taylor</em></td> -<td class="tdr pt1"><a href="#GOOD_NIGHT">14</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td><p class="division"><em>For Those a Little Older</em></p></td> -<td> </td> -<td> </td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">A BUNCH OF LENT LILIES</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Daffodils</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Shakespeare</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Daffodils">15</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">To Daffodils</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>R. Herrick</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#To_Daffodils">15</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Daffodils</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Wordsworth</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Daffodils2">16</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">SEASONS AND WEATHER</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Months</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Sara Coleridge</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Months">17</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Wind in a Frolic</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>William Howitt</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Wind_in_a_Frolic">19</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Four Sweet Months</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>R. Herrick</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Four_Sweet_Months">22</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Glad Day</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. G. Robertson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Glad_Day">22</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Buttercups and Daisies</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Mary Howitt</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Buttercups_and_Daisies">24</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Merry Month of March</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Wordsworth</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Merry_Month_of_March">24</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">What the Birds Say</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>S. T. Coleridge</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#What_the_Birds_Say">25</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Spring’s Procession</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Sydney Dobell</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Springs_Procession">26</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Call of the Woods</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Shakespeare</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Call_of_the_Woods">28</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Prescription for a Spring Morning</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>John Davidson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Prescription_for_a_Spring_Morning">28</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_x" id="Page_x">x</a></span> -The Country Faith</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Norman Gale</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Country_Faith">29</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Butterfly’s Ball</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Roscoe</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Butterflys_Ball">30</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">TASTES AND PREFERENCES</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Wish</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Samuel Rogers</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Wish">33</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Wishing</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Allingham</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Wishing">34</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Bunches of Grapes</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Walter Ramal</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Bunches_of_Grapes">35</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Contentment</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Eugene Field</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Contentment">36</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">TOYS AND PLAY, IN-DOORS AND OUT</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Land of Story-Books</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>R. L. Stevenson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Land_of_Story-Books">38</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Sand Castles</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. G. Robertson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Sand_Castles">39</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ring o’ Roses</td> -<td class="tdc2">”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Ring_o_Roses">41</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">DREAM-LAND</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Wynken, Blynken, and Nod</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Eugene Field</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Wynken_Blynken_and_Nod">42</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Drummer-Boy and the Shepherdess</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. B. Rands</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Drummer-Boy_and_the_Sheperdess">44</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Land of Dreams</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>William Blake</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Land_of_Dreams">45</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Sweet and Low</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Lord Tennyson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Sweet_and_Low">45</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Cradle Song</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Sir Walter Scott</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Cradle_Song2">46</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Mother and I</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Eugene Field</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Mother_and_I">47</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">FAIRY-LAND</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Fairies</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Allingham</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Fairies">48</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Shakespeare’s Fairies</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Shakespeare</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Shakespeares_Fairies">51</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Lavender Beds</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. B. Rands</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Lavender_Beds">54</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Farewell to the Fairies</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Richard Corbet</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Farewell_to_the_Fairies">55</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Death of Oberon</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>G. W. Thornbury</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Dirge_on_the_Death_of_Oberon_the_Fairy_King">57</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Kilmeny</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>James Hogg</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Kilmeny">58</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_xi" id="Page_xi">xi</a></span> -TWO SONGS</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Boy’s Song</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>James Hogg</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Boys_Song">62</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Girl’s Song</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Thomas Moore</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Girls_Song">63</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">FUR AND FEATHER</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Three Things to Remember</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>William Blake</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Three_Things_to_Remember">65</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Knight of Bethlehem</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>H. N. Maugham</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Knight_of_Bethlehem">65</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Lamb</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>William Blake</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Lamb">65</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Tiger</td> -<td class="tdc2">”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Tiger">66</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I had a Dove</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>J. Keats</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#I_had_a_Dove">67</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Robin Redbreast</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Allingham</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Robin_Redbreast">68</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Black Bunny</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. B. Rands</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Black_Bunny">69</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Cow</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>A. & J. Taylor</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Cow">71</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Skylark</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>James Hogg</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Skylark">72</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">CHRISTMAS POEMS</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Christmas Eve</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>John Davidson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Christmas_Eve">73</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Christmas Carol</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>R. Herrick</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Christmas_Carol">75</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Child’s Present</td> -<td class="tdc2">”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Childs_Present_to_His_Child-Saviour">76</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Peace-Giver</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>A. C. Swinburne</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Peace-Giver">77</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">VARIOUS</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">To a Singer</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>P. B. Shelley</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#To_a_Singer"> 78</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Happy Piper</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>William Blake</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Happy_Piper">80</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Destruction of Sennacherib</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Lord Byron</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Destruction_of_Sennacherib">81</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Sheridan’s Ride</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>T. Buchanan Read</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Sheridans_Ride">83</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Columbus</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Joaquin Miller</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Columbus">86</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Horatius</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Lord Macaulay</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Horatius">88</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl pt1"><span class="smcap">Index of Authors</span></td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr pt1"><a href="#INDEX_OF_AUTHORS">113</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl pt1"><span class="smcap">Index of First Lines</span></td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr pt1"><a href="#INDEX_OF_FIRST_LINES">115</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_1" id="Page_1">1</a></span> -</div> - -<p class="division"><a name="For_the_Very_Smallest_Ones" id="For_the_Very_Smallest_Ones"></a><em>For the Very Smallest Ones</em></p> - -<h2><a name="RHYMES_AND_JINGLES" id="RHYMES_AND_JINGLES"></a>RHYMES AND JINGLES</h2> - -<p><em>We begin with some jingles and old rhymes; for rhymes and jingles must -not be despised. They have rhyme, rhythm, melody, and joy; and it is -well for beginners to know that these are all elements of poetry, so -that they will turn to it with pleasant expectation.</em></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Merry_are_the_Bells" id="Merry_are_the_Bells"></a><span class="smcap">Merry are the Bells</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring,</div> -<div class="line">Merry was myself, and merry could I sing;</div> -<div class="line">With a merry ding-dong, happy, gay, and free,</div> -<div class="line">And a merry sing-song, happy let us be!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Waddle goes your gait, and hollow are your hose;</div> -<div class="line">Noddle goes your pate, and purple is your nose;</div> -<div class="line">Merry is your sing-song, happy, gay, and free;</div> -<div class="line">With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_2" id="Page_2">2</a></span> -<div class="line">Merry have we met, and merry have we been;</div> -<div class="line">Merry let us part, and merry meet again;</div> -<div class="line">With our merry sing-song, happy, gay, and free,</div> -<div class="line">With a merry ding-dong, happy let us be!</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Safe_in_Bed" id="Safe_in_Bed"></a><span class="smcap">Safe in Bed</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Matthew, Mark, Luke and John,</div> -<div class="line">Bless the bed that I lie on!</div> -<div class="line">Four corners to my bed,</div> -<div class="line">Five angels there lie spread;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Two at my head,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Two at my feet,</div> -<div class="line">One at my heart, my soul to keep.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Jenny_Wren" id="Jenny_Wren"></a><span class="smcap">Jenny Wren</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Jenny Wren fell sick;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Upon a merry time,</div> -<div class="line">In came Robin Redbreast,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And brought her sops of wine.</div> -</div><div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Eat well of the sop, Jenny,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Drink well of the wine;</div> -<div class="line">Thank you Robin kindly,</div> -<div class="line indent2">You shall be mine.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_3" id="Page_3">3</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Jenny she got well,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And stood upon her feet,</div> -<div class="line">And told Robin plainly</div> -<div class="line indent2">She loved him not a bit.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Robin, being angry,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hopp’d on a twig,</div> -<div class="line">Saying, Out upon you,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Fye upon you,</div> -<div class="line indent12">Bold-faced jig!</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Curly_Locks" id="Curly_Locks"></a><span class="smcap">Curly Locks</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Curly locks! Curly locks!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Wilt thou be mine?</div> -<div class="line">Thou shalt not wash dishes</div> -<div class="line indent2">Nor yet feed the swine.</div> -<div class="line">But sit on a cushion</div> -<div class="line indent2">And sew a fine seam,</div> -<div class="line">And feed upon strawberries</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sugar and cream.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Pussy-Cat_Mew" id="Pussy-Cat_Mew"></a><span class="smcap">Pussy-Cat Mew</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Pussy-cat Mew jumped over a coal,</div> -<div class="line">And in her best petticoat burnt a great hole.</div> -<div class="line">Pussy-cat Mew shall have no more milk</div> -<div class="line">Till she has mended her gown of silk.</div> -</div></div></div> -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_4" id="Page_4">4</a></span></p> - - - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Draw_a_Pail_of_Water" id="Draw_a_Pail_of_Water"></a><span class="smcap">Draw a Pail of Water</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Draw a pail of water</div> -<div class="line">For my Lady’s daughter.</div> -<div class="line">Father’s a King,</div> -<div class="line">Mother’s a Queen,</div> -<div class="line">My two little sisters are dressed in green,</div> -<div class="line">Stamping marigolds and parsley.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="I_Saw_a_Ship_a-sailing" id="I_Saw_a_Ship_a-sailing"></a><span class="smcap">I Saw a Ship a-sailing</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I saw a ship a-sailing,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A-sailing on the sea;</div> -<div class="line">And it was full of pretty things</div> -<div class="line indent2">For baby and for me.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There were sweetmeats in the cabin,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And apples in the hold;</div> -<div class="line">The sails were made of silk,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the masts were made of gold.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The four-and-twenty sailors</div> -<div class="line indent2">That stood between the decks,</div> -<div class="line">Were four-and-twenty white mice,</div> -<div class="line indent2">With chains about their necks.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_5" id="Page_5">5</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The captain was a duck,</div> -<div class="line indent2">With a packet on his back;</div> -<div class="line">And when the ship began to move,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The captain cried, “Quack, quack!”</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Nut-Tree" id="The_Nut-Tree"></a><span class="smcap">The Nut-Tree</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I had a little nut-tree,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Nothing would it bear</div> -<div class="line">But a silver nutmeg</div> -<div class="line indent2">And a golden pear;</div> -<div class="line">The King of Spain’s daughter</div> -<div class="line indent2">She came to see me,</div> -<div class="line">And all because of my little nut-tree.</div> -<div class="line">I skipped over water,</div> -<div class="line indent2">I danced over sea,</div> -<div class="line">And all the birds in the air couldn’t catch me.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="My_Maid_Mary" id="My_Maid_Mary"></a><span class="smcap">My Maid Mary</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">My maid Mary she minds the dairy,</div> -<div class="line indent2">While I go a-hoeing and a-mowing each morn;</div> -<div class="line">Gaily run the reel and the little spinning-wheel,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Whilst I am singing and mowing my corn.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_6" id="Page_6">6</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Wind_and_the_Fisherman" id="The_Wind_and_the_Fisherman"></a><span class="smcap">The Wind and the Fisherman</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When the wind is in the East,</div> -<div class="line">’Tis neither good for man or beast;</div> -<div class="line">When the wind is in the North,</div> -<div class="line">The skilful fisher goes not forth;</div> -<div class="line">When the wind is in the South,</div> -<div class="line">It blows the bait in the fish’s mouth;</div> -<div class="line">When the wind is in the West,</div> -<div class="line">Then ’tis at the very best.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Blow_Wind_Blow" id="Blow_Wind_Blow"></a><span class="smcap">Blow, Wind, Blow</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!</div> -<div class="line indent2">That the miller may grind his corn;</div> -<div class="line">That the baker may take it and into rolls make it,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And send us some hot in the morn.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="All_Busy" id="All_Busy"></a><span class="smcap">All Busy</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The cock’s on the house-top,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Blowing his horn;</div> -<div class="line">The bull’s in the barn,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A-threshing of corn;</div> -<div class="line">The maids in the meadows</div> -<div class="line indent2">Are making the hay,</div> -<div class="line">The ducks in the river</div> -<div class="line indent2">Are swimming away.</div> -</div></div></div> -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_7" id="Page_7">7</a></span></p> - - - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Winter_has_Come" id="Winter_has_Come"></a><span class="smcap">Winter has Come</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Cold and raw</div> -<div class="line indent2">The north wind doth blow</div> -<div class="line indent4">Bleak in the morning early;</div> -<div class="line indent2">All the hills are covered with snow,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And winter’s now come fairly.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Poor_Robin" id="Poor_Robin"></a><span class="smcap">Poor Robin</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">The north wind doth blow,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And we shall have snow,</div> -<div class="line">And what will poor Robin do then, poor thing?</div> -<div class="line indent2">He’ll sit in the barn,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And keep himself warm,</div> -<div class="line">And hide his head under his wing, poor thing!</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="I_have_a_Little_Sister" id="I_have_a_Little_Sister"></a><span class="smcap">I have a Little Sister</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I have a little sister, they call her Peep, Peep,</div> -<div class="line">She wades the waters, deep, deep, deep;</div> -<div class="line">She climbs the mountains, high, high, high;</div> -<div class="line">Poor little creature, she has but one eye.</div> -<div class="line indent22">(A star.)</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_8" id="Page_8">8</a></span></p> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="In_Marble_Walls" id="In_Marble_Walls"></a><span class="smcap">In Marble Walls</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In marble walls as white as milk,</div> -<div class="line">Lined with a skin as soft as silk,</div> -<div class="line">Within a fountain crystal-clear,</div> -<div class="line">A golden apple doth appear.</div> -<div class="line">No doors there are to this stronghold,</div> -<div class="line">Yet thieves break in and steal the gold.</div> -<div class="line indent18">(An egg.)</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="FAMILIAR_OBJECTS" id="FAMILIAR_OBJECTS"></a>FAMILIAR OBJECTS</h2> -</div> - -<p><em>Here are some poems about things with which we are all quite familiar: -the Moon and the Stars that we see through our bedroom window; Pussy -purring on the hearthrug, the spotted shell on the mantelpiece.</em></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Moon" id="The_Moon"></a><span class="smcap">The Moon</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O, look at the moon!</div> -<div class="line indent2">She is shining up there;</div> -<div class="line">O mother, she looks</div> -<div class="line indent2">Like a lamp in the air.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Last week she was smaller,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And shaped like a bow;</div> -<div class="line">But now she’s grown bigger,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And round as an O.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_9" id="Page_9">9</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Pretty moon, pretty moon,</div> -<div class="line indent2">How you shine on the door,</div> -<div class="line">And make it all bright</div> -<div class="line indent2">On my nursery floor!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">You shine on my playthings,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And show me their place,</div> -<div class="line">And I love to look up</div> -<div class="line indent2">At your pretty bright face.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And there is a star</div> -<div class="line indent2">Close by you, and maybe</div> -<div class="line">That small twinkling star</div> -<div class="line indent2">Is your little baby.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Eliza Lee Follen.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Star" id="The_Star"></a><span class="smcap">The Star</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Twinkle, twinkle, little star,</div> -<div class="line">How I wonder what you are!</div> -<div class="line">Up above the world so high,</div> -<div class="line">Like a diamond in the sky.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When the blazing sun is gone,</div> -<div class="line">When he nothing shines upon,</div> -<div class="line">Then you show your little light,</div> -<div class="line">Twinkle, twinkle, all the night.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_10" id="Page_10">10</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then the traveller in the dark</div> -<div class="line">Thanks you for your tiny spark;</div> -<div class="line">He could not see which way to go,</div> -<div class="line">If you did not twinkle so.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In the dark blue sky you keep,</div> -<div class="line">And often through my curtains peep,</div> -<div class="line">For you never shut your eye</div> -<div class="line">Till the sun is in the sky.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">As your bright and tiny spark</div> -<div class="line">Lights the traveller in the dark,</div> -<div class="line">Though I know not what you are,</div> -<div class="line">Twinkle, twinkle, little star.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Ann and Jane Taylor.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Kitty" id="Kitty"></a><span class="smcap">Kitty</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Once there was a little kitty</div> -<div class="line indent2">Whiter than snow;</div> -<div class="line">In a barn she used to frolic,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Long time ago.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In the barn a little mousie</div> -<div class="line indent2">Ran to and fro;</div> -<div class="line">For she heard the kitty coming,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Long time ago.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_11" id="Page_11">11</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Two eyes had little kitty,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Black as a sloe;</div> -<div class="line">And they spied the little mousie,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Long time ago.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Four paws had little kitty,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Paws soft as dough,</div> -<div class="line">And they caught the little mousie,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Long time ago.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Nine teeth had little kitty,</div> -<div class="line indent2">All in a row;</div> -<div class="line">And they bit the little mousie,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Long time ago.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When the teeth bit little mousie,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Little mouse cried “Oh!”</div> -<div class="line">But she got away from kitty,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Long time ago.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Mrs E. Prentiss.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Kitty_How_to_Treat_Her" id="Kitty_How_to_Treat_Her"></a><span class="smcap">Kitty: How to Treat Her</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I like little Pussy, her coat is so warm,</div> -<div class="line">And if I don’t hurt her she’ll do me no harm;</div> -<div class="line">So I’ll not pull her tail, nor drive her away,</div> -<div class="line">But Pussy and I very gently will play.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_12" id="Page_12">12</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Kitty_what_She_thinks_of_Herself" id="Kitty_what_She_thinks_of_Herself"></a><span class="smcap">Kitty: what She thinks of Herself</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I am the Cat of Cats. I am</div> -<div class="line indent2">The everlasting cat!</div> -<div class="line">Cunning, and old, and sleek as jam,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The everlasting cat!</div> -<div class="line">I hunt the vermin in the night—</div> -<div class="line indent2">The everlasting cat!</div> -<div class="line">For I see best without the light—</div> -<div class="line indent2">The everlasting cat!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">W. B. Rands.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Sea_Shell" id="The_Sea_Shell"></a><span class="smcap">The Sea Shell</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Sea Shell, Sea Shell,</div> -<div class="line">Sing me a song, O please!</div> -<div class="line">A song of ships and sailor-men,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of parrots and tropical trees;</div> -<div class="line">Of islands lost in the Spanish Main</div> -<div class="line">Which no man ever may see again,</div> -<div class="line">Of fishes and corals under the waves,</div> -<div class="line">And sea-horses stabled in great green caves—</div> -<div class="line indent4">Sea Shell, Sea Shell,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sing me a song, O please!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Amy Lowell.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_13" id="Page_13">13</a></span> -<h2><a name="COUNTRY_BOYS_SONGS" id="COUNTRY_BOYS_SONGS"></a>COUNTRY BOYS’ SONGS</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Cuckoo" id="The_Cuckoo"></a><span class="smcap">The Cuckoo</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The cuckoo’s a bonny bird,</div> -<div class="line indent2">She sings as she flies;</div> -<div class="line">She brings us good tidings,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And tells us no lies.</div> -<div class="line">She sucks little birds’ eggs,</div> -<div class="line indent2">To make her voice clear,</div> -<div class="line">And never cries Cuckoo</div> -<div class="line indent2">Till the spring of the year.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Bird-Scarers_Song" id="The_Bird-Scarers_Song"></a><span class="smcap">The Bird-Scarer’s Song</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">We’ve ploughed our land, we’ve sown our seed,</div> -<div class="line">We’ve made all neat and gay;</div> -<div class="line">Then take a bit and leave a bit,</div> -<div class="line">Away, birds, away!</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Cradle_Song" id="Cradle_Song"></a><span class="smcap">Cradle Song</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Sleep, baby, sleep,</div> -<div class="line">Our cottage vale is deep;</div> -<div class="line">The little lamb is on the green,</div> -<div class="line">With woolly fleece so soft and clean,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sleep, baby, sleep!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_14" id="Page_14">14</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Sleep, baby, sleep,</div> -<div class="line">Down where the woodbines creep;</div> -<div class="line">Be always like the lamb so mild,</div> -<div class="line">A kind and sweet and gentle child,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sleep, baby, sleep!</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="GOOD_NIGHT" id="GOOD_NIGHT"></a>GOOD NIGHT!</h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Little baby, lay your head</div> -<div class="line">On your pretty cradle-bed;</div> -<div class="line">Shut your eye-peeps, now the day</div> -<div class="line">And the light are gone away;</div> -<div class="line">All the clothes are tucked in tight;</div> -<div class="line">Little baby dear, good night.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Yes, my darling, well I know</div> -<div class="line">How the bitter wind doth blow;</div> -<div class="line">And the winter’s snow and rain</div> -<div class="line">Patter on the window-pane:</div> -<div class="line">But they cannot come in here,</div> -<div class="line">To my little baby dear.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">For the window shutteth fast,</div> -<div class="line">Till the stormy night is past;</div> -<div class="line">And the curtains warm are spread</div> -<div class="line">Round about her cradle-bed:</div> -<div class="line">So till morning shineth bright</div> -<div class="line">Little baby dear, good night!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Ann and Jane Taylor.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_15" id="Page_15">15</a></span> -<p class="division"><a name="For_Those_a_Little_Older" id="For_Those_a_Little_Older"></a><em>For Those a Little Older</em></p> -</div> - -<h2>A BUNCH OF LENT LILIES</h2> - -<p><em>Here three Poets treat the same flower each from his own distinct and -delightful point of view. To the first it appeals as the flower of -courage, the brave early comer; to the second it is the early goer, -the flower of a too swift departure—though daffodils really bloom -for a fairly long time, as flowers go; the third is grateful for an -imperishable recollection.</em></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Daffodils" id="Daffodils"></a><span class="smcap">Daffodils</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent20">... Daffodils</div> -<div class="line">That come before the swallow dares, and take</div> -<div class="line">The winds of March with beauty.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Shakespeare.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="To_Daffodils" id="To_Daffodils"></a><span class="smcap">To Daffodils</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Fair daffodils, we weep to see</div> -<div class="line indent2">You haste away so soon;</div> -<div class="line">As yet the early-rising sun</div> -<div class="line indent2">Has not attain’d his noon.</div> -<div class="line indent4">Stay, stay</div> -<div class="line indent2">Until the hasting day</div> -<div class="line indent4">Has run</div> -<div class="line indent2">But to the evensong;</div> -<div class="line">And, having pray’d together, we</div> -<div class="line indent2">Will go with you along.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_16" id="Page_16">16</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">We have short time to stay, as you,</div> -<div class="line indent2">We have as short a spring;</div> -<div class="line">As quick a growth to meet decay,</div> -<div class="line indent2">As you, or anything.</div> -<div class="line indent4">We die</div> -<div class="line indent2">As your hours do, and dry</div> -<div class="line indent4">Away</div> -<div class="line indent2">Like to the summer’s rain;</div> -<div class="line">Or as the pearls of morning’s dew,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Ne’er to be found again.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Herrick.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Daffodils2" id="Daffodils2"></a><span class="smcap">Daffodils</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I wander’d lonely as a cloud</div> -<div class="line indent2">That floats on high o’er vales and hills,</div> -<div class="line">When all at once I saw a crowd,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A host, of golden daffodils;</div> -<div class="line">Beside the lake, beneath the trees,</div> -<div class="line">Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Continuous as the stars that shine</div> -<div class="line indent2">And twinkle on the Milky Way,</div> -<div class="line">They stretch’d in never-ending line</div> -<div class="line indent2">Along the margin of a bay:</div> -<div class="line">Ten thousand saw I at a glance,</div> -<div class="line">Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_17" id="Page_17">17</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The waves beside them danced, but they</div> -<div class="line indent2">Outdid the sparkling waves in glee:</div> -<div class="line">A poet could not but be gay,</div> -<div class="line indent2">In such a jocund company:</div> -<div class="line">I gazed—and gazed—but little thought</div> -<div class="line">What wealth the show to me had brought:</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">For oft, when on my couch I lie</div> -<div class="line indent2">In vacant or in pensive mood,</div> -<div class="line">They flash upon that inward eye</div> -<div class="line indent2">Which is the bliss of solitude;</div> -<div class="line">And then my heart with pleasure fills,</div> -<div class="line">And dances with the daffodils.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Wordsworth.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="SEASONS_AND_WEATHER" id="SEASONS_AND_WEATHER"></a>SEASONS AND WEATHER</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Months" id="The_Months"></a><span class="smcap">The Months</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">January brings the snow,</div> -<div class="line">Makes our feet and fingers glow.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">February brings the rain,</div> -<div class="line">Thaws the frozen lake again.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">March brings breezes loud and shrill,</div> -<div class="line">Stirs the dancing daffodil.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_18" id="Page_18">18</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">April brings the primrose sweet,</div> -<div class="line">Scatters daisies at our feet.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">May brings flocks of pretty lambs,</div> -<div class="line">Skipping by their fleecy dams.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">June brings tulips, lilies, roses,</div> -<div class="line">Fills the children’s hands with posies.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Hot July brings cooling showers,</div> -<div class="line">Apricots and gillyflowers.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">August brings the sheaves of corn,</div> -<div class="line">Then the harvest home is borne.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Warm September brings the fruit,</div> -<div class="line">Sportsmen then begin to shoot.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Fresh October brings the pheasant,</div> -<div class="line">Then to gather nuts is pleasant.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Dull November brings the blast,</div> -<div class="line">Then the leaves are whirling fast.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Chill December brings the sleet,</div> -<div class="line">Blazing fire and Christmas treat.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Sara Coleridge.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_19" id="Page_19">19</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Wind_in_a_Frolic" id="The_Wind_in_a_Frolic"></a><span class="smcap">The Wind in a Frolic</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The wind one morning sprang up from sleep,</div> -<div class="line">Saying, “Now for a frolic! now for a leap!</div> -<div class="line">Now for a madcap galloping chase!</div> -<div class="line">I’ll make a commotion in every place!”</div> -<div class="line">So it swept with a bustle right through a great town,</div> -<div class="line">Creaking the signs and scattering down</div> -<div class="line">Shutters; and whisking, with merciless squalls,</div> -<div class="line">Old women’s bonnets and gingerbread stalls.</div> -<div class="line">There never was heard a much lustier shout,</div> -<div class="line">As the apples and oranges trundled about;</div> -<div class="line">And the urchins, that stand with their thievish eyes</div> -<div class="line">For ever on watch, ran off each with a prize.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then away to the field it went blustering and humming,</div> -<div class="line">And the cattle all wondered whatever was coming.</div> -<div class="line">It plucked by their tails the grave matronly cows,</div> -<div class="line">And tossed the colts’ manes all about their brows,</div> -<div class="line">Till, offended at such a familiar salute,</div> -<div class="line">They all turned their backs, and stood sullenly mute.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_20" id="Page_20">20</a></span> -<div class="line">So on it went, capering and playing its pranks;</div> -<div class="line">Whistling with reeds on the broad river’s banks;</div> -<div class="line">Puffing the birds as they sat on the spray,</div> -<div class="line">Or the traveller grave on the king’s highway.</div> -<div class="line">It was not too nice<a name="FNanchor_1_1" id="FNanchor_1_1"></a><a href="#Footnote_1_1" class="fnanchor">[1]</a> to hustle the bags</div> -<div class="line">Of the beggar, and flutter his dirty rags;</div> -<div class="line">’Twas so bold that it feared not to play its joke</div> -<div class="line">With the doctor’s wig, or the gentleman’s cloak.</div> -<div class="line">Through the forest it roared, and cried gaily, “Now,</div> -<div class="line">You sturdy old oaks, I’ll make you bow!”</div> -<div class="line">And it made them bow without more ado,</div> -<div class="line">Or it cracked their great branches through and through.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then it rushed like a monster on cottage and farm,</div> -<div class="line">Striking their dwellers with sudden alarm;</div> -<div class="line">And they ran out like bees in a midsummer swarm.</div> -<div class="line">There were dames with their kerchiefs tied over their caps,</div> -<div class="line">To see if their poultry were free from mishaps;</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_21" id="Page_21">21</a></span> -<div class="line">The turkeys they gobbled, the geese screamed aloud,</div> -<div class="line">And the hens crept to roost in a terrified crowd;</div> -<div class="line">There was rearing of ladders, and logs laying on</div> -<div class="line">Where the thatch from the roof threatened soon to be gone.</div> -<div class="line">But the wind had passed on, and had met in a lane</div> -<div class="line">With a schoolboy, who panted and struggled in vain;</div> -<div class="line">For it tossed him and twirled him, then passed, and he stood</div> -<div class="line">With his hat in a pool and his shoe in the mud.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But away went the wind in its holiday glee,</div> -<div class="line">And now it was far on the billowy sea,</div> -<div class="line">And the lordly ships felt its staggering blow,</div> -<div class="line">And the little boats darted to and fro.</div> -<div class="line">But lo! it was night, and it sank to rest,</div> -<div class="line">On the sea-bird’s rock in the gleaming West,</div> -<div class="line">Laughing to think, in its fearful fun,</div> -<div class="line">How little of mischief it had done.</div> -</div></div></div> - - - -<p class="right"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_22" id="Page_22">22</a></span> -<span class="smcap">William Howitt.</span></p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_1_1" id="Footnote_1_1"></a><a href="#FNanchor_1_1"><span class="label">[1]</span></a> <em>nice</em>: particular.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Four_Sweet_Months" id="The_Four_Sweet_Months"></a><span class="smcap">The Four Sweet Months</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">First, April, she with mellow showers</div> -<div class="line">Opens the way for early flowers;</div> -<div class="line">Then after her comes smiling May,</div> -<div class="line">In a more sweet and rich array;</div> -<div class="line">Next enters June, and brings us more</div> -<div class="line">Gems than those two that went before:</div> -<div class="line">Then, lastly, July comes and she</div> -<div class="line">More wealth brings in than all those three.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Robert Herrick.</span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Glad_Day" id="Glad_Day"></a><span class="smcap">Glad Day</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Here’s another day, dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Here’s the sun again</div> -<div class="line">Peeping in his pleasant way</div> -<div class="line indent2">Through the window pane.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Rise and let him in, dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hail him “hip hurray!”</div> -<div class="line">Now the fun will all begin.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Here’s another day!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Down the coppice path, dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Through the dewy glade,</div> -<div class="line">(When the Morning took her bath</div> -<div class="line indent2">What a splash she made!)</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_23" id="Page_23">23</a></span> -<div class="line indent2">Up the wet wood-way, dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Under dripping green</div> -<div class="line">Run to meet another day,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Brightest ever seen.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Mushrooms in the field, dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Show their silver gleam.</div> -<div class="line">What a dainty crop they yield</div> -<div class="line indent2">Firm as clouted cream,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Cool as balls of snow, dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sweet and fresh and round!</div> -<div class="line">Ere the early dew can go</div> -<div class="line indent2">We must clear the ground.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Such a lot to do, dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Such a lot to see!</div> -<div class="line">How we ever can get through</div> -<div class="line indent2">Fairly puzzles me.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hurry up and out, dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Then—away! away!</div> -<div class="line">In and out and round about,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Here’s another day!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">W. Graham Robertson.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_24" id="Page_24">24</a></span> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Buttercups_and_Daisies" id="Buttercups_and_Daisies"></a><span class="smcap">Buttercups and Daisies</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Buttercups and daisies—</div> -<div class="line">O the pretty flowers!</div> -<div class="line">Coming ere the spring-time,</div> -<div class="line indent2">To tell of sunny hours.</div> -<div class="line">When the trees are leafless;</div> -<div class="line indent2">When the fields are bare;</div> -<div class="line">Buttercups and daisies</div> -<div class="line indent2">Spring up here and there.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Welcome, yellow buttercups!</div> -<div class="line">Welcome, daisies white!</div> -<div class="line">Ye are in my spirit</div> -<div class="line indent2">Vision’d, a delight!</div> -<div class="line">Coming ere the spring-time,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of sunny hours to tell—</div> -<div class="line">Speaking to our hearts of Him</div> -<div class="line indent2">Who doeth all things well.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Mary Howitt.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Merry_Month_of_March" id="The_Merry_Month_of_March"></a><span class="smcap">The Merry Month of March</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">The cock is crowing,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The stream is flowing,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The small birds twitter,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The lake doth glitter,</div> -<div class="line">The green field sleeps in the sun;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_25" id="Page_25">25</a></span> -<div class="line indent2">The oldest and youngest</div> -<div class="line indent2">Are at work with the strongest;</div> -<div class="line indent2">The cattle are grazing,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Their heads never raising;</div> -<div class="line">There are forty feeding like one!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Like an army defeated</div> -<div class="line indent2">The snow hath retreated,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And now doth fare ill</div> -<div class="line indent2">On the top of the bare hill;</div> -<div class="line">The Plough-boy is whooping anon, anon.</div> -<div class="line indent2">There’s joy in the mountains;</div> -<div class="line indent2">There’s life in the fountains;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Small clouds are sailing,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Blue sky prevailing;</div> -<div class="line">The rain is over and gone!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Wordsworth.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="What_the_Birds_Say" id="What_the_Birds_Say"></a><span class="smcap">What the Birds Say</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Do you know what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove,</div> -<div class="line">The linnet and thrush say “I love and I love!”</div> -<div class="line">In the winter they’re silent—the wind is so strong;</div> -<div class="line">What it says I don’t know, but it sings a loud song.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_26" id="Page_26">26</a></span> -<div class="line">But green leaves, and blossoms, and sunny warm weather,</div> -<div class="line">And singing, and loving, all come back together.</div> -<div class="line">But the lark is so brimful of gladness and love,</div> -<div class="line">The green fields below him, the blue sky above,</div> -<div class="line">That he sings, and he sings, and for ever sings he—</div> -<div class="line">“I love my love, and my love loves me!”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">S. T. Coleridge.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Springs_Procession" id="Springs_Procession"></a><span class="smcap">Spring’s Procession</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">First came the primrose,</div> -<div class="line">On the bank high,</div> -<div class="line">Like a maiden looking forth</div> -<div class="line">From the window of a tower</div> -<div class="line">When the battle rolls below,</div> -<div class="line">So look’d she,</div> -<div class="line">And saw the storms go by.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then came the wind-flower</div> -<div class="line">In the valley left behind,</div> -<div class="line">As a wounded maiden, pale</div> -<div class="line">With purple streaks of woe,</div> -<div class="line">When the battle has roll’d by</div> -<div class="line">Wanders to and fro,</div> -<div class="line">So tottered she,</div> -<div class="line">Dishevell’d in the wind.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_27" id="Page_27">27</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then came the daisies,</div> -<div class="line">On the first of May,</div> -<div class="line">Like a banner’d show’s advance</div> -<div class="line">While the crowd runs by the way,</div> -<div class="line">With ten thousand flowers about them<br /> -they came trooping through the fields.</div> -<div class="line">As a happy people come,</div> -<div class="line">So came they,</div> -<div class="line">As a happy people come</div> -<div class="line">When the war has roll’d away,</div> -<div class="line">With dance and tabor, pipe and drum,</div> -<div class="line">And all make holiday.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then came the cowslip,</div> -<div class="line">Like a dancer in the fair,</div> -<div class="line">She spread her little mat of green,</div> -<div class="line">And on it danced she.</div> -<div class="line">With a fillet bound about her brow,</div> -<div class="line">A fillet round her happy brow,</div> -<div class="line">A golden fillet round her brow,</div> -<div class="line">And rubies in her hair.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Sydney Dobell.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_28" id="Page_28">28</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Call_of_the_Woods" id="The_Call_of_the_Woods"></a><span class="smcap">The Call of the Woods</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Under the greenwood tree,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Who loves to lie with me,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And tune his merry note</div> -<div class="line indent2">Unto the sweet bird’s throat,</div> -<div class="line">Come hither, come hither, come hither!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Here shall he see</div> -<div class="line indent2">No enemy</div> -<div class="line">But winter and rough weather.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Who doth ambition shun,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And loves to live in the sun,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Seeking the food he eats,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And pleas’d with what he gets,</div> -<div class="line">Come hither, come hither, come hither!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Here shall he see</div> -<div class="line indent2">No enemy</div> -<div class="line">But winter and rough weather.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Shakespeare.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="A_Prescription_for_a_Spring_Morning" id="A_Prescription_for_a_Spring_Morning"></a><span class="smcap">A Prescription for a Spring Morning</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">At early dawn through London you must go</div> -<div class="line">Until you come where long black hedgerows grow,</div> -<div class="line">With pink buds pearl’d, with here and there a tree,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_29" id="Page_29">29</a></span> -<div class="line indent2">And gates and stiles; and watch good country folk;</div> -<div class="line indent2">And scent the spicy smoke</div> -<div class="line">Of wither’d weeds that burn where gardens be;</div> -<div class="line">And in a ditch perhaps a primrose see.</div> -<div class="line">The rooks shall stalk the plough, larks mount the skies,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Blackbirds and speckled thrushes sing aloud,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hid in the warm white cloud</div> -<div class="line">Mantling the thorn, and far away shall rise</div> -<div class="line">The milky low of cows and farm-yard cries.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">From windy heavens the climbing sun shall shine,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And February greet you like a maid</div> -<div class="line indent2">In russet cloak array’d;</div> -<div class="line">And you shall take her for your mistress fine,</div> -<div class="line">And pluck a crocus for her valentine.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">John Davidson.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Country_Faith" id="The_Country_Faith"></a><span class="smcap">The Country Faith</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Here in the country’s heart</div> -<div class="line">Where the grass is green,</div> -<div class="line">Life is the same sweet life</div> -<div class="line">As it e’er hath been</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_30" id="Page_30">30</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Trust in a God still lives,</div> -<div class="line">And the bell at morn</div> -<div class="line">Floats with a thought of God</div> -<div class="line">O’er the rising corn.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">God comes down in the rain,</div> -<div class="line">And the crop grows tall—</div> -<div class="line">This is the country faith,</div> -<div class="line">And the best of all.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Norman Gale.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Butterflys_Ball" id="The_Butterflys_Ball"></a><span class="smcap">The Butterfly’s Ball</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Come, take up your hats, and away let us haste</div> -<div class="line">To the Butterfly’s Ball and the Grasshopper’s Feast;</div> -<div class="line">The Trumpeter, Gadfly, has summoned the crew,</div> -<div class="line">And the revels are now only waiting for you.”</div> -<div class="line">So said little Robert, and pacing along,</div> -<div class="line">His merry Companions came forth in a throng,</div> -<div class="line">And on the smooth Grass by the side of a Wood,</div> -<div class="line">Beneath a broad oak that for ages had stood,</div> -<div class="line">Saw the Children of Earth and the Tenants of Air</div> -<div class="line">For an Evening’s Amusement together repair.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_31" id="Page_31">31</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And there came the Beetle, so blind and so black,</div> -<div class="line">Who carried the Emmet, his friend, on his back.</div> -<div class="line">And there was the Gnat and the Dragon-fly too,</div> -<div class="line">With all their Relations, green, orange and blue.</div> -<div class="line">And there came the Moth, with his plumage of down,</div> -<div class="line">And the Hornet in jacket of yellow and brown;</div> -<div class="line">Who with him the Wasp, his companion, did bring,</div> -<div class="line">But they promised that evening to lay by their sting.</div> -<div class="line">And the sly little Dormouse crept out of his hole,</div> -<div class="line">And brought to the feast his blind Brother, the Mole,</div> -<div class="line">And the Snail, with his horns peeping out of his shell,</div> -<div class="line">Came from a great distance, the length of an ell.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A Mushroom their Table, and on it was laid</div> -<div class="line">A water-dock leaf, which a table-cloth made.</div> -<div class="line">The Viands were various, to each of their taste,</div> -<div class="line">And the Bee brought her honey to crown the Repast.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_32" id="Page_32">32</a></span> -<div class="line">Then close on his haunches, so solemn and wise,</div> -<div class="line">The Frog from a corner look’d up to the skies;</div> -<div class="line">And the Squirrel, well pleased such diversions to see,</div> -<div class="line">Mounted high overhead and look’d down from a tree.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then out came the Spider, with finger so fine,</div> -<div class="line">To show his dexterity on the tight-line.</div> -<div class="line">From one branch to another his cobwebs he slung,</div> -<div class="line">Then quick as an arrow he darted along.</div> -<div class="line">But just in the middle—oh! shocking to tell,</div> -<div class="line">From his rope, in an instant, poor Harlequin fell.</div> -<div class="line">Yet he touched not the ground, but with talons outspread,</div> -<div class="line">Hung suspended in air, at the end of a thread.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then the Grasshopper came, with a jerk and a spring,</div> -<div class="line">Very long was his leg, though but short was his Wing;</div> -<div class="line">He took but three leaps, and was soon out of sight,</div> -<div class="line">Then chirp’d his own praises the rest of the night.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_33" id="Page_33">33</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">With step so majestic the Snail did advance,</div> -<div class="line">And promised the Gazers a Minuet to dance;</div> -<div class="line">But they all laughed so loud that he pulled in his head,</div> -<div class="line">And went in his own little chamber to bed.</div> -<div class="line">Then as Evening gave way to the shadows of Night,</div> -<div class="line">Their Watchman, the Glowworm, came out with a light.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Then home let us hasten, while yet we can see,</div> -<div class="line">For no Watchman is waiting for you and for me.”</div> -<div class="line">So said little Robert, and pacing along,</div> -<div class="line">His merry Companions return’d in a throng.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Roscoe.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="TASTES_AND_PREFERENCES" id="TASTES_AND_PREFERENCES"></a>TASTES AND PREFERENCES</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="A_Wish" id="A_Wish"></a><span class="smcap">A Wish</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Mine be a cot beside the hill;</div> -<div class="line indent2">A bee-hive’s hum shall soothe my ear;</div> -<div class="line">A willowy brook, that turns a mill,</div> -<div class="line indent2">With many a fall shall linger near.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_34" id="Page_34">34</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The swallow oft beneath my thatch</div> -<div class="line indent2">Shall twitter from her clay-built nest;</div> -<div class="line">Oft shall the pilgrim lift the latch</div> -<div class="line indent2">And share my meal, a welcome guest.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Around my ivied porch shall spring</div> -<div class="line indent2">Each fragrant flower that drinks the dew;</div> -<div class="line">And Lucy at her wheel shall sing</div> -<div class="line indent2">In russet gown and apron blue.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The village church among the trees,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where first our marriage vows were given,</div> -<div class="line">With merry peals shall swell the breeze,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And point with taper spire to Heaven.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Samuel Rogers.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Wishing" id="Wishing"></a><span class="smcap">Wishing</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ring-ting! I wish I were a Primrose,</div> -<div class="line">A bright yellow Primrose blowing in the Spring!</div> -<div class="line indent4">The stooping boughs above me,</div> -<div class="line indent4">The wandering bee to love me,</div> -<div class="line">The fern and moss to creep across,</div> -<div class="line indent10">And the Elm-tree for our King!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_35" id="Page_35">35</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Nay—stay! I wish I were an Elm-tree,</div> -<div class="line">A great lofty Elm-tree, with green leaves gay!</div> -<div class="line indent4">The winds would set them dancing,</div> -<div class="line indent4">The sun and moonshine glance in,</div> -<div class="line">The birds would house among the boughs,</div> -<div class="line indent10">And sweetly sing!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O—no! I wish I were a Robin,</div> -<div class="line">A Robin or a little Wren, everywhere to go;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Through forest, field, or garden,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And ask no leave or pardon,</div> -<div class="line">Till Winter comes with icy thumbs</div> -<div class="line indent10">To ruffle up our wing!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Well—tell! Where should I fly to,</div> -<div class="line">Where go to sleep in the dark wood or dell?</div> -<div class="line indent4">Before a day was over,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Home comes the rover,</div> -<div class="line">For Mother’s kiss,—sweeter this</div> -<div class="line indent10">Than any other thing!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Allingham.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Bunches_of_Grapes" id="Bunches_of_Grapes"></a><span class="smcap">Bunches of Grapes</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Bunches of grapes,” says Timothy;</div> -<div class="line">“Pomegranates pink,” says Elaine;</div> -<div class="line">“A junket of cream and a cranberry tart</div> -<div class="line">For me,” says Jane.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_36" id="Page_36">36</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Love-in-a-mist,” says Timothy;</div> -<div class="line">“Primroses pale,” says Elaine;</div> -<div class="line">“A nosegay of pinks and mignonette</div> -<div class="line">For me,” says Jane.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Chariots of gold,” says Timothy;</div> -<div class="line">“Silvery wings,” says Elaine;</div> -<div class="line">“A bumpity ride in a waggon of hay</div> -<div class="line">For me,” says Jane.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Walter Ramal.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Contentment" id="Contentment"></a><span class="smcap">Contentment</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Once on a time an old red hen</div> -<div class="line indent2">Went strutting round with pompous clucks,</div> -<div class="line">For she had little babies ten,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A part of which were tiny ducks.</div> -<div class="line">“’Tis very rare that hens,” said she,</div> -<div class="line indent2">“Have baby ducks as well as chicks—</div> -<div class="line">But I possess, as you can see,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of chickens four and ducklings six!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A season later, this old hen</div> -<div class="line indent2">Appeared, still cackling of her luck,</div> -<div class="line">For, though she boasted babies ten,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Not one among them was a duck!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_37" id="Page_37">37</a></span> -<div class="line">“’Tis well,” she murmured, brooding o’er</div> -<div class="line indent2">The little chicks of fleecy down,</div> -<div class="line">“My babies now will stay ashore,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And, consequently, cannot drown!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The following spring the old red hen</div> -<div class="line indent2">Clucked just as proudly as of yore—</div> -<div class="line">But lo! her babes were ducklings ten,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Instead of chickens as before!</div> -<div class="line">“’Tis better,” said the old red hen,</div> -<div class="line indent2">As she surveyed her waddling brood;</div> -<div class="line">“A little water now and then</div> -<div class="line indent2">Will surely do my darlings good!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But oh! alas, how very sad!</div> -<div class="line indent2">When gentle spring rolled round again,</div> -<div class="line">The eggs eventuated bad,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And childless was the old red hen!</div> -<div class="line">Yet patiently she bore her woe,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And still she wore a cheerful air,</div> -<div class="line">And said: “’Tis best these things are so,</div> -<div class="line indent2">For babies are a dreadful care!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I half suspect that many men,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And many, many women too,</div> -<div class="line">Could learn a lesson from the hen</div> -<div class="line indent2">With plumage of vermilion hue.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_38" id="Page_38">38</a></span> -<div class="line">She ne’er presumed to take offence</div> -<div class="line">At any fate that might befall,</div> -<div class="line">But meekly bowed to Providence—</div> -<div class="line">She was contented—that was all!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Eugene Field.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="TOYS_AND_PLAY_IN-DOORS_AND_OUT" id="TOYS_AND_PLAY_IN-DOORS_AND_OUT"></a>TOYS AND PLAY, IN-DOORS AND OUT</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Land_of_Story-Books" id="The_Land_of_Story-Books"></a><span class="smcap">The Land of Story-Books</span></h3> -</div> -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">At evening when the lamp is lit,</div> -<div class="line">Around the fire my parents sit;</div> -<div class="line">They sit at home and talk and sing,</div> -<div class="line">And do not play at anything.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Now, with my little gun, I crawl</div> -<div class="line">All in the dark along the wall,</div> -<div class="line">And follow round the forest track</div> -<div class="line">Away behind the sofa back.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There, in the night, where none can spy,</div> -<div class="line">All in my hunter’s camp I lie,</div> -<div class="line">And play at books that I have read</div> -<div class="line">Till it is time to go to bed.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_39" id="Page_39">39</a></span> -<div class="line">These are the hills, these are the woods,</div> -<div class="line">These are my starry solitudes;</div> -<div class="line">And there the river by whose brink</div> -<div class="line">The roaring lions come to drink.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I see the others far away</div> -<div class="line">As if in firelit camp they lay,</div> -<div class="line">And I, like to an Indian scout,</div> -<div class="line">Around their party prowled about.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">So, when my nurse comes in for me,</div> -<div class="line">Home I return across the sea,</div> -<div class="line">And go to bed with backward looks</div> -<div class="line">At my dear land of Story-books.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">R. L. Stevenson.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Sand_Castles" id="Sand_Castles"></a><span class="smcap">Sand Castles</span></h3> -</div> -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Build me a castle of sand</div> -<div class="line indent4">Down by the sea.</div> -<div class="line">Here on the edge of the strand</div> -<div class="line indent4">Build it for me.</div> -<div class="line">How shall a foeman invade,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Where may he land,</div> -<div class="line">While we can raise with our spade</div> -<div class="line indent4">Castles of sand?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_40" id="Page_40">40</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Turrets upleap and aspire,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Battlements rise</div> -<div class="line">Sweeping the sea with their fire,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Storming the skies.</div> -<div class="line">Pile that a monarch might own,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Mightily plann’d!</div> -<div class="line">I can’t sit here on a throne,</div> -<div class="line indent4">This is too grand.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Build me a cottage of sand</div> -<div class="line indent4">Up on the hill;</div> -<div class="line">Snug in a cleft it must stand</div> -<div class="line indent4">Sunny and still.</div> -<div class="line">Plant it with ragwort and ling,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Bramble and bine:</div> -<div class="line">Castles I’ll leave to the King,</div> -<div class="line indent4">This shall be mine.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Storm-clouds drive over the land,</div> -<div class="line indent4">High flies the spray;</div> -<div class="line">Gone are our houses of sand,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Vanished away!</div> -<div class="line">Look at the damage you’ve done,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Sea-wave and rain!</div> -<div class="line">—“Nay, we but give you your fun</div> -<div class="line indent4">Over again.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">W. Graham Robertson.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_41" id="Page_41">41</a></span> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Ring_o_Roses" id="Ring_o_Roses"></a><span class="smcap">Ring o’ Roses</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Hush a while, my darling, for the long day closes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Nodding into slumber on the blue hill’s crest.</div> -<div class="line">See the little clouds play Ring a ring o’ roses,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Planting Fairy gardens in the red-rose West.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Greet him for us, cloudlets, say we’re not forgetting</div> -<div class="line indent2">Golden gifts of sunshine, merry hours of play.</div> -<div class="line">Ring a ring o’ roses round the sweet sun’s setting,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Spread a bed of roses for the dear dead day.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Hush-a-bye, my little one, the dear day dozes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Doffed his crown of kingship and his fair flag furled,</div> -<div class="line">While the earth and sky play Ring a ring o’ roses,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Ring a ring o’ roses round the rose-red world.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">W. Graham Robertson.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_42" id="Page_42">42</a></span> -<h2><a name="DREAM-LAND" id="DREAM-LAND"></a>DREAM-LAND</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Wynken_Blynken_and_Nod" id="Wynken_Blynken_and_Nod"></a><span class="smcap">Wynken, Blynken, and Nod</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sailed off in a wooden shoe—</div> -<div class="line">Sailed on a river of crystal light,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Into a sea of dew.</div> -<div class="line">“Where are you going, and what do you wish?”</div> -<div class="line indent2">The old moon asked the three.</div> -<div class="line">“We have come to fish for the herring fish</div> -<div class="line indent2">That live in this beautiful sea;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Nets of silver and gold have we!”</div> -<div class="line indent14">Said Wynken,</div> -<div class="line indent14">Blynken,</div> -<div class="line indent14">And Nod.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The old moon laughed and sang a song,</div> -<div class="line indent2">As they rocked in the wooden shoe,</div> -<div class="line">And the wind that sped them all night long</div> -<div class="line indent2">Ruffled the waves of dew.</div> -<div class="line">The little stars were the herring fish</div> -<div class="line indent2">That lived in that beautiful sea—</div> -<div class="line">“Now cast your nets wherever you wish—</div> -<div class="line indent2">Never afeared are we”:</div> -<div class="line indent2">So cried the stars to the fishermen three:</div> -<div class="line indent14">Wynken,</div> -<div class="line indent14">Blynken,</div> -<div class="line indent14">And Nod.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_43" id="Page_43">43</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">All night long their nets they threw</div> -<div class="line indent2">To the stars in the twinkling foam—</div> -<div class="line">Then down from the skies came the wooden shoe,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Bringing the fishermen home;</div> -<div class="line">’Twas all so pretty a sail it seemed</div> -<div class="line indent2">As if it could not be,</div> -<div class="line">And some folks thought ’twas a dream they’d dreamed</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of sailing that beautiful sea—</div> -<div class="line indent2">But I shall name you the fishermen three:</div> -<div class="line indent14">Wynken,</div> -<div class="line indent14">Blynken,</div> -<div class="line indent14">And Nod.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Wynken and Blynken are two little eyes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And Nod is a little head,</div> -<div class="line">And the wooden shoe that sailed the skies</div> -<div class="line indent2">Is a wee one’s trundle-bed.</div> -<div class="line">So shut your eyes while mother sings</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of wonderful sights that be,</div> -<div class="line">And you shall see the beautiful things</div> -<div class="line indent2">As you rock in the misty sea,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where the old shoe rocked the fishermen three:</div> -<div class="line indent14">Wynken,</div> -<div class="line indent14">Blynken,</div> -<div class="line indent14">And Nod.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Eugene Field.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_44" id="Page_44">44</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Drummer-Boy_and_the_Sheperdess" id="The_Drummer-Boy_and_the_Sheperdess"></a><span class="smcap">The Drummer-Boy and the Sheperdess</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Drummer-boy, drummer-boy, where is your drum?</div> -<div class="line">And why do you weep, sitting here on your thumb?</div> -<div class="line">The soldiers are out, and the fifes we can hear;</div> -<div class="line">But where is the drum of the young grenadier?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“My dear little drum it was stolen away</div> -<div class="line">Whilst I was asleep on a sunshiny day;</div> -<div class="line">It was all through the drone of a big bumblebee,</div> -<div class="line">And sheep and a shepherdess under a tree.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Shepherdess, shepherdess, where is your crook?</div> -<div class="line">And why is your little lamb over the brook?</div> -<div class="line">It bleats for its dam, and dog Tray is not by,</div> -<div class="line">So why do you stand with a tear in your eye?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“My dear little crook it was stolen away</div> -<div class="line">Whilst I dreamt a dream on a morning in May;</div> -<div class="line">It was all through the drone of a big bumblebee,</div> -<div class="line">And a drum and a drummer-boy under a tree.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">W. B. Rands.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_45" id="Page_45">45</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Land_of_Dreams" id="The_Land_of_Dreams"></a><span class="smcap">The Land of Dreams</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Awake, awake, my little boy!</div> -<div class="line">Thou wast thy mother’s only joy;</div> -<div class="line">Why dost thou weep in thy gentle sleep?</div> -<div class="line">O wake! thy father doth thee keep.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O what land is the land of dreams?</div> -<div class="line">What are its mountains and what are its streams?”</div> -<div class="line">“O father! I saw my mother there,</div> -<div class="line">Among the lilies by waters fair.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Dear child! I also by pleasant streams</div> -<div class="line">Have wandered all night in the land of dreams,</div> -<div class="line">But, though calm and warm the waters wide</div> -<div class="line">I could not get to the other side.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Father, O father! what do we here,</div> -<div class="line">In this land of unbelief and fear?</div> -<div class="line">The land of dreams is better far,</div> -<div class="line">Above the light of the morning star.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Blake.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Sweet_and_Low" id="Sweet_and_Low"></a><span class="smcap">Sweet and Low</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Sweet and low, sweet and low,</div> -<div class="line">Wind of the western sea,</div> -<div class="line">Low, low, breathe and blow,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Wind of the western sea!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_46" id="Page_46">46</a></span> -<div class="line">Over the rolling waters go,</div> -<div class="line">Come from the dying moon, and blow,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Blow him again to me;</div> -<div class="line">While my little one, while my pretty one, sleeps.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Sleep and rest, sleep and rest,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Father will come to thee soon;</div> -<div class="line">Rest, rest, on mother’s breast,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Father will come to thee soon;</div> -<div class="line">Father will come to his babe in the nest,</div> -<div class="line">Silver sails all out of the west</div> -<div class="line indent2">Under the silver moon:</div> -<div class="line">Sleep, my little one, sleep, my pretty one, sleep.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Alfred, Lord Tennyson.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Cradle_Song2" id="Cradle_Song2"></a><span class="smcap">Cradle Song</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight,</div> -<div class="line">Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright;</div> -<div class="line">The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see,</div> -<div class="line">They all are belonging, dear baby, to thee.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O fear not the bugle, though loudly it blows,</div> -<div class="line">It calls but the warders that guard thy repose;</div> -<div class="line">Their bows would be bended, their blades would be red,</div> -<div class="line">Ere the step of a foeman draws near to thy bed.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_47" id="Page_47">47</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O hush thee, my baby, the time will soon come,</div> -<div class="line">When thy sleep shall be broken by trumpet and drum;</div> -<div class="line">Then hush thee, my darling, take rest while you may,</div> -<div class="line">For strife comes with manhood, and waking with day.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Sir Walter Scott.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Mother_and_I" id="Mother_and_I"></a><span class="smcap">Mother and I</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O Mother-My-Love, if you’ll give me your hand,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And go where I ask you to wander,</div> -<div class="line">I will lead you away to a beautiful land—</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder.</div> -<div class="line">We’ll walk in a sweet-posy garden out there,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where moonlight and starlight are streaming,</div> -<div class="line">And the flowers and the birds are filling the air</div> -<div class="line indent2">With the fragrance and music of dreaming.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There’ll be no little tired-out boy to undress,</div> -<div class="line indent2">No questions or cares to perplex you;</div> -<div class="line">There’ll be no little bruises or bumps to caress,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Nor patching of stockings to vex you.</div> -<div class="line">For I’ll rock you away on a silver-dew stream,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And sing you asleep when you’re weary,</div> -<div class="line">And no one shall know of our beautiful dream</div> -<div class="line indent2">But you and your own little dearie.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_48" id="Page_48">48</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And when I am tired I’ll nestle my head</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the bosom that’s sooth’d me so often,</div> -<div class="line">And the wide-awake stars shall sing in my stead</div> -<div class="line indent2">A song which our dreaming shall soften.</div> -<div class="line">So Mother-My-Love, let me take your dear hand,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And away through the starlight we’ll wander—</div> -<div class="line">Away through the mist to the beautiful land—</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Dreamland that’s waiting out yonder!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Eugene Field.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="FAIRY-LAND" id="FAIRY-LAND"></a>FAIRY-LAND</h2> -</div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Fairies" id="The_Fairies"></a><span class="smcap">The Fairies</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Up the airy mountain,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Down the rushy glen,</div> -<div class="line">We daren’t go a-hunting</div> -<div class="line indent2">For fear of little men;</div> -<div class="line">Wee folk, good folk,</div> -<div class="line">Trooping all together;</div> -<div class="line">Green jacket, red cap,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And white owl’s feather!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_49" id="Page_49">49</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Down along the rocky shore</div> -<div class="line indent2">Some make their home,</div> -<div class="line">They live on crispy pancakes</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of yellow tide-foam;</div> -<div class="line">Some in the reeds</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of the black mountain-lake,</div> -<div class="line">With frogs for their watch-dogs,</div> -<div class="line indent2">All night awake.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">High on the hill-top</div> -<div class="line">The old King sits;</div> -<div class="line">He is now so old and grey</div> -<div class="line indent2">He’s nigh lost his wits.</div> -<div class="line">With a bridge of white mist</div> -<div class="line indent2">Columbkill he crosses,</div> -<div class="line">On his stately journeys</div> -<div class="line indent2">From Slieveleague to Rosses;</div> -<div class="line">Or going up with music</div> -<div class="line indent2">On cold starry nights,</div> -<div class="line">To sup with the Queen</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of the gay Northern Lights.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They stole little Bridget</div> -<div class="line indent2">For seven years long;</div> -<div class="line">When she came down again</div> -<div class="line indent2">Her friends were all gone.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_50" id="Page_50">50</a></span> -<div class="line">They took her lightly back,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Between the night and morrow,</div> -<div class="line">They thought that she was fast asleep,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But she was dead with sorrow.</div> -<div class="line">They have kept her ever since</div> -<div class="line indent2">Deep within the lakes,</div> -<div class="line">On a bed of flag-leaves,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Watching till she wakes.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">By the craggy hill-side,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Through the mosses bare,</div> -<div class="line">They have planted thorn-trees</div> -<div class="line indent2">For pleasure here and there.</div> -<div class="line">Is any man so daring</div> -<div class="line indent2">As dig one up in spite,</div> -<div class="line">He shall find their sharpest thorns</div> -<div class="line indent2">In his bed at night.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Up the airy mountain,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Down the rushy glen,</div> -<div class="line">We daren’t go a-hunting</div> -<div class="line indent2">For fear of little men;</div> -<div class="line">Wee folk, good folk,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Trooping all together,</div> -<div class="line">Green jacket, red cap,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And white owl’s feather!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Allingham.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_51" id="Page_51">51</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Shakespeares_Fairies" id="Shakespeares_Fairies"></a><span class="smcap">Shakespeare’s Fairies</span></h3> - -<p class="noi"><em>Some of them</em>,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves,</div> -<div class="line">And ye that on the sands with printless foot</div> -<div class="line">Do chase the ebbing Neptune and do fly him</div> -<div class="line">When he comes back; you demi-puppets<a name="FNanchor_2_2" id="FNanchor_2_2"></a><a href="#Footnote_2_2" class="fnanchor">[2]</a>, that</div> -<div class="line">By moonshine do the green sour ringlets make</div> -<div class="line">Whereof the ewe not bites, and you whose pastime</div> -<div class="line">Is to make midnight mushrooms, that rejoice</div> -<div class="line">To hear the solemn curfew....</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="noi"><em>They Dance and Play</em>,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Come unto these yellow sands,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And then take hands:</div> -<div class="line">Courtsied when you have, and kiss’d,—</div> -<div class="line indent2">The wild waves whist<a name="FNanchor_3_3" id="FNanchor_3_3"></a><a href="#Footnote_3_3" class="fnanchor">[3]</a>,—</div> -<div class="line">Foot it featly<a name="FNanchor_4_4" id="FNanchor_4_4"></a><a href="#Footnote_4_4" class="fnanchor">[4]</a> here and there;</div> -<div class="line indent2">And, sweet sprites, the burthen bear.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hark, hark!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_52" id="Page_52">52</a></span> -<div class="line indent14"><em>Bow, wow</em>,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The watch-dogs bark:</div> -<div class="line indent14"><em>Bow, wow</em>,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hark, hark! I hear</div> -<div class="line">The strain of strutting chanticleer</div> -<div class="line">Cry, Cock-a-diddle-dow!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="noi"><em>Ariel Sings</em>,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Where the bee sucks, there suck I:</div> -<div class="line indent2">In a cowslip’s bell I lie;</div> -<div class="line">There I couch when owls do cry.</div> -<div class="line">On the bat’s back I do fly</div> -<div class="line">After summer merrily.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Merrily, merrily, shall I live now,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Under the blossom that hangs on the bough.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="noi"><em>A Busy One</em></p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Over hill, over dale,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Thorough bush, thorough brier,</div> -<div class="line">Over park, over pale,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Thorough flood, thorough fire,</div> -<div class="line indent2">I do wander everywhere,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Swifter than the moonè’s sphere;</div> -<div class="line indent2">And I serve the fairy queen,</div> -<div class="line indent2">To dew her orbs<a name="FNanchor_5_5" id="FNanchor_5_5"></a><a href="#Footnote_5_5" class="fnanchor">[5]</a> upon the green.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_53" id="Page_53">53</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">The cowslips tall her pensioners be;</div> -<div class="line indent2">In their gold coats spots you see;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Those be rubies, fairy favours,</div> -<div class="line indent2">In those freckles live their savours:</div> -<div class="line">I must go seek some dewdrops here,</div> -<div class="line">And hang a pearl in every cowslip’s ear.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="noi"><em>They Sing Their Queen to Sleep</em>,—</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">You spotted snakes with double tongue,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Newts and blind-worms, do no wrong;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Come not near our fairy queen.</div> -<div class="line indent6">Philomel, with melody</div> -<div class="line indent6">Sing in our sweet lullaby;</div> -<div class="line">Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby!</div> -<div class="line indent6">Never harm,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Nor spell nor charm,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Come our lovely lady nigh;</div> -<div class="line indent4">So, good night, with lullaby.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Weaving spiders, come not here;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Hence, you long-legg’d spinners, hence!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Beetles black, approach not near;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Worm nor snail, do no offence.</div> -<div class="line indent6">Philomel, with melody,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Sing in our sweet lullaby;</div> -<div class="line">Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_54" id="Page_54">54</a></span> -<div class="line indent6">Never harm,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Nor spell nor charm,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Come our lovely lady nigh;</div> -<div class="line indent4">So, good night, with lullaby.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Shakespeare.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_2_2" id="Footnote_2_2"></a><a href="#FNanchor_2_2"><span class="label">[2]</span></a> <em>Demi-puppets</em>: half the size of a doll.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_3_3" id="Footnote_3_3"></a><a href="#FNanchor_3_3"><span class="label">[3]</span></a> <em>Whist</em>: silent.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_4_4" id="Footnote_4_4"></a><a href="#FNanchor_4_4"><span class="label">[4]</span></a> <em>Featly</em>: neatly, elegantly.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_5_5" id="Footnote_5_5"></a><a href="#FNanchor_5_5"><span class="label">[5]</span></a> <em>Orbs</em>: circles, or fairy rings.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Lavender_Beds" id="The_Lavender_Beds"></a><span class="smcap">The Lavender Beds</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The garden was pleasant with old-fashioned flowers,</div> -<div class="line">The sunflowers and hollyhocks stood up like towers;</div> -<div class="line">There were dark turncap lilies and jessamine rare,</div> -<div class="line">And sweet thyme and marjoram scented the air.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The moon made the sun-dial tell the time wrong;</div> -<div class="line">’Twas too late in the year for the nightingale’s song;</div> -<div class="line">The box-trees were clipped, and the alleys were straight,</div> -<div class="line">Till you came to the shrubbery hard by the gate.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The fairies stepped out of the lavender beds,</div> -<div class="line">With mob-caps, or wigs, on their quaint little heads;</div> -<div class="line">My lord had a sword and my lady a fan;</div> -<div class="line">The music struck up and the dancing began.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_55" id="Page_55">55</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I watched them go through with a grave minuet;</div> -<div class="line">Wherever they footed the dew was not wet;</div> -<div class="line">They bowed and they curtsied, the brave and the fair;</div> -<div class="line">And laughter like chirping of crickets was there.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then all on a sudden a church clock struck loud:</div> -<div class="line">A flutter, a shiver, was seen in the crowd,</div> -<div class="line">The cock crew, the wind woke, the trees tossed their heads,</div> -<div class="line">And the fairy folk hid in the lavender beds.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">W. B. Rands.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Farewell_to_the_Fairies" id="Farewell_to_the_Fairies"></a><span class="smcap">Farewell to the Fairies</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Farewell rewards and fairies,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Good housewives now may say,</div> -<div class="line">For now foul sluts in dairies</div> -<div class="line indent2">Do fare as well as they.</div> -<div class="line">And though they sweep their hearths no less</div> -<div class="line indent2">Than maids were wont to do,</div> -<div class="line">Yet who of late, for cleanliness,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Finds sixpence in her shoe?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_56" id="Page_56">56</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">At morning and at evening both,</div> -<div class="line indent2">You merry were and glad,</div> -<div class="line">So little care of sleep or sloth</div> -<div class="line indent2">Those pretty ladies had.</div> -<div class="line">When Tom came home from labour,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Or Cis to milking rose,</div> -<div class="line">Then merrily went their tabor,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And nimbly went their toes.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Witness those rings and roundelays</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of theirs, which yet remain,</div> -<div class="line">Were footed in Queen Mary’s days</div> -<div class="line indent2">On many a grassy plain;</div> -<div class="line">But since of late Elizabeth,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And later, James came in,</div> -<div class="line">They never danced on any heath</div> -<div class="line indent2">As when the time hath been.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">By which we note the fairies</div> -<div class="line indent2">Were of the old profession,</div> -<div class="line">Their songs were Ave-Maries,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Their dances were procession:</div> -<div class="line">But now, alas! they all are dead,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Or gone beyond the seas;</div> -<div class="line">Or farther for religion fled,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Or else they take their ease.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_57" id="Page_57">57</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A tell-tale in their company</div> -<div class="line indent2">They never could endure,</div> -<div class="line">And whoso kept not secretly</div> -<div class="line indent2">Their mirth, was punished sure;</div> -<div class="line">It was a just and Christian deed</div> -<div class="line indent2">To pinch such black and blue:</div> -<div class="line">O how the commonwealth doth need</div> -<div class="line indent2">Such justices as you!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Richard Corbet (1582–1635).</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Dirge_on_the_Death_of_Oberon_the_Fairy_King" id="Dirge_on_the_Death_of_Oberon_the_Fairy_King"></a><span class="smcap">Dirge on the Death of Oberon, the Fairy King</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Toll the lilies’ silver bells!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Oberon, the King, is dead!</div> -<div class="line">In her grief the crimson rose</div> -<div class="line indent2">All her velvet leaves has shed.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Toll the lilies’ silver bells!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Oberon is dead and gone!</div> -<div class="line">He who looked an emperor</div> -<div class="line indent2">When his glow-worm crown was on.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Toll the lilies’ silver bells!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Slay the dragonfly, his steed;</div> -<div class="line">Dig his grave within the ring</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of the mushrooms in the mead.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">G. W. Thornbury.</p> - -<p>(<em>But he wasn’t dead really. It was all a mistake. So they didn’t slay -the dragonfly after all.</em>)</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_58" id="Page_58">58</a></span> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Kilmeny" id="Kilmeny"></a><span class="smcap">Kilmeny</span></h3> -</div> -<p class="center">(<em>A Story about one who went there</em>)</p> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Bonny Kilmeny gaed<a name="FNanchor_6_6" id="FNanchor_6_6"></a><a href="#Footnote_6_6" class="fnanchor">[6]</a> up the glen;</div> -<div class="line">But it wasna to meet Duneira’s men,</div> -<div class="line">Nor the rosy monk of the isle to see,</div> -<div class="line">For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be.</div> -<div class="line">It was only to hear the yorlin<a name="FNanchor_7_7" id="FNanchor_7_7"></a><a href="#Footnote_7_7" class="fnanchor">[7]</a> sing,</div> -<div class="line">And pull the blue cress-flower round the spring;</div> -<div class="line">To pull the hip and the hindberrye<a name="FNanchor_8_8" id="FNanchor_8_8"></a><a href="#Footnote_8_8" class="fnanchor">[8]</a>,</div> -<div class="line">And the nut that hung frae the hazel-tree;</div> -<div class="line">For Kilmeny was pure as pure could be.</div> -<div class="line">But lang may her minnie<a name="FNanchor_9_9" id="FNanchor_9_9"></a><a href="#Footnote_9_9" class="fnanchor">[9]</a> look o’er the wa’,</div> -<div class="line">And lang may she seek in the greenwood shaw;</div> -<div class="line">Lang the Laird o’ Duneira blame,</div> -<div class="line">And lang, lang greet<a name="FNanchor_10_10" id="FNanchor_10_10"></a><a href="#Footnote_10_10" class="fnanchor">[10]</a> e’er Kilmeny come hame!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When many a day had come and fled,</div> -<div class="line">When grief grew calm, and hope was dead,</div> -<div class="line">When mass for Kilmeny’s soul had been sung,</div> -<div class="line">When the bedesman had prayed and the dead-bell rung;</div> -<div class="line">Late, late in a gloaming, when all was still,</div> -<div class="line">When the fringe was red on the westlin<a name="FNanchor_11_11" id="FNanchor_11_11"></a><a href="#Footnote_11_11" class="fnanchor">[11]</a> hill,</div> -<div class="line">The wood was sere, the moon i’ the wane,</div> -<div class="line">The reek<a name="FNanchor_12_12" id="FNanchor_12_12"></a><a href="#Footnote_12_12" class="fnanchor">[12]</a> of the cot hung o’er the plain,</div> -<div class="line">Like a little wee cloud in the world its lane<a name="FNanchor_13_13" id="FNanchor_13_13"></a><a href="#Footnote_13_13" class="fnanchor">[13]</a>;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_59" id="Page_59">59</a></span> -<div class="line">When the ingle<a name="FNanchor_14_14" id="FNanchor_14_14"></a><a href="#Footnote_14_14" class="fnanchor">[14]</a> lowed<a name="FNanchor_15_15" id="FNanchor_15_15"></a><a href="#Footnote_15_15" class="fnanchor">[15]</a> with an eery gleam,</div> -<div class="line">Late, late in the gloamin’, Kilmeny came hame!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been?</div> -<div class="line">Lang hae we sought baith holt and dene;</div> -<div class="line">By linn<a name="FNanchor_16_16" id="FNanchor_16_16"></a><a href="#Footnote_16_16" class="fnanchor">[16]</a>, by ford, and green-wood tree,</div> -<div class="line">Yet you are halesome and fair to see.</div> -<div class="line">Where gat you that joup<a name="FNanchor_17_17" id="FNanchor_17_17"></a><a href="#Footnote_17_17" class="fnanchor">[17]</a> of the lily sheen?</div> -<div class="line">That bonny snood<a name="FNanchor_18_18" id="FNanchor_18_18"></a><a href="#Footnote_18_18" class="fnanchor">[18]</a> of the birk<a name="FNanchor_19_19" id="FNanchor_19_19"></a><a href="#Footnote_19_19" class="fnanchor">[19]</a> sae green?</div> -<div class="line">And these roses, the fairest that ever were seen?</div> -<div class="line">Kilmeny, Kilmeny, where have you been?”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Kilmeny look’d up with a lovely grace,</div> -<div class="line">But nae smile was seen on Kilmeny’s face;</div> -<div class="line">As still was her look, and as still was her ee,</div> -<div class="line">As the stillness that lay on the emerald lea,</div> -<div class="line">Or the mist that sleeps on a waveless sea.</div> -<div class="line">For Kilmeny had been she knew not where,</div> -<div class="line">And Kilmeny had seen what she could not declare.</div> -<div class="line">Kilmeny had been where the cock never crew,</div> -<div class="line">Where the rain never fell, and the wind never blew.</div> -<div class="line">But it seem’d as the harp of the sky had rung,</div> -<div class="line">And the airs of heaven play’d round her tongue,</div> -<div class="line">When she spake of the lovely forms she had seen,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_60" id="Page_60">60</a></span> -<div class="line">And a land where sin had never been;</div> -<div class="line">A land of love and a land of light,</div> -<div class="line">Withouten sun, or moon, or night;</div> -<div class="line">The land of vision it would seem,</div> -<div class="line">And still an everlasting dream.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<p class="nmt nmb spaced">......</p> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They lifted Kilmeny, they led her away,</div> -<div class="line">And she walk’d in the light of a sunless day;</div> -<div class="line">The sky was a dome of crystal bright,</div> -<div class="line">The fountain of vision, and fountain of light:</div> -<div class="line">The emerald fields were of dazzling glow,</div> -<div class="line">And the flowers of everlasting blow.</div> -<div class="line">Then deep in the stream her body they laid,</div> -<div class="line">That her youth and beauty might never fade;</div> -<div class="line">And they smiled on heaven, when they saw her lie</div> -<div class="line">In the stream of life that wander’d by.</div> -<div class="line">And she heard a song, she heard it sung,</div> -<div class="line">She kenn’d not where; but so sweetly it rung,</div> -<div class="line">It fell on the ear like a dream of the morn:</div> -<div class="line">“O blest be the day Kilmeny was born!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<p class="nmt nmb spaced">......</p> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">To sing of the sights Kilmeny saw,</div> -<div class="line">So far surpassing nature’s law,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_61" id="Page_61">61</a></span> -<div class="line">The singer’s voice would sink away,</div> -<div class="line">And the string of his harp would cease to play.</div> -<div class="line">But she saw till the sorrows of man were by,</div> -<div class="line">And all was love and harmony;</div> -<div class="line">Till the stars of heaven fell calmly away,</div> -<div class="line">Like the flakes of snow on a winter day.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<p class="nmt nmb spaced">......</p> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When seven lang years had come and fled,</div> -<div class="line">When grief was calm and hope was dead;</div> -<div class="line">When scarce was remembered Kilmeny’s name,</div> -<div class="line">Late, late in a gloaming Kilmeny came hame!</div> -<div class="line">And O, her beauty was fair to see,</div> -<div class="line">But still and steadfast was her ee!</div> -<div class="line">Her seymar<a name="FNanchor_20_20" id="FNanchor_20_20"></a><a href="#Footnote_20_20" class="fnanchor">[20]</a> was the lily flower,</div> -<div class="line">And her cheek the moss-rose in the shower;</div> -<div class="line">And her voice like the distant melody</div> -<div class="line">That floats along the twilight sea.</div> -<div class="line">But she loved to raike<a name="FNanchor_21_21" id="FNanchor_21_21"></a><a href="#Footnote_21_21" class="fnanchor">[21]</a> the lanely glen,</div> -<div class="line">And keepit away frae the haunts of men;</div> -<div class="line">Her holy hymns unheard to sing,</div> -<div class="line">To suck the flowers, and drink the spring.</div> -<div class="line">But wherever her peaceful form appear’d,</div> -<div class="line">The wild beasts of the hill were cheer’d;</div> -<div class="line">The wolf play’d blythly round the field,</div> -<div class="line">The lordly bison low’d and kneel’d;</div> -<div class="line">The dun deer woo’d with manner bland,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_62" id="Page_62">62</a></span> -<div class="line">And cower’d aneath her lily hand.</div> -<div class="line">And all in a peaceful ring were hurl’d;</div> -<div class="line">It was like an eve in a sinless world!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When a month and a day had come and gane,</div> -<div class="line">Kilmeny sought the green-wood wene;</div> -<div class="line">There laid her down on the leaves sae green,</div> -<div class="line">And Kilmeny on earth was never mair seen.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">James Hogg.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_6_6" id="Footnote_6_6"></a><a href="#FNanchor_6_6"><span class="label">[6]</span></a> <em>gaed</em>: went.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_7_7" id="Footnote_7_7"></a><a href="#FNanchor_7_7"><span class="label">[7]</span></a> <em>yorlin</em>: yellow-hammer.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_8_8" id="Footnote_8_8"></a><a href="#FNanchor_8_8"><span class="label">[8]</span></a> <em>hindberrye</em>: wild raspberry.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_9_9" id="Footnote_9_9"></a><a href="#FNanchor_9_9"><span class="label">[9]</span></a> <em>minnie</em>: mother.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_10_10" id="Footnote_10_10"></a><a href="#FNanchor_10_10"><span class="label">[10]</span></a> <em>greet</em>: weep.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_11_11" id="Footnote_11_11"></a><a href="#FNanchor_11_11"><span class="label">[11]</span></a> <em>westlin</em>: western.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_12_12" id="Footnote_12_12"></a><a href="#FNanchor_12_12"><span class="label">[12]</span></a> <em>reek</em>: smoke.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_13_13" id="Footnote_13_13"></a><a href="#FNanchor_13_13"><span class="label">[13]</span></a> <em>its lane</em>: alone.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_14_14" id="Footnote_14_14"></a><a href="#FNanchor_14_14"><span class="label">[14]</span></a> <em>ingle</em>: fire.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_15_15" id="Footnote_15_15"></a><a href="#FNanchor_15_15"><span class="label">[15]</span></a> <em>lowed</em>: flamed.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_16_16" id="Footnote_16_16"></a><a href="#FNanchor_16_16"><span class="label">[16]</span></a> <em>linn</em>: waterfall.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_17_17" id="Footnote_17_17"></a><a href="#FNanchor_17_17"><span class="label">[17]</span></a> <em>joup</em>: bodice.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_18_18" id="Footnote_18_18"></a><a href="#FNanchor_18_18"><span class="label">[18]</span></a> <em>snood</em>: hair-ribbon.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_19_19" id="Footnote_19_19"></a><a href="#FNanchor_19_19"><span class="label">[19]</span></a> <em>birk</em>: birch.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_20_20" id="Footnote_20_20"></a><a href="#FNanchor_20_20"><span class="label">[20]</span></a> <em>seymar</em>: a light robe.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_21_21" id="Footnote_21_21"></a><a href="#FNanchor_21_21"><span class="label">[21]</span></a> <em>raike</em>: wander through.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="TWO_SONGS" id="TWO_SONGS"></a>TWO SONGS</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="A_Boys_Song" id="A_Boys_Song"></a><span class="smcap">A Boy’s Song</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Where the pools are bright and deep,</div> -<div class="line">Where the grey trout lies asleep,</div> -<div class="line">Up the river and over the lea,</div> -<div class="line">That’s the way for Billy and me.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Where the blackbird sings the latest,</div> -<div class="line">Where the hawthorn blooms the sweetest,</div> -<div class="line">Where the nestlings chirp and flee,</div> -<div class="line">That’s the way for Billy and me.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Where the mowers mow the cleanest,</div> -<div class="line">Where the hay lies thick and greenest,</div> -<div class="line">There to track the homeward bee,</div> -<div class="line">That’s the way for Billy and me.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_63" id="Page_63">63</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Where the hazel bank is steepest,</div> -<div class="line">Where the shadow falls the deepest,</div> -<div class="line">Where the clustering nuts fall free,</div> -<div class="line">That’s the way for Billy and me.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Why the boys should drive away</div> -<div class="line">Little sweet maidens from the play,</div> -<div class="line">Or love to banter and fight so well,</div> -<div class="line">That’s the thing I never could tell.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But this I know, I love to play</div> -<div class="line">Through the meadow, among the hay;</div> -<div class="line">Up the water and over the lea,</div> -<div class="line">That’s the way for Billy and me.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">James Hogg.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="A_Girls_Song" id="A_Girls_Song"></a><span class="smcap">A Girl’s Song</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the nightingale sings round it all the day long;</div> -<div class="line">In the time of my childhood ’twas like a sweet dream</div> -<div class="line indent2">To sit in the roses and hear the bird’s song.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">That bower and its music I never forget,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But oft when alone in the bloom of the year,</div> -<div class="line">I think—is the nightingale singing there yet?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_64" id="Page_64">64</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">No, the roses soon withered that hung o’er the wave,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But some blossoms were gathered, while freshly they shone,</div> -<div class="line">And a dew was distilled from their flowers, that gave</div> -<div class="line indent2">All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies,</div> -<div class="line indent2">An essence that breathes of it many a year;</div> -<div class="line">Thus bright to my soul, as ’twas then to my eyes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Thomas Moore.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="FUR_AND_FEATHER" id="FUR_AND_FEATHER"></a>FUR AND FEATHER</h2> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“<em>Men are brethren of each other,</em></div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>One in flesh and one in food;</em></div> -<div class="line"><em>And a sort of foster brother</em></div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Is the litter, or the brood,</em></div> -<div class="line"><em>Of that folk in fur or feather,</em></div> -<div class="line indent4"><em>Who, with men together,</em></div> -<div class="line indent4"><em>Breast the wind and weather.</em>”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Christina Rossetti.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_65" id="Page_65">65</a></span> -</div> - - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Three_Things_to_Remember" id="Three_Things_to_Remember"></a><span class="smcap">Three Things to Remember</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A Robin Redbreast in a cage</div> -<div class="line">Puts all Heaven in a rage.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A skylark wounded on the wing</div> -<div class="line">Doth make a cherub cease to sing.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">He who shall hurt the little wren</div> -<div class="line">Shall never be beloved by men.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Blake.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Knight_of_Bethlehem" id="The_Knight_of_Bethlehem"></a><span class="smcap">The Knight of Bethlehem</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There was a Knight of Bethlehem,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Whose wealth was tears and sorrows;</div> -<div class="line">His men-at-arms were little lambs,</div> -<div class="line indent2">His trumpeters were sparrows.</div> -<div class="line">His castle was a wooden cross,</div> -<div class="line indent2">On which he hung so high;</div> -<div class="line">His helmet was a crown of thorns,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Whose crest did touch the sky.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">H. N. Maugham.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Lamb" id="The_Lamb"></a><span class="smcap">The Lamb</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Little Lamb, who made thee?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Dost thou know who made thee?</div> -<div class="line">Gave thee life, and bade thee feed</div> -<div class="line">By the stream and o’er the mead;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_66" id="Page_66">66</a></span> -<div class="line">Gave thee clothing of delight,</div> -<div class="line">Softest clothing, woolly, bright;</div> -<div class="line">Gave thee such a tender voice,</div> -<div class="line">Making all the vales rejoice?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Little lamb, who made thee?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Dost thou know who made thee?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Little lamb, I’ll tell thee;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Little lamb, I’ll tell thee:</div> -<div class="line">He is callèd by thy name,</div> -<div class="line">For He calls Himself a Lamb.</div> -<div class="line">He is meek, and He is mild,</div> -<div class="line">He became a little child.</div> -<div class="line">I a child, and thou a lamb,</div> -<div class="line">We are called by His name.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Little lamb, God bless thee!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Little lamb, God bless thee!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Blake.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Tiger" id="The_Tiger"></a><span class="smcap">The Tiger</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Tiger, Tiger, burning bright</div> -<div class="line">In the forest of the night,</div> -<div class="line">What immortal hand or eye</div> -<div class="line">Framed thy fearful symmetry?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_67" id="Page_67">67</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In what distant deeps or skies</div> -<div class="line">Burned that fire within thine eyes?</div> -<div class="line">On what wings dared he aspire?</div> -<div class="line">What the hand dared seize the fire?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And what shoulder, and what art,</div> -<div class="line">Could twist the sinews of thy heart?</div> -<div class="line">When thy heart began to beat,</div> -<div class="line">What dread hand formed thy dread feet?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">What the hammer, what the chain,</div> -<div class="line">Knit thy strength and forged thy brain?</div> -<div class="line">What the anvil? What dread grasp</div> -<div class="line">Dared thy deadly terrors clasp?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When the stars threw down their spears,</div> -<div class="line">And water’d heaven with their tears,</div> -<div class="line">Did He smile His work to see?</div> -<div class="line">Did He who made the lamb make thee?</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Blake.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="I_had_a_Dove" id="I_had_a_Dove"></a><span class="smcap">I had a Dove</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I had a dove, and the sweet dove died;</div> -<div class="line indent2">And I have thought it died of grieving;</div> -<div class="line">O, what could it grieve for? Its feet were tied</div> -<div class="line indent2">With a silken thread of my own hands’ weaving.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_68" id="Page_68">68</a></span> -<div class="line">Sweet little red feet! why should you die—</div> -<div class="line">Why would you leave me, sweet bird! why?</div> -<div class="line">You lived alone in the forest tree,</div> -<div class="line">Why, pretty thing! would you not live with me?</div> -<div class="line">I kiss’d you oft and gave you white peas;</div> -<div class="line">Why not live sweetly, as in the green trees?</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">John Keats.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Robin_Redbreast" id="Robin_Redbreast"></a><span class="smcap">Robin Redbreast</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Good-bye, good-bye to Summer!</div> -<div class="line indent2">For Summer’s nearly done;</div> -<div class="line">The garden smiling faintly,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Cool breezes in the sun;</div> -<div class="line">Our thrushes now are silent,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Our swallows flown away,—</div> -<div class="line">But Robin’s here in coat of brown,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And scarlet breast-knot gay.</div> -<div class="line">Robin, Robin Redbreast,</div> -<div class="line indent2">O Robin dear!</div> -<div class="line">Robin sings so sweetly</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the falling of the year.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Bright yellow, red, and orange,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The leaves come down in hosts;</div> -<div class="line">The trees are Indian princes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But soon they’ll turn to ghosts;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_69" id="Page_69">69</a></span> -<div class="line">The leathery pears and apples</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hang russet on the bough;</div> -<div class="line">It’s Autumn, Autumn, Autumn late,</div> -<div class="line indent2">’Twill soon be Winter now.</div> -<div class="line">Robin, Robin Redbreast,</div> -<div class="line indent2">O Robin dear!</div> -<div class="line">And what will this poor Robin do?</div> -<div class="line indent2">For pinching days are near.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The fireside for the cricket,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The wheatstack for the mouse,</div> -<div class="line">When trembling night-winds whistle</div> -<div class="line indent2">And moan all round the house.</div> -<div class="line">The frosty ways like iron,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The branches plumed with snow,—</div> -<div class="line">Alas! in winter dead and dark,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where can poor Robin go?</div> -<div class="line">Robin, Robin Redbreast,</div> -<div class="line indent2">O Robin dear!</div> -<div class="line">And a crumb of bread for Robin,</div> -<div class="line indent2">His little heart to cheer.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Allingham.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Black_Bunny" id="Black_Bunny"></a><span class="smcap">Black Bunny</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">It was a black Bunny, with white in its head,</div> -<div class="line">Alive when the children went cosy to bed—</div> -<div class="line">O early next morning that Bunny was dead!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_70" id="Page_70">70</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When Bunny’s young master awoke up from sleep,</div> -<div class="line">To look at the creatures young master did creep,</div> -<div class="line">And saw that this black one lay all of a heap.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“O Bunny, what ails you? What does it import</div> -<div class="line">That you lean on one side, with your breath coming short?</div> -<div class="line">For I never before saw a thing of the sort!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They took him so gently up out of his hutch,</div> -<div class="line">They made him a sick-bed, they loved him so much;</div> -<div class="line">They wrapped him up warm; they said, Poor thing, and such;</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But all to no purpose. Black Bunny he died,</div> -<div class="line">And rolled over limp on his little black side;</div> -<div class="line">The grown-up spectators looked awkward and sighed.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">While, as for those others in that congregation,</div> -<div class="line">You heard voices lifted in sore lamentation;</div> -<div class="line">But three-year-old Baby desired explanation:</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">At least, so it seemed. Then they buried their dead</div> -<div class="line">In a nice quiet place, with a flag at his head;</div> -<div class="line">“Poor Bunny!”—in large print—was what the flag said.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_71" id="Page_71">71</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Now, as they were shovelling the earth in the hole,</div> -<div class="line">Little Baby burst out, “I <em>don’t</em> like it!”—poor soul!</div> -<div class="line">And bitterly wept. So the dead had his dole.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">That evening, as Babe she was cuddling to bed,</div> -<div class="line">“The Bunny will come back again,” Baby said,</div> -<div class="line">“And be a <em>white</em> bunny, and never be dead!”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">W. B. Rands.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Cow" id="The_Cow"></a><span class="smcap">The Cow</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thank you, pretty cow, that made</div> -<div class="line">Pleasant milk to soak my bread,</div> -<div class="line">Every day, and every night,</div> -<div class="line">Warm, and fresh, and sweet, and white.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Do not chew the hemlock rank,</div> -<div class="line">Growing on the weedy bank;</div> -<div class="line">But the yellow cowslips eat,</div> -<div class="line">They will make it very sweet.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Where the purple violet grows,</div> -<div class="line">Where the bubbling water flows,</div> -<div class="line">Where the grass is fresh and fine,</div> -<div class="line">Pretty cow, go there and dine.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Ann and Jane Taylor.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_72" id="Page_72">72</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Skylark" id="The_Skylark"></a><span class="smcap">The Skylark</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Bird of the wilderness,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Blythesome and cumberless<a name="FNanchor_22_22" id="FNanchor_22_22"></a><a href="#Footnote_22_22" class="fnanchor">[22]</a>,</div> -<div class="line">Sweet be thy matin o’er moorland and lea!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Emblem of happiness,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Blest is thy dwelling-place—</div> -<div class="line">O to abide in the desert with thee!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Wild is thy lay and loud</div> -<div class="line indent2">Far in the downy cloud,</div> -<div class="line">Love gives it energy, love gave it birth.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where, on thy dewy wing,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where art thou journeying?</div> -<div class="line">Thy lay is in heaven, thy love is on earth.</div> -<div class="line indent2">O’er fell and fountain sheen,</div> -<div class="line indent2">O’er moor and mountain green,</div> -<div class="line">O’er the red streamer that heralds the day,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Over the cloudlet dim,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Over the rainbow’s rim,</div> -<div class="line">Musical cherub, soar, singing, away!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Then, when the gloaming comes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Low in the heather blooms,</div> -<div class="line">Sweet will thy welcome and bed of love be!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Emblem of happiness,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Blest is thy dwelling-place—</div> -<div class="line">O to abide in the desert with thee!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">James Hogg.</p> - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_22_22" id="Footnote_22_22"></a><a href="#FNanchor_22_22"><span class="label">[22]</span></a> <em>cumberless</em>: unencumbered, free from care.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_73" id="Page_73">73</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="CHRISTMAS_POEMS" id="CHRISTMAS_POEMS"></a>CHRISTMAS POEMS</h2> - -<p><em>Here one would like to have begun with some of the old-time carols. -But carols, somehow, seem to demand certain accompaniments—snow and -frost, starlight and lantern-light, a mingling of Church bells, and -above all their own simple haunting music. In cold print they do not -appeal to us to the same extent. But the poems that follow are in the -true carol-spirit.</em></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Christmas_Eve" id="Christmas_Eve"></a><span class="smcap">Christmas Eve</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In holly hedges starving birds</div> -<div class="line indent2">Silently mourn the setting year;</div> -<div class="line">Upright like silver-plated swords</div> -<div class="line indent2">The flags stand in the frozen mere.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The mistletoe we still adore</div> -<div class="line indent2">Upon the twisted hawthorn grows:</div> -<div class="line">In antique gardens hellebore</div> -<div class="line indent2">Puts forth its blushing Christmas rose.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Shrivell’d and purple, cheek by jowl,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The hips and haws hang drearily;</div> -<div class="line">Roll’d in a ball the sulky owl</div> -<div class="line indent2">Creeps far into his hollow tree.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_74" id="Page_74">74</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In abbeys and cathedrals dim</div> -<div class="line indent2">The birth of Christ is acted o’er;</div> -<div class="line">The kings of Cologne worship him,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Balthazar, Jasper, Melchior.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The shepherds in the field at night</div> -<div class="line indent2">Beheld an angel glory-clad,</div> -<div class="line">And shrank away with sore affright.</div> -<div class="line indent2">“Be not afraid,” the angel bade.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“I bring good news to king and clown,</div> -<div class="line indent2">To you here crouching on the sward;</div> -<div class="line">For there is born in David’s town</div> -<div class="line indent2">A Saviour, which is Christ the Lord.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Behold the babe is swathed, and laid</div> -<div class="line indent2">Within a manger.” Straight there stood</div> -<div class="line">Beside the angel all arrayed</div> -<div class="line indent2">A heavenly multitude.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Glory to God,” they sang; “and peace,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Good pleasure among men.”</div> -<div class="line">The wondrous message of release!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Glory to God again!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Hush! Hark! the waits, far up the street!</div> -<div class="line indent2">A distant, ghostly charm unfolds,</div> -<div class="line">Of magic music wild and sweet,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Anomes and clarigolds.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">John Davidson.</p> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_75" id="Page_75">75</a></span> -<h3 class="title"><a name="A_Christmas_Carol" id="A_Christmas_Carol"></a><span class="smcap">A Christmas Carol</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">What sweeter music can we bring</div> -<div class="line">Than a carol, for to sing</div> -<div class="line">The birth of this our heavenly King?</div> -<div class="line">Awake the voice! awake the string!</div> -<div class="line">Heart, ear, and eye, and everything!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Dark and dull night, fly hence away,</div> -<div class="line">And give the honour to this day,</div> -<div class="line">That sees December turned to May.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">If we may ask the reason, say,</div> -<div class="line">The why and wherefore all things here</div> -<div class="line">Seem like the spring-time of the year?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Why does the chilling winter’s morn</div> -<div class="line">Smile, like a field beset with corn?</div> -<div class="line">Or smell, like to a mead new-shorn,</div> -<div class="line">Thus, on the sudden?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent18">Come and see</div> -<div class="line">The cause, why things thus fragrant be.</div> -<div class="line">’Tis He is born, whose quickening birth</div> -<div class="line">Gives light and lustre, public mirth,</div> -<div class="line">To heaven, and the under-earth.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">We see Him come, and know Him ours,</div> -<div class="line">Who with His sunshine and His showers</div> -<div class="line">Turns all the patient ground to flowers.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_76" id="Page_76">76</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The darling of the world is come,</div> -<div class="line">And fit it is we find a room</div> -<div class="line">To welcome Him. The nobler part</div> -<div class="line">Of all the house here, is the heart,</div> -<div class="line">Which we will give Him; and bequeath</div> -<div class="line">This holly, and this ivy wreath,</div> -<div class="line">To do Him honour; who’s our King,</div> -<div class="line">And Lord of all this revelling.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Herrick.</p> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="A_Childs_Present_to_His_Child-Saviour" id="A_Childs_Present_to_His_Child-Saviour"></a><span class="smcap">A Child’s Present to His Child-Saviour</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Go, pretty child, and bear this flower</div> -<div class="line">Unto thy little Saviour;</div> -<div class="line">And tell Him, by that bud now blown,</div> -<div class="line">He is the Rose of Sharon known;</div> -<div class="line">When thou hast said so, stick it there</div> -<div class="line">Upon his bib, or stomacher;</div> -<div class="line">And tell Him, for good handsel<a name="FNanchor_23_23" id="FNanchor_23_23"></a><a href="#Footnote_23_23" class="fnanchor">[23]</a> too,</div> -<div class="line">That thou hast brought a whistle new,</div> -<div class="line">Made of a clean straight oaten reed,</div> -<div class="line">To charm his cries at time of need.</div> -<div class="line">Tell Him, for coral thou hast none;</div> -<div class="line">But if thou hadst, He should have one;</div> -<div class="line">But poor thou art, and known to be</div> -<div class="line">Even as moneyless, as He.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_77" id="Page_77">77</a></span> -<div class="line">Lastly, if thou canst win a kiss</div> -<div class="line">From those mellifluous lips of His,</div> -<div class="line">Then never take a second on,</div> -<div class="line">To spoil the first impression.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Herrick.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_23_23" id="Footnote_23_23"></a><a href="#FNanchor_23_23"><span class="label">[23]</span></a> <em>handsel</em>: a gift for good luck.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Peace-Giver" id="The_Peace-Giver"></a><span class="smcap">The Peace-Giver</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thou whose birth on earth</div> -<div class="line indent2">Angels sang to men,</div> -<div class="line">While thy stars made mirth,</div> -<div class="line">Saviour, at thy birth.</div> -<div class="line indent2">This day born again;</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">As this night was bright</div> -<div class="line indent2">With thy cradle-ray,</div> -<div class="line">Very light of light,</div> -<div class="line">Turn the wild world’s night</div> -<div class="line indent2">To thy perfect day.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thou the Word and Lord</div> -<div class="line indent2">In all time and space</div> -<div class="line">Heard, beheld, adored,</div> -<div class="line">With all ages poured</div> -<div class="line indent2">Forth before thy face,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_78" id="Page_78">78</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Lord, what worth in earth</div> -<div class="line indent2">Drew thee down to die?</div> -<div class="line">What therein was worth,</div> -<div class="line">Lord, thy death and birth?</div> -<div class="line indent2">What beneath thy sky?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thou whose face gives grace</div> -<div class="line indent2">As the sun’s doth heat,</div> -<div class="line">Let thy sunbright face</div> -<div class="line">Lighten time and space</div> -<div class="line indent2">Here beneath thy feet.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Bid our peace increase,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Thou that madest morn;</div> -<div class="line">Bid oppression cease;</div> -<div class="line">Bid the night be peace;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Bid the day be born.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">A. C. Swinburne.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="VARIOUS" id="VARIOUS"></a>VARIOUS</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="To_a_Singer" id="To_a_Singer"></a><span class="smcap">To a Singer</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">My soul is an enchanted boat,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Which, like a sleeping swan, doth float</div> -<div class="line">Upon the silver waves of thy sweet singing;</div> -<div class="line indent2">And thine doth like an angel sit</div> -<div class="line indent2">Beside the helm conducting it,</div> -<div class="line">Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_79" id="Page_79">79</a></span> -<div class="line indent2">It seems to float ever, for ever,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Upon that many-winding river,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Between mountains, woods, abysses,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A paradise of wildernesses!</div> -<div class="line">Till, like one in slumber bound,</div> -<div class="line">Borne to the ocean, I float down, around,</div> -<div class="line">Into a sea profound, of ever-spreading sound.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Meanwhile thy spirit lifts its pinions</div> -<div class="line indent2">In music’s most serene dominions;</div> -<div class="line">Catching the winds that fan that happy heaven.</div> -<div class="line indent2">And we sail on, away, afar,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Without a course, without a star,</div> -<div class="line">But by the instinct of sweet music driven;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Till through Elysian garden islets</div> -<div class="line indent2">By thee, most beautiful of pilots,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where never mortal pinnace glided,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The boat of my desire is guided:</div> -<div class="line">Realms where the air we breathe is love,</div> -<div class="line">Which in the winds on the waves doth move,</div> -<div class="line">Harmonizing this earth with what we feel above.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">P. B. Shelley.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_80" id="Page_80">80</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Happy_Piper" id="The_Happy_Piper"></a><span class="smcap">The Happy Piper</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Piping down the valleys wild,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Piping songs of pleasant glee,</div> -<div class="line">On a cloud I saw a child,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And he laughing said to me:</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Pipe a song about a Lamb!”</div> -<div class="line indent2">So I piped with merry cheer.</div> -<div class="line">“Piper, pipe that song again”;</div> -<div class="line indent2">So I piped: he wept to hear.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Drop thy pipe, thy happy pipe;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sing thy songs of happy cheer!”</div> -<div class="line">So I sang the same again,</div> -<div class="line indent2">While he wept with joy to hear.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Piper, sit thee down and write</div> -<div class="line indent2">In a book that all may read.”</div> -<div class="line">So he vanish’d from my sight,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And I pluck’d a hollow reed,</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And I made a rural pen,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And I stain’d the water clear,</div> -<div class="line">And I wrote my happy songs</div> -<div class="line indent2">Every child may joy to hear.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Blake.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_81" id="Page_81">81</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Destruction_of_Sennacherib" id="The_Destruction_of_Sennacherib"></a><span class="smcap">The Destruction of Sennacherib</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold,</div> -<div class="line">And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;</div> -<div class="line">And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,</div> -<div class="line">When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,</div> -<div class="line">That host with their banners at sunset were seen:</div> -<div class="line">Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,</div> -<div class="line">That host on the morrow lay wither’d and strown.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,</div> -<div class="line">And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed;</div> -<div class="line">And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,</div> -<div class="line">And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_82" id="Page_82">82</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And there lay the steed with his nostril all wide,</div> -<div class="line">But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride:</div> -<div class="line">And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,</div> -<div class="line">And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And there lay the rider distorted and pale,</div> -<div class="line">With the dew on his brow and the rust on his mail;</div> -<div class="line">And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,</div> -<div class="line">The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,</div> -<div class="line">And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;</div> -<div class="line">And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,</div> -<div class="line">Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Lord Byron.</span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_83" id="Page_83">83</a></span> -<p><em>The next two spirited poems—both hailing from America—are inserted -with a view to their being useful to boys who have a taste for -recitation.</em></p> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Sheridans_Ride" id="Sheridans_Ride"></a><span class="smcap">Sheridan’s Ride</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Up from the south at break of day,</div> -<div class="line">Bringing to Winchester fresh dismay,</div> -<div class="line">The affrighted air with a shudder bore,</div> -<div class="line">Like a herald in haste, to the chieftain’s door,</div> -<div class="line">The terrible grumble and rumble and roar,</div> -<div class="line">Telling the battle was on once more—</div> -<div class="line">And Sheridan twenty miles away!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And wilder still those billows of war</div> -<div class="line">Thundered along the horizon’s bar;</div> -<div class="line">And louder yet into Winchester rolled</div> -<div class="line">The roar of that red sea uncontrolled,</div> -<div class="line">Making the blood of the listener cold</div> -<div class="line">As he thought of the stake in that fiery fray,</div> -<div class="line">With Sheridan twenty miles away!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But there is a road from Winchester town,</div> -<div class="line">A good broad highway leading down;</div> -<div class="line">And there, through the flash of the morning light,</div> -<div class="line">A steed, as black as the steeds of night,</div> -<div class="line">Was seen to pass as with eagle flight.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_84" id="Page_84">84</a></span> -<div class="line">As if he knew the terrible need,</div> -<div class="line">He stretched away with his utmost speed;</div> -<div class="line">Hills rose and fell, but his heart was gay,</div> -<div class="line">With Sheridan fifteen miles away!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Still sprang from those swift hoofs, thundering south,</div> -<div class="line">The dust, like the smoke from the cannon’s mouth,</div> -<div class="line">Or the trail of a comet sweeping faster and faster,</div> -<div class="line">Foreboding to traitors the doom of disaster;</div> -<div class="line">The heart of the steed and the heart of the master</div> -<div class="line">Were beating like prisoners assaulting their walls,</div> -<div class="line">Impatient to be where the battle-field calls;</div> -<div class="line">Every nerve of the charger was strained to full play,</div> -<div class="line">With Sheridan only ten miles away!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The first that the General saw was the groups</div> -<div class="line">Of stragglers, and then—the retreating troops!</div> -<div class="line">What was done—what to do—a glance told him both;</div> -<div class="line">And, striking his spurs, with a terrible oath</div> -<div class="line">He dashed down the line ’mid a storm of huzzahs,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_85" id="Page_85">85</a></span> -<div class="line">And the wave of retreat checked its course there, because</div> -<div class="line">The sight of the Master compelled it to pause.</div> -<div class="line">With foam and with dust the black charger was grey;</div> -<div class="line">By the flash of his eye and his red nostril’s play</div> -<div class="line">He seemed to the whole great army to say</div> -<div class="line">“I have brought you Sheridan, all the way</div> -<div class="line">From Winchester town to save the day!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Hurrah, hurrah, for Sheridan!</div> -<div class="line">Hurrah, hurrah, for horse and man!</div> -<div class="line">And when their statues are placed on high</div> -<div class="line">Under the dome of the Union sky</div> -<div class="line">—The American soldier’s Temple of Fame—</div> -<div class="line">There, with the glorious General’s name,</div> -<div class="line">Be it said in letters both bold and bright,</div> -<div class="line">“Here is the steed that saved the day</div> -<div class="line">By carrying Sheridan into the fight,</div> -<div class="line">From Winchester—twenty miles away!”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right"><span class="smcap">Thomas Buchanan Read.</span></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_86" id="Page_86">86</a></span> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Columbus" id="Columbus"></a><span class="smcap">Columbus</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Behind him lay the gray Azores,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Behind, the Gates of Hercules;</div> -<div class="line">Before him not the ghost of shores;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Before him only shoreless seas.</div> -<div class="line">The good mate said: “Now must we pray,</div> -<div class="line indent2">For lo! the very stars are gone.</div> -<div class="line">Brave Admiral, speak; what shall I say?”</div> -<div class="line indent2">“Why, say ‘Sail on! sail on! and on!’”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“My men grow mutinous day by day;</div> -<div class="line indent2">My men grow ghastly, wan and weak.”</div> -<div class="line">The stout mate thought of home; a spray</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of salt wave washed his swarthy cheek.</div> -<div class="line">“What shall I say, brave Admiral, say,</div> -<div class="line indent2">If we sight naught but seas at dawn?”</div> -<div class="line">“Why, you shall say at break of day:</div> -<div class="line indent2">‘Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!’”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They sailed and sailed, as winds might blow,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Until at last the blanched mate said:</div> -<div class="line">“Why, now not even God would know</div> -<div class="line indent2">Should I and all my men fall dead.</div> -<div class="line">These very winds forget their way,</div> -<div class="line indent2">For God from these dread seas is gone.</div> -<div class="line">Now speak, brave Admiral, speak and say—”</div> -<div class="line indent2">He said: “Sail on! sail on! and on!”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_87" id="Page_87">87</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They sailed. They sailed. Then spake the mate:</div> -<div class="line indent2">“This mad sea shows his teeth to-night.</div> -<div class="line">He curls his lip, he lies in wait,</div> -<div class="line indent2">He lifts his teeth as if to bite!</div> -<div class="line">Brave Admiral, say but one good word:</div> -<div class="line indent2">What shall we do when hope is gone?”</div> -<div class="line">The words leapt like a leaping sword:</div> -<div class="line indent2">“Sail on! sail on! sail on! and on!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then, pale and worn, he paced his deck,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And peered through darkness. Ah, that night</div> -<div class="line">Of all dark nights! And then a speck—</div> -<div class="line indent2">A light! A light! At last a light!</div> -<div class="line">It grew, a starlit flag unfurled!</div> -<div class="line indent2">It grew to be Time’s burst of dawn.</div> -<div class="line">He gained a world; he gave that world</div> -<div class="line indent2">Its grandest lesson: “On! sail on!”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Joaquin Miller.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_88" id="Page_88">88</a></span> -</div> - -<p><em>Macaulay’s “Lays of Ancient Rome,” of which this is the first, -deal only with the legends that Rome in her greatness liked to tell -concerning her early beginnings. Unfortunately there is no similar -group of poems treating of Imperial Rome, the centre of a world-empire; -but children must please not think of the Mistress of the World purely -as a little riverside town which could free itself from outside trouble -by chopping down a wooden bridge.</em></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Horatius" id="Horatius"></a><span class="smcap">Horatius</span></h3> -</div> -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Lars Porsena of Clusium</div> -<div class="line indent2">By the Nine Gods he swore</div> -<div class="line">That the great house of Tarquin</div> -<div class="line indent2">Should suffer wrong no more.</div> -<div class="line">By the Nine Gods he swore it,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And named a trysting day,</div> -<div class="line">And bade his messengers ride forth</div> -<div class="line">East and west and south and north</div> -<div class="line indent2">To summon his array.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">East and west and south and north</div> -<div class="line indent2">The messengers ride fast,</div> -<div class="line">And tower and town and cottage</div> -<div class="line indent2">Have heard the trumpet’s blast.</div> -<div class="line">Shame on the false Etruscan</div> -<div class="line indent2">Who lingers in his home,</div> -<div class="line">When Porsena of Clusium</div> -<div class="line indent2">Is on the march for Rome.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_89" id="Page_89">89</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The horsemen and the footmen</div> -<div class="line indent2">Are pouring in amain</div> -<div class="line">From many a stately market-place,</div> -<div class="line indent2">From many a fruitful plain;</div> -<div class="line">From many a lonely hamlet</div> -<div class="line indent2">Which, hid by beech and pine,</div> -<div class="line">Like an eagle’s nest hangs on the crest</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of purple Apennine;</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">From lordly Volaterræ,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where scowls the far-famed hold</div> -<div class="line">Piled by the hands of giants</div> -<div class="line indent2">For godlike kings of old;</div> -<div class="line">From sea-girt Populonia</div> -<div class="line indent2">Whose sentinels descry</div> -<div class="line">Sardinia’s snowy mountain-tops</div> -<div class="line indent2">Fringing the southern sky;</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">From the proud mart of Pisæ,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Queen of the western waves,</div> -<div class="line">Where ride Massilia’s triremes</div> -<div class="line indent2">Heavy with fair-haired slaves;</div> -<div class="line">From where sweet Clanis wanders</div> -<div class="line indent2">Through corn and vines and flowers;</div> -<div class="line">From where Cortona lifts to heaven</div> -<div class="line indent2">Her diadem of towers.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_90" id="Page_90">90</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Tall are the oaks whose acorns</div> -<div class="line indent2">Drop in dark Auser’s rill;</div> -<div class="line">Fat are the stags that champ the boughs</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of the Ciminian hill;</div> -<div class="line">Beyond all streams Clitumnus</div> -<div class="line indent2">Is to the herdsman dear;</div> -<div class="line">Best of all pools the fowler loves</div> -<div class="line indent2">The great Volsinian mere.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But now no stroke of woodman</div> -<div class="line indent2">Is heard by Auser’s rill;</div> -<div class="line">No hunter tracks the stag’s green path</div> -<div class="line indent2">Up the Ciminian hill;</div> -<div class="line">Unwatched along Clitumnus</div> -<div class="line indent2">Grazes the milk-white steer;</div> -<div class="line">Unharmed the water-fowl may dip</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the Volsinian mere.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The harvests of Arretium</div> -<div class="line indent2">This year old men shall reap;</div> -<div class="line">This year young boys in Umbro</div> -<div class="line indent2">Shall plunge the struggling sheep;</div> -<div class="line">And in the vats of Luna</div> -<div class="line indent2">This year the must<a name="FNanchor_24_24" id="FNanchor_24_24"></a><a href="#Footnote_24_24" class="fnanchor">[24]</a> shall foam</div> -<div class="line">Round the white feet of laughing girls</div> -<div class="line indent2">Whose sires have marched to Rome.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_91" id="Page_91">91</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There be thirty chosen prophets,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The wisest of the land,</div> -<div class="line">Who <a name="always" id="always"></a><ins title="Original has alway">always</ins> by Lars Porsena</div> -<div class="line indent2">Both morn and evening stand:</div> -<div class="line">Evening and morn the Thirty</div> -<div class="line indent2">Have turned the verses o’er,</div> -<div class="line">Traced from the right on linen white</div> -<div class="line indent2">By mighty Seers of yore.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And with one voice the Thirty</div> -<div class="line indent2">Have their glad answer given:</div> -<div class="line">“Go forth, go forth, Lars Porsena;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Go forth, beloved of Heaven;</div> -<div class="line">Go, and return in glory</div> -<div class="line indent2">To Clusium’s royal dome,</div> -<div class="line">And hang round Nurscia’s altars</div> -<div class="line indent2">The golden shields of Rome.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And now hath every city</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sent up her tale of men;</div> -<div class="line">The foot are fourscore thousand,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The horse are thousands ten.</div> -<div class="line">Before the gates of Sutrium</div> -<div class="line indent2">Is met the great array.</div> -<div class="line">A proud man was Lars Porsena</div> -<div class="line indent2">Upon the trysting day!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_92" id="Page_92">92</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">For all the Etruscan armies</div> -<div class="line indent2">Were ranged beneath his eye,</div> -<div class="line">And many a banished Roman,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And many a stout ally;</div> -<div class="line">And with a mighty following</div> -<div class="line indent2">To join the muster came</div> -<div class="line">The Tusculan Mamilius,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Prince of the Latian name.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But by the yellow Tiber</div> -<div class="line indent2">Was tumult and affright:</div> -<div class="line">From all the spacious champaign</div> -<div class="line indent2">To Rome men took their flight.</div> -<div class="line">A mile around the city</div> -<div class="line indent2">The throng stopped up the ways;</div> -<div class="line">A fearful sight it was to see,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Through two long nights and days.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">For agèd folk on crutches,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And women great with child,</div> -<div class="line">And mothers sobbing over babes</div> -<div class="line indent2">That clung to them and smiled,</div> -<div class="line">And sick men borne in litters</div> -<div class="line indent2">High on the necks of slaves,</div> -<div class="line">And troops of sun-burned husbandmen</div> -<div class="line indent2">With reaping-hooks and staves,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_93" id="Page_93">93</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And droves of mules and asses</div> -<div class="line indent2">Laden with skins of wine,</div> -<div class="line">And endless flocks of goats and sheep,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And endless herds of kine,</div> -<div class="line">And endless trains of waggons</div> -<div class="line indent2">That creaked beneath the weight</div> -<div class="line">Of corn-sacks and of household goods,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Choked every roaring gate.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Now from the rock Tarpeian</div> -<div class="line indent2">Could the wan burghers spy</div> -<div class="line">The line of blazing villages</div> -<div class="line indent2">Red in the midnight sky.</div> -<div class="line">The Fathers of the City,</div> -<div class="line indent2">They sat all night and day,</div> -<div class="line">For every hour some horseman came</div> -<div class="line indent2">With tidings of dismay.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">To eastward and to westward</div> -<div class="line indent2">Have spread the Tuscan bands;</div> -<div class="line">Nor house, nor fence, nor dovecote</div> -<div class="line indent2">In Crustumerium stands.</div> -<div class="line">Verbenna down to Ostia</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hath wasted all the plain;</div> -<div class="line">Astur hath stormed Janiculum,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the stout guards are slain.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_94" id="Page_94">94</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I wis, in all the Senate</div> -<div class="line indent2">There was no heart so bold</div> -<div class="line">But sore it ached, and fast it beat,</div> -<div class="line indent2">When that ill news was told.</div> -<div class="line">Forthwith up rose the Consul,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Up rose the Fathers all;</div> -<div class="line">In haste they girded up their gowns,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And hied them to the wall.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They held a council standing</div> -<div class="line indent2">Before the River-Gate;</div> -<div class="line">Short time was there, ye well may guess,</div> -<div class="line indent2">For musing or debate.</div> -<div class="line">Out spake the Consul roundly:</div> -<div class="line indent2">“The bridge must straight go down;</div> -<div class="line">For, since Janiculum is lost,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Nought else can save the town.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Just then a scout came flying,</div> -<div class="line indent2">All wild with haste and fear:</div> -<div class="line">“To arms! to arms! Sir Consul:</div> -<div class="line indent2">Lars Porsena is here.”</div> -<div class="line">On the low hills to westward</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Consul fixed his eye,</div> -<div class="line">And saw the swarthy storm of dust</div> -<div class="line indent2">Rise fast along the sky.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_95" id="Page_95">95</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And nearer fast and nearer</div> -<div class="line indent2">Doth the red whirlwind come;</div> -<div class="line">And louder still and still more loud</div> -<div class="line">From underneath that rolling cloud</div> -<div class="line">Is heard the trumpet’s war-note proud,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The trampling, and the hum.</div> -<div class="line">And plainly and more plainly</div> -<div class="line indent2">Now through the gloom appears,</div> -<div class="line">Far to left and far to right,</div> -<div class="line">In broken gleams of dark-blue light,</div> -<div class="line">The long array of helmets bright,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The long array of spears.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And plainly and more plainly</div> -<div class="line indent2">Above that glimmering line</div> -<div class="line">Now might ye see the banners</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of twelve fair cities shine;</div> -<div class="line">But the banner of proud Clusium</div> -<div class="line indent2">Was highest of them all,</div> -<div class="line">The terror of the Umbrian,</div> -<div class="line">The terror of the Gaul.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And plainly and more plainly</div> -<div class="line indent2">Now might the burghers know,</div> -<div class="line">By port and vest, by horse and crest,</div> -<div class="line">Each warlike Lucumo<a name="FNanchor_25_25" id="FNanchor_25_25"></a><a href="#Footnote_25_25" class="fnanchor">[25]</a>.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_96" id="Page_96">96</a></span> -<div class="line">There Cilnius of Arretium</div> -<div class="line indent2">On his fleet roan was seen;</div> -<div class="line">And Astur of the fourfold shield,</div> -<div class="line">Girt with the brand none else may wield,</div> -<div class="line">Tolumnius with the belt of gold,</div> -<div class="line">And dark Verbenna from the hold</div> -<div class="line indent2">By reedy Thrasymene.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Fast by the royal standard</div> -<div class="line indent2">O’erlooking all the war,</div> -<div class="line">Lars Porsena of Clusium</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sate in his ivory car.</div> -<div class="line">By the right wheel rode Mamilius,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Prince of the Latian name;</div> -<div class="line">And by the left false Sextus,</div> -<div class="line indent2">That wrought the deed of shame.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But when the face of Sextus</div> -<div class="line indent2">Was seen among the foes,</div> -<div class="line">A yell that rent the firmament</div> -<div class="line indent2">From all the town arose.</div> -<div class="line">On the house-tops was no woman</div> -<div class="line indent2">But spat towards him, and hissed;</div> -<div class="line">No child but screamed out curses,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And shook its little fist.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_97" id="Page_97">97</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But the Consul’s brow was sad,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the Consul’s speech was low,</div> -<div class="line">And darkly looked he at the wall,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And darkly at the foe.</div> -<div class="line">“Their van will be upon us</div> -<div class="line indent2">Before the bridge goes down;</div> -<div class="line">And if they once may win the bridge,</div> -<div class="line indent2">What hope to save the town?”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then out spake brave Horatius,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Captain of the gate:</div> -<div class="line">“To every man upon this earth</div> -<div class="line indent2">Death cometh soon or late;</div> -<div class="line">And how can man die better</div> -<div class="line indent2">Than facing fearful odds</div> -<div class="line">For the ashes of his fathers</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the temples of his Gods,</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And for the tender mother</div> -<div class="line indent2">Who dandled him to rest,</div> -<div class="line">And for the wife who nurses</div> -<div class="line indent2">His baby at her breast,</div> -<div class="line">And for the holy maidens</div> -<div class="line indent2">Who feed the eternal flame,</div> -<div class="line">To save them from false Sextus</div> -<div class="line indent2">That wrought the deed of shame?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_98" id="Page_98">98</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Hew down the bridge, Sir Consul,</div> -<div class="line indent2">With all the speed ye may;</div> -<div class="line">I, with two more to help me,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Will hold the foe in play.</div> -<div class="line">In yon strait path a thousand</div> -<div class="line indent2">May well be stopped by three:</div> -<div class="line">Now who will stand on either hand,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And keep the bridge with me?”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then out spake Spurius Lartius,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A Ramnian proud was he:</div> -<div class="line">“Lo, I will stand at thy right hand,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And keep the bridge with thee.”</div> -<div class="line">And out spake strong Herminius,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of Titian blood was he:</div> -<div class="line">“I will abide on thy left side,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And keep the bridge with thee.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Horatius,” quoth the Consul,</div> -<div class="line indent2">“As thou sayest, so let it be.”</div> -<div class="line">And straight against that great array</div> -<div class="line indent2">Forth went the dauntless Three.</div> -<div class="line">For Romans in Rome’s quarrel</div> -<div class="line indent2">Spared neither land nor gold,</div> -<div class="line">Nor son nor wife, nor limb nor life</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the brave days of old.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_99" id="Page_99">99</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then none was for a party;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Then all were for the State;</div> -<div class="line">Then the great man helped the poor,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the poor man loved the great;</div> -<div class="line">Then lands were fairly portioned;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Then spoils were fairly sold;</div> -<div class="line">The Romans were like brothers</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the brave days of old.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Now Roman is to Roman</div> -<div class="line indent2">More hateful than a foe,</div> -<div class="line">And the Tribunes beard the high,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the Fathers grind the low.</div> -<div class="line">As we wax hot in faction,</div> -<div class="line indent2">In battle we wax cold:</div> -<div class="line">Wherefore men fight not as they fought</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the brave days of old.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Now while the Three were tightening</div> -<div class="line indent2">Their harness on their backs,</div> -<div class="line">The Consul was the foremost man</div> -<div class="line indent2">To take in hand an axe:</div> -<div class="line">And Fathers mixed with Commons</div> -<div class="line indent2">Seized hatchet, bar, and crow,</div> -<div class="line">And smote upon the planks above,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And loosed the props below.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_100" id="Page_100">100</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Meanwhile the Tuscan army,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Right glorious to behold,</div> -<div class="line">Came flashing back the noonday light,</div> -<div class="line">Rank behind rank, like surges bright</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of a broad sea of gold.</div> -<div class="line">Four hundred trumpets sounded</div> -<div class="line indent2">A peal of warlike glee,</div> -<div class="line">As that great host, with measured tread,</div> -<div class="line">And spears advanced, and ensigns spread,</div> -<div class="line">Rolled slowly towards the bridge’s head,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where stood the dauntless Three.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The Three stood calm and silent,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And looked upon the foes,</div> -<div class="line">And a great shout of laughter</div> -<div class="line indent2">From all the vanguard rose:</div> -<div class="line">And forth three chiefs came spurring</div> -<div class="line indent2">Before that deep array;</div> -<div class="line">To earth they sprang, their swords they drew,</div> -<div class="line">And lifted high their shields, and flew</div> -<div class="line indent2">To win the narrow way;</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Aunus from green Tifernum,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Lord of the Hill of Vines;</div> -<div class="line">And Seius, whose eight hundred slaves</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sicken in Ilva’s mines;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_101" id="Page_101">101</a></span> -<div class="line">And Picus, long to Clusium</div> -<div class="line indent2">Vassal in peace and war,</div> -<div class="line">Who led to fight his Umbrian powers</div> -<div class="line">From that grey crag where, girt with towers,</div> -<div class="line">The fortress of Nequinum lowers</div> -<div class="line indent2">O’er the pale waves of Nar.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Stout Lartius hurled down Aunus</div> -<div class="line indent2">Into the stream beneath:</div> -<div class="line">Herminius struck at Seius,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And clove him to the teeth:</div> -<div class="line">At Picus brave Horatius</div> -<div class="line indent2">Darted one fiery thrust,</div> -<div class="line">And the proud Umbrian’s gilded arms</div> -<div class="line indent2">Clashed in the bloody dust.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then Ocnus of Falerii</div> -<div class="line indent2">Rushed on the Roman Three;</div> -<div class="line">And Lausulus of Urgo,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The rover of the sea;</div> -<div class="line">And Aruns of Volsinium,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Who slew the great wild boar,</div> -<div class="line">The great wild boar that had his den</div> -<div class="line">Amidst the reeds of Cosa’s fen,</div> -<div class="line">And wasted fields, and slaughtered men,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Along Albinia’s shore.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_102" id="Page_102">102</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Herminius smote down Aruns:</div> -<div class="line indent2">Lartius laid Ocnus low:</div> -<div class="line">Right to the heart of Lausulus</div> -<div class="line indent2">Horatius sent a blow.</div> -<div class="line">“Lie there,” he cried, “fell pirate!</div> -<div class="line indent2">No more, aghast and pale,</div> -<div class="line">From Ostia’s walls the crowd shall mark</div> -<div class="line">The track of thy destroying bark.</div> -<div class="line">No more Campania’s hinds shall fly</div> -<div class="line">To woods and caverns when they spy</div> -<div class="line indent2">Thy thrice-accursed sail.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But now no sound of laughter</div> -<div class="line indent2">Was heard amongst the foes.</div> -<div class="line">A wild and wrathful clamour</div> -<div class="line indent2">From all the vanguard rose.</div> -<div class="line">Six spears’ lengths from the entrance</div> -<div class="line indent2">Halted that deep array,</div> -<div class="line">And for a space no man came forth</div> -<div class="line indent2">To win the narrow way.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But hark! the cry is “Astur!”</div> -<div class="line indent2">And lo! the ranks divide;</div> -<div class="line">And the great Lord of Luna</div> -<div class="line indent2">Comes with his stately stride.</div> -<div class="line">Upon his ample shoulders</div> -<div class="line indent2">Clangs loud the fourfold shield,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_103" id="Page_103">103</a></span> -<div class="line">And in his hand he shakes the brand</div> -<div class="line indent2">Which none but he can wield.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">He smiled on those bold Romans</div> -<div class="line indent2">A smile serene and high;</div> -<div class="line">He eyed the flinching Tuscans,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And scorn was in his eye.</div> -<div class="line">Quoth he, “The she-wolf’s litter</div> -<div class="line indent2">Stand savagely at bay:</div> -<div class="line">But will ye dare to follow,</div> -<div class="line indent2">If Astur clears the way?”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then, whirling up his broadsword</div> -<div class="line indent2">With both hands to the height,</div> -<div class="line">He rushed against Horatius,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And smote with all his might.</div> -<div class="line">With shield and blade Horatius</div> -<div class="line indent2">Right deftly turned the blow:</div> -<div class="line">The blow, though turned, came yet too nigh;</div> -<div class="line">It missed his helm, but gashed his thigh:</div> -<div class="line">The Tuscans raised a joyful cry</div> -<div class="line indent2">To see the red blood flow.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">He reeled, and on Herminius</div> -<div class="line indent2">He leaned one breathing-space;</div> -<div class="line">Then, like a wild cat mad with wounds,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sprang right at Astur’s face.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_104" id="Page_104">104</a></span> -<div class="line">Through teeth, and skull, and helmet,</div> -<div class="line indent2">So fierce a thrust he <a name="sped" id="sped"></a><ins title="Original doesn't have comma">sped,</ins></div> -<div class="line">The good sword stood a handbreadth out</div> -<div class="line indent2">Behind the Tuscan’s head.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And the great Lord of Luna</div> -<div class="line indent2">Fell at that deadly stroke,</div> -<div class="line">As falls on Mount Alvernus</div> -<div class="line indent2">A thunder-smitten oak:</div> -<div class="line">Far o’er the crashing forest</div> -<div class="line indent2">The giant arms lie spread;</div> -<div class="line">And the pale augurs, muttering low,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Gaze on the blasted head.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">On Astur’s throat Horatius</div> -<div class="line indent2">Right firmly pressed his heel,</div> -<div class="line">And thrice and four times tugged amain,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Ere he wrenched out the steel.</div> -<div class="line">“And see,” he cried, “the welcome,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Fair guests, that waits you here!</div> -<div class="line">What noble Lucumo comes next</div> -<div class="line indent2">To taste our Roman cheer?”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But at his haughty challenge</div> -<div class="line indent2">A sullen murmur ran,</div> -<div class="line">Mingled of wrath and shame and dread,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Along that glittering van.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_105" id="Page_105">105</a></span> -<div class="line">There lacked not men of prowess,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Nor men of lordly race;</div> -<div class="line">For all Etruria’s noblest</div> -<div class="line indent2">Were round the fatal place.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But all Etruria’s noblest</div> -<div class="line indent2">Felt their hearts sink to see</div> -<div class="line">On the earth the bloody corpses,</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the path the dauntless Three:</div> -<div class="line">And, from the ghastly entrance</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where those bold Romans stood,</div> -<div class="line">All shrank, like boys who unaware,</div> -<div class="line">Ranging the woods to start a hare,</div> -<div class="line">Come to the mouth of the dark lair</div> -<div class="line">Where, growling low, a fierce old bear</div> -<div class="line indent2">Lies amidst bones and blood.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Was none who would be foremost</div> -<div class="line indent2">To lead such dire attack;</div> -<div class="line">But those behind cried “Forward!”</div> -<div class="line indent2">And those before cried “Back!”</div> -<div class="line">And backward now and forward</div> -<div class="line indent2">Wavers the deep array;</div> -<div class="line">And on the tossing sea of steel,</div> -<div class="line">To and fro the standards reel;</div> -<div class="line">And the victorious trumpet-peal</div> -<div class="line indent2">Dies fitfully away.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_106" id="Page_106">106</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Yet one man for one moment</div> -<div class="line indent2">Strode out before the crowd;</div> -<div class="line">Well known was he to all the Three,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And they gave him greeting loud.</div> -<div class="line">“Now welcome, welcome, Sextus!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Now welcome to thy home!</div> -<div class="line">Why dost thou stay, and turn away?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Here lies the road to Rome.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thrice looked he at the city;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Thrice looked he at the dead;</div> -<div class="line">And thrice came on in fury,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And thrice turned back in dread:</div> -<div class="line">And, white with fear and hatred,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Scowled at the narrow way</div> -<div class="line">Where, wallowing in a pool of blood,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The bravest Tuscans lay.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But meanwhile axe and lever</div> -<div class="line indent2">Have manfully been plied;</div> -<div class="line">And now the bridge hangs tottering</div> -<div class="line indent2">Above the boiling tide.</div> -<div class="line">“Come back, come back, Horatius!”</div> -<div class="line indent2">Loud cried the Fathers all.</div> -<div class="line">“Back, Lartius! back, Herminius!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Back, ere the ruin fall!”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_107" id="Page_107">107</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Back darted Spurius Lartius;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Herminius darted back:</div> -<div class="line">And, as they passed, beneath their feet</div> -<div class="line indent2">They felt the timbers crack.</div> -<div class="line">But, when they turned their faces,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And on the farther shore</div> -<div class="line">Saw brave Horatius stand alone,</div> -<div class="line indent2">They would have crossed once more.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But with a crash like thunder</div> -<div class="line indent2">Fell every loosened beam,</div> -<div class="line">And, like a dam the mighty wreck</div> -<div class="line indent2">Lay right athwart the stream:</div> -<div class="line">And a long shout of triumph</div> -<div class="line indent2">Rose from the walls of Rome,</div> -<div class="line">As to the highest turret-tops</div> -<div class="line indent2">Was splashed the yellow foam.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And, like a horse unbroken</div> -<div class="line indent2">When first he feels the rein,</div> -<div class="line">The furious river struggled hard,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And tossed his tawny mane;</div> -<div class="line">And burst the curb, and bounded,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Rejoicing to be free;</div> -<div class="line">And whirling down, in fierce career,</div> -<div class="line">Battlement, and plank, and pier,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Rushed headlong to the sea.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_108" id="Page_108">108</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Alone stood brave Horatius,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But constant still in mind;</div> -<div class="line">Thrice thirty thousand foes before,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the broad flood behind.</div> -<div class="line">“Down with him!” cried false Sextus,</div> -<div class="line indent2">With a smile on his pale face.</div> -<div class="line">“Now yield thee,” cried Lars Porsena,</div> -<div class="line indent2">“Now yield thee to our grace.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Round turned he, as not deigning</div> -<div class="line indent2">Those craven ranks to see;</div> -<div class="line">Nought spake he to Lars Porsena,</div> -<div class="line indent2">To Sextus nought spake he;</div> -<div class="line">But he saw on Palatinus</div> -<div class="line indent2">The white porch of his home;</div> -<div class="line">And he spake to the noble river</div> -<div class="line indent2">That rolls by the towers of Rome.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“O Tiber! father Tiber!</div> -<div class="line indent2">To whom the Romans pray,</div> -<div class="line">A Roman’s life, a Roman’s arms</div> -<div class="line indent2">Take thou in charge this day!”</div> -<div class="line">So he spake, and speaking sheathèd</div> -<div class="line indent2">The good sword by his side,</div> -<div class="line">And with his harness on his back</div> -<div class="line indent2">Plunged headlong in the tide.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_109" id="Page_109">109</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">No sound of joy or sorrow</div> -<div class="line indent2">Was heard from either bank;</div> -<div class="line">But friends and foes in dumb surprise,</div> -<div class="line">With parted lips and straining eyes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Stood gazing where he sank;</div> -<div class="line">And when above the surges</div> -<div class="line indent2">They saw his crest appear,</div> -<div class="line">All Rome sent forth a rapturous cry,</div> -<div class="line">And even the ranks of Tuscany</div> -<div class="line indent2">Could scarce forbear to cheer.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But fiercely ran the current,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Swollen high by months of rain:</div> -<div class="line">And fast his blood was flowing;</div> -<div class="line indent2">And he was sore in pain,</div> -<div class="line">And heavy with his armour,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And spent with changing blows:</div> -<div class="line">And oft they thought him sinking,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But still again he rose.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Never, I ween, did swimmer,</div> -<div class="line indent2">In such an evil case,</div> -<div class="line">Struggle through such a raging flood</div> -<div class="line indent2">Safe to the landing-place:</div> -<div class="line">But his limbs were borne up bravely</div> -<div class="line indent2">By the brave heart within,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_110" id="Page_110">110</a></span> -<div class="line">And our good father Tiber</div> -<div class="line indent2">Bare bravely up his chin.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Curse on him!” quoth false Sextus;</div> -<div class="line indent2">“Will not the villain drown?</div> -<div class="line">But for this stay ere close of day</div> -<div class="line indent2">We should have sacked the town!”</div> -<div class="line">“Heaven help him!” quoth Lars Porsena,</div> -<div class="line indent2">“And bring him safe to shore;</div> -<div class="line">For such a gallant feat of arms</div> -<div class="line indent2">Was never seen before.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And now he feels the bottom;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Now on dry earth he stands;</div> -<div class="line">Now round him throng the Fathers</div> -<div class="line indent2">To press his gory hands;</div> -<div class="line">And now with shouts and clapping,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And noise of weeping loud,</div> -<div class="line">He enters through the River-Gate,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Borne by the joyous crowd.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They gave him of the corn-land,</div> -<div class="line indent2">That was of public right,</div> -<div class="line">As much as two strong oxen</div> -<div class="line indent2">Could plough from morn till night;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_111" id="Page_111">111</a></span> -<div class="line">And they made a molten image,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And set it up on high,</div> -<div class="line">And there it stands unto this day</div> -<div class="line indent2">To witness if I lie.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">It stands in the Comitium</div> -<div class="line indent2">Plain for all folk to see;</div> -<div class="line">Horatius in his harness,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Halting upon one knee:</div> -<div class="line">And underneath is written,</div> -<div class="line indent2">In letters all of gold,</div> -<div class="line">How valiantly he kept the bridge</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the brave days of old.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And still his name sounds stirring</div> -<div class="line indent2">Unto the men of Rome,</div> -<div class="line">As the trumpet-blast that cries to them</div> -<div class="line indent2">To charge the Volscian home;</div> -<div class="line">And wives still pray to Juno</div> -<div class="line indent2">For boys with hearts as bold</div> -<div class="line">As his who kept the bridge so well</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the brave days of old.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And in the nights of winter,</div> -<div class="line indent2">When the cold north winds blow,</div> -<div class="line">And the long howling of the wolves</div> -<div class="line indent2">Is heard amidst the snow;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_112" id="Page_112">112</a></span> -<div class="line">When round the lonely cottage</div> -<div class="line indent2">Roars loud the tempest’s din,</div> -<div class="line">And the good logs of Algidus</div> -<div class="line indent2">Roar louder yet within;</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When the oldest cask is opened,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the largest lamp is lit;</div> -<div class="line">When the chestnuts glow in the embers,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the kid turns on the spit;</div> -<div class="line">When young and old in circle</div> -<div class="line indent2">Around the firebrands close;</div> -<div class="line">When the girls are weaving baskets,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the lads are shaping bows;</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">When the goodman mends his armour</div> -<div class="line indent2">And trims his helmet’s plume;</div> -<div class="line">When the goodwife’s shuttle merrily</div> -<div class="line indent2">Goes flashing through the loom;</div> -<div class="line">With weeping and with laughter</div> -<div class="line indent2">Still is the story told,</div> -<div class="line">How well Horatius kept the bridge</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the brave days of old.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Lord Macaulay.</p> - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_24_24" id="Footnote_24_24"></a><a href="#FNanchor_24_24"><span class="label">[24]</span></a> <em>must</em>: grape-juice.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_25_25" id="Footnote_25_25"></a><a href="#FNanchor_25_25"><span class="label">[25]</span></a> <em>Lucumo</em>: Etruscan nobleman.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_113" id="Page_113">113</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="INDEX_OF_AUTHORS" id="INDEX_OF_AUTHORS"></a>INDEX OF AUTHORS</h2> - -<table summary="Index of Authors"> -<tr> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Allingham, William</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34">34</a>, <a href="#Page_48">48</a>, <a href="#Page_68">68</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Anonymous</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a>–<a href="#Page_8">8</a>, <a href="#Page_11">11</a>, <a href="#Page_13">13</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Blake, William</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45">45</a>, <a href="#Page_65">65</a>, <a href="#Page_66">66</a>, <a href="#Page_80">80</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Byron, Lord</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Coleridge, Samuel Taylor</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Coleridge, Sara</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Corbet, Richard</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Davidson, John</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_73">73</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Dobell, Sydney</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Field, Eugene</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36">36</a>, <a href="#Page_42">42</a>, <a href="#Page_47">47</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Follen, Eliza Lee</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Gale, Norman</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Herrick, Robert</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_75">75</a>, <a href="#Page_76">76</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Hogg, James</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_58">58</a>, <a href="#Page_62">62</a>, <a href="#Page_72">72</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Howitt, Mary</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Howitt, William</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Keats, John</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Lowell, Amy</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Macaulay, Lord</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Maugham, H. N.</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Miller, Joaquin</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_114" id="Page_114">114</a></span> -Moore, Thomas</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Prentiss, Mrs E.</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ramal, Walter</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Rands, William Brighty</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12">12</a>, <a href="#Page_44">44</a>, <a href="#Page_54">54</a>, <a href="#Page_69">69</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Read, Thomas Buchanan</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Robertson, W. Graham</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_22">22</a>, <a href="#Page_39">39</a>, <a href="#Page_41">41</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Rogers, Samuel</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Roscoe, William</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Scott, Sir Walter</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Shakespeare, William</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15">15</a>, <a href="#Page_28">28</a>, <a href="#Page_51">51</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Shelley, Percy Bysshe</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Stevenson, Robert Louis</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Swinburne, Algernon Charles</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Taylor, Ann and Jane</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a>, <a href="#Page_14">14</a>, <a href="#Page_71">71</a></td> -</tr> - -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Tennyson, Lord</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Thornbury, G. W.</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Wordsworth, William</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_16">16</a>, <a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_115" id="Page_115">115</a></span> -</div> - - -<h2><a name="INDEX_OF_FIRST_LINES" id="INDEX_OF_FIRST_LINES"></a>INDEX OF FIRST LINES</h2> - -<table summary="Index of First Lines"> -<tr> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Robin Redbreast in a cage</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">At early dawn through London you must go</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">At evening when the lamp is lit</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_38">38</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Awake, awake, my little boy</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Behind him lay the gray Azores</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_86">86</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Bird of the wilderness</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_72">72</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Blow, wind, blow! and go, mill, go!</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Bonny Kilmeny gaed up the glen</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_58">58</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Build me a castle of sand</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_39">39</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">“Bunches of grapes,” says Timothy</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_35">35</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Buttercups and daisies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Cold and raw</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Come, take up your hats, and away let us haste</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_30">30</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Come unto these yellow sands</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Curly Locks! Curly Locks!</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Daffodils</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Do you know what the birds say? The sparrow, the dove</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_25">25</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Draw a pail of water</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Drummer-boy, drummer-boy, where is your drum</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_44">44</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Fair daffodils, we weep to see</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_15">15</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Farewell rewards and fairies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_55">55</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">First, April, she with mellow showers</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">First came the primrose</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_26">26</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Go, pretty child, and bear this flower</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_76">76</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Good-bye, good-bye to Summer</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_68">68</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Here in the country’s heart</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_29">29</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_116" id="Page_116">116</a></span> -Here’s another day, dear</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_22">22</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Hush a while, my darling, for the long day closes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_41">41</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I am the Cat of Cats. I am</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I had a dove, and the sweet dove died</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_67">67</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I had a little nut-tree</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I have a little sister, they call her Peep, Peep</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I like little Pussy, her coat is so warm</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_11">11</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I saw a ship a-sailing</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_4">4</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I wander’d lonely as a cloud</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_16">16</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">In holly hedges starving birds</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_73">73</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">In marble walls as white as milk</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">It was a black Bunny, with white in its head</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_69">69</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">January brings the snow</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_17">17</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Jenny Wren fell sick</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_2">2</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Lars Porsena of Clusium</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_88">88</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Little baby, lay your head</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_14">14</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Little Lamb, who made thee?</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Matthew, Mark, Luke and John</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_2">2</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Merry are the bells, and merry would they ring</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_1">1</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Mine be a cot beside the hill</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_33">33</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">My maid Mary she minds the dairy</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_5">5</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">My soul is an enchanted boat</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_78">78</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O hush thee, my baby, thy sire was a knight</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_46">46</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O look at the moon</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_8">8</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O Mother-my-Love, if you’ll give me your hand</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_47">47</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Once on a time an old red hen</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_36">36</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Once there was a little kitty</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_10">10</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Over hill, over dale</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Piping down the valleys wild</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_80">80</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Pussy-cat Mew jumped over a coal</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_3">3</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_117" id="Page_117">117</a></span> -Ring-ting! I wish I were a Primrose</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_34">34</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Sea shell, Sea shell</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_12">12</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Sleep, baby, sleep</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Sweet and low, sweet and low</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_45">45</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Thank you, pretty cow, that made</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_71">71</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Assyrian came down like a wolf on the fold</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_81">81</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The cock is crowing</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_24">24</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The cock’s on the housetop</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The cuckoo’s a bonny bird</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The garden was pleasant with old-fashioned flowers</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_54">54</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The north wind doth blow</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_7">7</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The wind one morning sprang up from sleep</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_19">19</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_63">63</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">There was a Knight of Bethlehem</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_65">65</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Thou whose birth on earth</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_77">77</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Tiger, Tiger, burning bright</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_66">66</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Toll the lilies’ silver bells</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_57">57</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Twinkle, twinkle, little star</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_9">9</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Under the greenwood tree</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_28">28</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Up from the south at break of day</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_83">83</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Up the airy mountain</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_48">48</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">We’ve plough’d our land, we’ve sown our seed</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_13">13</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">What sweeter music can we bring</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_75">75</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">When the wind is in the East</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_6">6</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Where the bee sucks there suck I</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_52">52</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Where the pools are bright and deep</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_62">62</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Wynken, Blynken, and Nod one night</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_42">42</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ye elves of hills, brooks, standing lakes and groves</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_51">51</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">You spotted snakes with double tongue</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_53">53</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_118" id="Page_118">118</a></span> -</div> - - -<p class="center ornate"><a name="Cambridge" id="Cambridge"></a>Cambridge:</p> - -<p class="center">PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<div class="mt3"> </div> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<h1>The Cambridge Book<br /> -<span>of</span><br /> -Poetry for Children</h1> -<p class="center p120 mt3"><strong>PART II</strong></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<p class="center">CAMBRIDGE UNIVERSITY PRESS</p> - -<p class="center"><span class="smcap">C. F. CLAY, Manager</span></p> - -<p class="center"><span class="ornate">London</span>: FETTER LANE, E.C.<br /> -<span class="ornate">Edinburgh</span>: 100 PRINCES STREET</p> - -<div class="figcenter width150"> -<img src="images/colophon.jpg" width="150" height="158" alt="Colophon" /> -</div> - -<p class="center">Bombay, Calcutta and Madras: <span class="smcap">MACMILLAN AND CO., Ltd.</span></p> -<p class="center">Toronto: <span class="smcap">J. M. DENT AND SONS, Ltd.</span></p> -<p class="center">Tokyo: THE MARUZEN-KABUSHIKI-KAISHA</p> - - -<p class="center">Copyrighted in the United States of America by<br /> -G. P. PUTNAM’S SONS,<br /> -<span class="smcap">2, 4 and 6, West 45th Street, New York City</span></p> - - -<p class="center"><em>All rights reserved</em></p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<p class="center p180"><strong>The Cambridge Book<br /> -<span class="p80">of</span><br /> -Poetry for Children</strong></p> - -<p class="center mt3">Edited by<br /> -<span class="p140">KENNETH GRAHAME</span></p> - -<p class="center">Author of <em>The Golden Age</em>, <em>Dream Days</em>, <em>The Wind -in the Willows</em>, <em>etc.</em></p> - -<p class="center mt3">PART II</p> - -<p class="center p120 mt3">Cambridge:<br /> -at the University Press<br /> -1916</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<h2><a name="NOTE2" id="NOTE2"></a>NOTE</h2> - -<p>The Editor has to express his thanks for permission to use copyright -matter to the Editor of <em>A Sailor’s Garland</em> and its publishers, Messrs -Methuen, to Mr Elkin Mathews for the poem by Richard Hovey, to Messrs -G. Routledge & Sons for a poem by Joaquin Miller.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> - -<h2><a name="contents2" id="contents2"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table summary="Contents Part II"> -<tr> -<td> </td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc" colspan="3">NATURE, COUNTRY AND THE OPEN AIR</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">To Meadows</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>R. Herrick</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#To_Meadows">1</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Brook</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>A. Tennyson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Brook">2</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Recollections of Early Childhood</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Wordsworth</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Recollections_of_Early_Childhood">4</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">To Autumn</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>J. Keats</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#To_Autumn">7</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ode to the West Wind</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>P. B. Shelley</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Ode_to_the_West_Wind">9</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">To a Skylark</td> -<td class="tdc2">”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#To_a_Skylark">13</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Moon-Goddess</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Ben Jonson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Moon-Goddess">18</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Home-Thoughts from Abroad</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>R. Browning</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Home-Thoughts_from_Abroad">19</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Home-Thoughts from the Sea</td> -<td class="tdc">”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Home-Thoughts_from_the_Sea">20</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">GREEN SEAS AND SAILOR MEN</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="3"><p class="division">1. <em>The Call of the Sea</em></p></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ye Mariners of England</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>T. Campbell</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Ye_Mariners_of_England">21</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Secret of the Sea</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>H. W. Longfellow</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Secret_of_the_Sea">22</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Dutch Picture</td> -<td class="tdc2">”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Dutch_Picture">24</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Sea Memories</td> -<td class="tdc2">”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Sea_Memories">26</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Sea Gypsy</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Richard Hovey</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Sea_Gypsy">27</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Greenwich Pensioner</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Greenwich_Pensioner">28</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Press-Gang</td> -<td class="tdl"></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Press-gang">30</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Sea Dirge</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Shakespeare</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Sea_Dirge">30</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td colspan="3"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ccvi" id="Page_ccvi">ccvi</a></span><p class="division">2. <em>Its Lawless Joys</em></p></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Old Buccaneer</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>C. Kingsley</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Old_Buccaneer">31</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Salcombe Seaman’s Flaunt to the Proud Pirate</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Salcombe_Seamans_Flaunt_to_the_Proud_Pirate">34</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Smuggler</td> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Smuggler">36</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">ARMS AND THE MAN</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Maid</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Theodore Roberts</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Maid">37</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Eve of Waterloo</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Lord Byron</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Eve_of_Waterloo">39</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Glory that was Greece</td> -<td class="tdc2">”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Glory_that_was_Greece">43</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Battle Hymn of the American Republic</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Julia Ward Howe</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Battle_Hymn_of_the_American_Republic">47</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">To Lucasta, on going to the Wars</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Richard Lovelace</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#To_Lucasta_on_going_to_the_Wars">48</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Black Prince</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Sir Walter Scott</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Black_Prince">49</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Burial of Sir John Moore</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Charles Wolfe</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Burial_of_Sir_John_Moore">50</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">How Sleep the Brave</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>William Collins</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#How_Sleep_the_Brave">52</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Soldier, Rest!</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Sir Walter Scott</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Soldier_Rest">53</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">THE OTHER SIDE OF IT</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">1. The Patriot</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Robert Browning</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Patriot">54</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2. For those who fail</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Joaquin Miller</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#For_those_who_fail">56</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">3. Keeping On</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>A. H. Clough</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Keeping_On">57</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">STORY-POEMS</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Lady of Shalott</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Alfred Tennyson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Lady_of_Shalott">58</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Forsaken Merman</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Matthew Arnold</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Forsaken_Merman">65</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Legend Beautiful</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>H. W. Longfellow</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Legend_Beautiful">72</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Abou Ben Adhem</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Leigh Hunt</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Abou_Ben_Adhem">77</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_ccvii" id="Page_ccvii">ccvii</a></span> -The Sands of Dee</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Charles Kingsley</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Sands_of_Dee">78</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Lochinvar</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Sir Walter Scott</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Lochinvar">79</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">DAY-DREAMS</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Dreams to Sell</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>T. L. Beddoes</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Dreams_to_Sell">83</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Lost Bower</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>E. B. Browning</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Lost_Bower">84</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Echo and the Ferry</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Jean Ingelow</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Echo_and_the_Ferry">92</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Poor Susan’s Dream</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Wordsworth</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Poor_Susans_Dream">100</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Fancy</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>W. Shakespeare</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Fancy">101</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">TWO HOME-COMINGS</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">1. The Good Woman Made Welcome in Heaven</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>R. Crashaw</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Good_Woman_Made_Welcome_in_Heaven">102</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">2. The Soldier Relieved</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>R. Browning</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Soldier_Relieved">103</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">WHEN KNIGHTS WERE BOLD</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Hunting Song</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Sir Walter Scott</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Hunting_Song">104</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The Riding to the Tournament</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>G. W. Thornbury</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#The_Riding_to_the_Tournament">105</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdc pt1" colspan="3">VARIOUS</td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A Red, Red Rose</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Robert Burns</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#A_Red_Red_Rose">113</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Blow, Bugle, Blow</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Alfred Tennyson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Blow_Bugle_Blow">114</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">West and East</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Matthew Arnold</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#West_and_East">115</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Genseric</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>Owen Meredith</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Genseric">116</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Kubla Khan</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>S. T. Coleridge</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Kubla_Khan">118</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Something to Remember</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>R. Browning</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Something_to_Remember">120</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ring Out, Wild Bells</td> -<td class="tdl"><em>A. Tennyson</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Ring_Out_Wild_Bells">121</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_201" id="Page_201">201</a></span> -<h2><a name="NATURE_COUNTRY_AND_THE_OPEN_AIR" id="NATURE_COUNTRY_AND_THE_OPEN_AIR"></a>NATURE, COUNTRY, AND THE OPEN AIR</h2> -</div> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="To_Meadows" id="To_Meadows"></a><span class="smcap">To Meadows</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ye have been fresh and green,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Ye have been fill’d with flowers;</div> -<div class="line">And ye the walks have been</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where maids have spent their hours.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">You have beheld how they</div> -<div class="line indent2">With wicker arks did come</div> -<div class="line">To kiss and bear away</div> -<div class="line indent2">The richer cowslips home.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">You’ve heard them sweetly sing,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And seen them in a round:</div> -<div class="line">Each virgin like a spring,</div> -<div class="line indent2">With honeysuckles crown’d.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But now we see none here</div> -<div class="line indent2">Whose silv’ry feet did tread</div> -<div class="line">And with dishevelled hair</div> -<div class="line indent2">Adorn’d this smoother mead.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Like unthrifts, having spent</div> -<div class="line indent2">Your stock, and needy grown,</div> -<div class="line">You’re left here to lament</div> -<div class="line indent2">Your poor estates, alone.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Herrick.</p> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_202" id="Page_202">202</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Brook" id="The_Brook"></a><span class="smcap">The Brook</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I come from haunts of coot and hern<a name="FNanchor_26_26" id="FNanchor_26_26"></a><a href="#Footnote_26_26" class="fnanchor">[26]</a>,</div> -<div class="line indent2">I make a sudden sally,</div> -<div class="line">And sparkle out among the fern,</div> -<div class="line indent2">To bicker down a valley.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">By thirty hills I hurry down,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Or slip between the ridges,</div> -<div class="line">By twenty thorps<a name="FNanchor_27_27" id="FNanchor_27_27"></a><a href="#Footnote_27_27" class="fnanchor">[27]</a>, a little town,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And half a hundred bridges.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I chatter over stony ways</div> -<div class="line indent2">In little sharps and trebles,</div> -<div class="line">I bubble into eddying bays,</div> -<div class="line indent2">I babble on the pebbles.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">With many a curve my banks I fret</div> -<div class="line indent2">By many a field and fallow,</div> -<div class="line">And many a fairy foreland set</div> -<div class="line indent2">With willow-weed and mallow.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I chatter, chatter, as I flow</div> -<div class="line indent2">To join the brimming river,</div> -<div class="line">For men may come and men may go,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But I go on for ever.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I wind about and in and out,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_203" id="Page_203">203</a></span> -<div class="line indent2">With here a blossom sailing,</div> -<div class="line">And here and there a lusty trout,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And here and there a grayling.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And here and there a foamy flake</div> -<div class="line indent2">Upon me, as I travel</div> -<div class="line">With many a silvery waterbreak</div> -<div class="line indent2">Above the golden gravel.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I steal by lawns and grassy plots,</div> -<div class="line indent2">I slide by hazel covers;</div> -<div class="line">I move the sweet forget-me-nots</div> -<div class="line indent2">That grow for happy lovers.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I slip, I slide, I gloom, I glance,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Among my skimming swallows;</div> -<div class="line">I make the netted sunbeam dance</div> -<div class="line indent2">Against my sandy shallows.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I murmur under moon and stars</div> -<div class="line indent2">In brambly wildernesses;</div> -<div class="line">I linger by my shingly bars;</div> -<div class="line indent2">I loiter round my cresses;</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And out again I curve and flow</div> -<div class="line indent2">To join the brimming river,</div> -<div class="line">For men may come and men may go,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But I go on for ever.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Alfred, Lord Tennyson.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_26_26" id="Footnote_26_26"></a><a href="#FNanchor_26_26"><span class="label">[26]</span></a> <em>hern</em>: heron.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_27_27" id="Footnote_27_27"></a><a href="#FNanchor_27_27"><span class="label">[27]</span></a> <em>thorps</em>: villages.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_204" id="Page_204">204</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Recollections_of_Early_Childhood" id="Recollections_of_Early_Childhood"></a><span class="smcap">Recollections of Early Childhood</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The earth, and every common sight,</div> -<div class="line indent4">To me did seem</div> -<div class="line indent2">Apparell’d in celestial light,</div> -<div class="line">The glory and the freshness of a dream.</div> -<div class="line">It is not now as it hath been of yore;—</div> -<div class="line indent2">Turn wheresoe’er I may,</div> -<div class="line indent6">By night or day,</div> -<div class="line">The things which I have seen I now can see no more.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">The rainbow comes and goes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And lovely is the rose;</div> -<div class="line indent2">The moon doth with delight</div> -<div class="line">Look round her when the heavens are bare;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Waters on a starry night</div> -<div class="line indent4">Are beautiful and fair;</div> -<div class="line indent2">The sunshine is a glorious birth;</div> -<div class="line indent2">But yet I know, where’er I go,</div> -<div class="line">That there hath passed away a glory from the earth.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Now, while the birds thus sing a joyous song,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And while the young lambs bound</div> -<div class="line indent2">As to the tabor’s sound,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_205" id="Page_205">205</a></span> -<div class="line">To me alone there came a thought of grief:</div> -<div class="line">A timely utterance gave that thought relief,</div> -<div class="line indent6">And I again am strong.</div> -<div class="line">The cataracts blow their trumpets from the steep;</div> -<div class="line indent2">No more shall grief of mine the season wrong;</div> -<div class="line indent2">I hear the echoes through the mountains throng,</div> -<div class="line">The winds come to me from the fields of sleep,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And all the earth is gay;</div> -<div class="line indent6">Land and sea</div> -<div class="line indent2">Give themselves up to jollity,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And with the heart of May</div> -<div class="line indent2">Doth every beast keep holiday;—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Thou Child of Joy,</div> -<div class="line">Shout round me, let me hear thy shouts, thou happy Shepherd-boy!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ye blessed creatures, I have heard the call</div> -<div class="line indent2">Ye to each other make; I see</div> -<div class="line">The heavens laugh with you in your jubilee;</div> -<div class="line indent2">My heart is at your festival,</div> -<div class="line indent2">My head hath its coronal,</div> -<div class="line">The fulness of your bliss, I feel—I feel it all.</div> -<div class="line indent4">O evil day! if I were sullen</div> -<div class="line indent6">While Earth herself is adorning,</div> -<div class="line indent6">This sweet May morning,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_206" id="Page_206">206</a></span> -<div class="line indent4">And the children are culling</div> -<div class="line indent6">On every side,</div> -<div class="line indent2">In a thousand valleys far and wide,</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Fresh flowers; while the sun shines warm,</div> -<div class="line">And the babe leaps up on his mother’s arm:—</div> -<div class="line indent2">I hear, I hear, with joy I hear!</div> -<div class="line indent2">—But there’s a tree, of many one,</div> -<div class="line">A single field which I have look’d upon,</div> -<div class="line">Both of them speak of something that is gone:</div> -<div class="line indent4">The pansy at my feet</div> -<div class="line indent4">Doth the same tale repeat:</div> -<div class="line">Whither is fled the visionary gleam?</div> -<div class="line">Where is it now, the glory and the dream?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Our birth is but a sleep and a forgetting:</div> -<div class="line">The Soul that rises with us, our life’s Star,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Hath had elsewhere its setting,</div> -<div class="line indent6">And cometh from afar:</div> -<div class="line indent4">Not in entire forgetfulness,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And not in utter nakedness,</div> -<div class="line">But trailing clouds of glory do we come</div> -<div class="line indent4">From God, who is our home:</div> -<div class="line">Heaven lies about us in our infancy!</div> -<div class="line">Shades of the prison-house begin to close</div> -<div class="line indent4">Upon the growing Boy,</div> -<div class="line">But he beholds the light, and whence it flows,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_207" id="Page_207">207</a></span> -<div class="line indent2">He sees it in his joy;</div> -<div class="line">The Youth, who daily further from the east</div> -<div class="line indent2">Must travel, still is Nature’s priest,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And by the vision splendid</div> -<div class="line indent4">Is on his way attended;</div> -<div class="line">At length the man perceives it die away,</div> -<div class="line">And fade into the light of common day.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Wordsworth.</p> - -<p>(<em>This is only a portion of the poem, which later you should take an -opportunity of reading as a whole.</em>)</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="To_Autumn" id="To_Autumn"></a><span class="smcap">To Autumn</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Close bosom-friend of the maturing sun;</div> -<div class="line">Conspiring with him how to load and bless</div> -<div class="line indent2">With fruit the vines that round the thatch-eaves run;</div> -<div class="line">To bend with apples the moss’d cottage-trees,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And fill all fruit with ripeness to the core;</div> -<div class="line indent2">To swell the gourd, and plump the hazel shells</div> -<div class="line indent2">With a sweet kernel; to set budding more,</div> -<div class="line">And still more, later flowers for the bees,</div> -<div class="line">Until they think warm days will never cease,</div> -<div class="line indent2">For Summer has o’er-brimm’d their clammy cells.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_208" id="Page_208">208</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Who hath not seen Thee oft amid thy store?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sometimes whoever seeks abroad may find</div> -<div class="line">Thee sitting careless on a granary floor,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Thy hair soft-lifted by the winnowing wind;</div> -<div class="line">Or on a half-reap’d furrow sound asleep,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Drowsed with the fume of poppies, while thy hook</div> -<div class="line indent4">Spares the next swath and all its twinèd flowers;</div> -<div class="line">And sometimes like a gleaner thou dost keep</div> -<div class="line indent2">Steady thy laden head across a brook;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Or by a cider-press, with patient look,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Thou watchest the last oozings hours by hours.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Where are the songs of Spring? Ay, where are they?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Think not of them, thou hast thy music too,—</div> -<div class="line">While barrèd clouds bloom the soft-dying day,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And touch the stubble-plains with rosy hue;</div> -<div class="line">Then in a wailful choir the small gnats mourn</div> -<div class="line indent2">Among the river sallows<a name="FNanchor_28_28" id="FNanchor_28_28"></a><a href="#Footnote_28_28" class="fnanchor">[28]</a>, borne aloft</div> -<div class="line indent4">Or sinking as the light wind lives or dies;</div> -<div class="line">And full-grown lambs loud bleat from hilly bourn<a name="FNanchor_29_29" id="FNanchor_29_29"></a><a href="#Footnote_29_29" class="fnanchor">[29]</a>;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hedge-crickets sing; and now with treble soft</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_209" id="Page_209">209</a></span> -<div class="line indent2">The redbreast whistles from a garden-croft<a name="FNanchor_30_30" id="FNanchor_30_30"></a><a href="#Footnote_30_30" class="fnanchor">[30]</a>;</div> -<div class="line indent4">And gathering swallows twitter in the skies.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">John Keats.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_28_28" id="Footnote_28_28"></a><a href="#FNanchor_28_28"><span class="label">[28]</span></a> <em>sallows</em>: willows.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_29_29" id="Footnote_29_29"></a><a href="#FNanchor_29_29"><span class="label">[29]</span></a> <em>bourn</em>: stream, water-course.</p> -</div> - -<div class="footnote"> -<p><a name="Footnote_30_30" id="Footnote_30_30"></a><a href="#FNanchor_30_30"><span class="label">[30]</span></a> <em>croft</em>: enclosure.</p> -</div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Ode_to_the_West_Wind" id="Ode_to_the_West_Wind"></a><span class="smcap">Ode to the West Wind</span></h3> -</div> - -<p class="center p120">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being,</div> -<div class="line">Thou from whose unseen presence the leaves dead</div> -<div class="line">Are driven, like ghosts from an enchanter fleeing,</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Yellow, and black, and pale, and hectic red,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Pestilence-stricken multitudes! O thou</div> -<div class="line">Who chariotest to their dark wintry bed</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">The wingèd seeds, where they lie cold and low,</div> -<div class="line">Each like a corpse within its grave, until</div> -<div class="line indent2">Thine azure sister of the Spring shall blow</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_210" id="Page_210">210</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Her clarion o’er the dreaming earth, and fill</div> -<div class="line indent2">(Driving sweet buds like flocks to feed in air)</div> -<div class="line">With living hues and odours plain and hill:</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Wild Spirit, which art moving everywhere;</div> -<div class="line">Destroyer and preserver; hear, O hear!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="center p120">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thou on whose stream, ’mid the steep sky’s commotion,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Loose clouds like earth’s decaying leaves are shed,</div> -<div class="line">Shook from the tangled boughs of heaven and ocean,</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Angels of rain and lightning! there are spread</div> -<div class="line">On the blue surface of thine airy surge,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Like the bright hair uplifted from the head</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Of some fierce Maenad<a name="FNanchor_31_31" id="FNanchor_31_31"></a><a href="#Footnote_31_31" class="fnanchor">[31]</a>, even from the dim verge</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of the horizon to the zenith’s height,</div> -<div class="line">The locks of the approaching storm. Thou dirge</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Of the dying year, to which this closing night</div> -<div class="line">Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Vaulted with all thy congregated might</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_211" id="Page_211">211</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere</div> -<div class="line">Black rain, and fire, and hail, will burst: O hear!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="center p120">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thou who didst waken from his summer dreams</div> -<div class="line indent2">The blue Mediterranean, where he lay,</div> -<div class="line">Lull’d by the coil<a name="FNanchor_32_32" id="FNanchor_32_32"></a><a href="#Footnote_32_32" class="fnanchor">[32]</a> of his crystalline streams,</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Beside a pumice<a name="FNanchor_33_33" id="FNanchor_33_33"></a><a href="#Footnote_33_33" class="fnanchor">[33]</a> isle in Baiae’s bay,</div> -<div class="line">And saw in sleep old palaces and towers</div> -<div class="line indent2">Quivering within the wave’s intenser day,</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">All overgrown with azure moss, and flowers</div> -<div class="line indent2">So sweet, the sense faints picturing them! Thou</div> -<div class="line">For whose path the Atlantic’s level powers</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Cleave themselves into chasms, while far below</div> -<div class="line">The sea-blooms and the oozy woods which wear</div> -<div class="line indent2">The sapless foliage of the ocean, know</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thy voice, and suddenly grow grey with fear,</div> -<div class="line">And tremble and despoil themselves: O hear!</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="center p120">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">If I were a dead leaf thou mightest bear;</div> -<div class="line indent2">If I were a swift cloud to fly with thee;</div> -<div class="line">A wave to pant beneath thy power, and share</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">The impulse of thy strength, only less free</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_212" id="Page_212">212</a></span> -<div class="line">Than thou, O uncontrollable! if even</div> -<div class="line indent2">I were as in my boyhood, and could be</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The comrade of thy wanderings over heaven,</div> -<div class="line indent2">As then, when to outstrip thy skiey speed</div> -<div class="line">Scarce seem’d a vision—I would ne’er have striven</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">As thus with thee in prayer in my sore need.</div> -<div class="line">O! lift me as a wave, a leaf, a cloud!</div> -<div class="line indent2">I fall upon the thorns of life! I bleed!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A heavy weight of years has chain’d and bow’d</div> -<div class="line">One too like thee—tameless, and swift, and proud.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="center p120">V.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Make me thy lyre, even as the forest is:</div> -<div class="line indent2">What if my leaves are falling like its own?</div> -<div class="line">The tumult of thy mighty harmonies</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Will take from both a deep autumnal tone,</div> -<div class="line">Sweet though in sadness. Be thou, Spirit fierce,</div> -<div class="line indent2">My spirit! Be thou me, impetuous one!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Drive my dead thoughts over the universe,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Like wither’d leaves, to quicken a new birth;</div> -<div class="line">And, by the incantation of this verse,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_213" id="Page_213">213</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Scatter, as from an unextinguish’d hearth</div> -<div class="line">Ashes and sparks, my words among mankind!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Be through my lips to unawaken’d earth</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The trumpet of a prophecy! O Wind,</div> -<div class="line">If Winter comes, can Spring be far behind?</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Percy Bysshe Shelley.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_31_31" id="Footnote_31_31"></a><a href="#FNanchor_31_31"><span class="label">[31]</span></a> <em>Maenad</em>: a priestess of Bacchus, the wine-god.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_32_32" id="Footnote_32_32"></a><a href="#FNanchor_32_32"><span class="label">[32]</span></a> <em>coil</em>: confused noise, murmur.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_33_33" id="Footnote_33_33"></a><a href="#FNanchor_33_33"><span class="label">[33]</span></a> <em>pumice</em>: formed of volcanic lava.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="To_a_Skylark" id="To_a_Skylark"></a><span class="smcap">To a Skylark</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Hail to thee, blithe spirit!</div> -<div class="line indent10">Bird thou never wert—</div> -<div class="line indent6">That from heaven or near it</div> -<div class="line indent10">Pourest thy full heart</div> -<div class="line">In profuse strains of unpremeditated art.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Higher still and higher</div> -<div class="line indent10">From the earth thou springest</div> -<div class="line indent6">Like a cloud of fire;</div> -<div class="line indent10">The blue deep thou wingest,</div> -<div class="line">And singing still dost soar, and soaring ever singest.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">In the golden lightning</div> -<div class="line indent10">Of the sunken sun,</div> -<div class="line indent6">O’er which clouds are bright’ning,</div> -<div class="line indent10">Thou dost float and run,</div> -<div class="line">Like an unbodied joy whose race is just begun.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_214" id="Page_214">214</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">The pale purple even</div> -<div class="line indent10">Melts around thy flight;</div> -<div class="line indent6">Like a star of heaven,</div> -<div class="line indent10">In the broad daylight</div> -<div class="line">Thou art unseen, but yet I hear thy shrill delight.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Keen as are the arrows</div> -<div class="line indent10">Of that silver sphere,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Whose intense lamp narrows</div> -<div class="line indent10">In the white dawn clear,</div> -<div class="line">Until we hardly see, we feel that it is there.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">All the earth and air</div> -<div class="line indent10">With thy voice is loud,</div> -<div class="line indent6">As, when night is bare,</div> -<div class="line indent10">From one lonely cloud</div> -<div class="line">The moon rains out her beams, and heaven is overflow’d.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">What thou art we know not;</div> -<div class="line indent10">What is most like thee?</div> -<div class="line indent6">From rainbow clouds there flow not</div> -<div class="line indent10">Drops so bright to see,</div> -<div class="line">As from thy presence showers a rain of melody:—</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_215" id="Page_215">215</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Like a poet hidden</div> -<div class="line indent10">In the light of thought,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Singing hymns unbidden,</div> -<div class="line indent10">Till the world is wrought</div> -<div class="line">To sympathy with hopes and fears it heeded not:</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Like a high-born maiden</div> -<div class="line indent10">In a palace tower,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Soothing her love-laden</div> -<div class="line indent10">Soul in secret hour</div> -<div class="line">With music sweet as love, which overflows her bower:</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Like a glow-worm golden</div> -<div class="line indent10">In a dell of dew,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Scattering unbeholden</div> -<div class="line indent10">Its aërial hue</div> -<div class="line">Among the flowers and grass which screen it from the view:</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Like a rose embower’d</div> -<div class="line indent10">In its own green leaves,</div> -<div class="line indent6">By warm winds deflower’d,</div> -<div class="line indent10">Till the scent it gives</div> -<div class="line">Makes faint with too much sweet these heavy-wingèd thieves:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_216" id="Page_216">216</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Sound of vernal showers</div> -<div class="line indent10">On the twinkling grass,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Rain-awaken’d flowers—</div> -<div class="line indent10">All that ever was</div> -<div class="line">Joyous and clear and fresh—thy music doth surpass.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Teach us, sprite or bird,</div> -<div class="line indent10">What sweet thoughts are thine:</div> -<div class="line indent6">I have never heard</div> -<div class="line indent10">Praise of love or wine</div> -<div class="line">That panted forth a flood of rapture so divine.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Chorus hymeneal</div> -<div class="line indent10">Or triumphal chant,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Match’d with thine would be all</div> -<div class="line indent10">But an empty vaunt—</div> -<div class="line">A thing wherein we feel there is some hidden want.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">What objects are the fountains</div> -<div class="line indent10">Of thy happy strain?</div> -<div class="line indent6">What fields, or waves, or mountains?</div> -<div class="line indent10">What shapes of sky or plain?</div> -<div class="line">What love of thine own kind? what ignorance of pain?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_217" id="Page_217">217</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">With thy clear keen joyance</div> -<div class="line indent10">Languor cannot be:</div> -<div class="line indent6">Shadow of annoyance</div> -<div class="line indent10">Never came near thee:</div> -<div class="line">Thou lovest, but ne’er knew love’s sad satiety.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Waking or asleep,</div> -<div class="line indent10">Thou of death must deem</div> -<div class="line indent6">Things more true and deep</div> -<div class="line indent10">Than we mortals dream,</div> -<div class="line">Or how could thy notes flow in such a crystal stream?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">We look before and after,</div> -<div class="line indent10">And pine for what is not:</div> -<div class="line indent6">Our sincerest laughter</div> -<div class="line indent10">With some pain is fraught;</div> -<div class="line">Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Yet if we could scorn</div> -<div class="line indent10">Hate and pride and fear,</div> -<div class="line indent6">If we were things born</div> -<div class="line indent10">Not to shed a tear,</div> -<div class="line">I know not how thy joy we ever should come near.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_218" id="Page_218">218</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Better than all measures</div> -<div class="line indent10">Of delightful sound,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Better than all treasures</div> -<div class="line indent10">That in books are found,</div> -<div class="line">Thy skill to poet were, thou scorner of the ground!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Teach me half the gladness</div> -<div class="line indent10">That thy brain must know;</div> -<div class="line indent6">Such harmonious madness</div> -<div class="line indent10">From my lips would flow,</div> -<div class="line">The world should listen then, as I am listening now.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Percy Bysshe Shelley.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Moon-Goddess" id="The_Moon-Goddess"></a><span class="smcap">The Moon-Goddess</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Queen and huntress, chaste and fair,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Now the sun is laid to sleep,</div> -<div class="line">Seated in thy silver chair,</div> -<div class="line indent2">State in wonted manner keep:</div> -<div class="line indent4">Hesperus entreats thy light,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Goddess excellently bright.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Earth, let not thy envious shade</div> -<div class="line indent2">Dare itself to interpose;</div> -<div class="line">Cynthia’s shining orb was made</div> -<div class="line indent2">Heaven to clear when day did close:</div> -<div class="line indent4">Bless us then with wishèd sight,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Goddess excellently bright.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_219" id="Page_219">219</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Lay thy bow of pearl apart,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And thy crystal-shining quiver;</div> -<div class="line">Give unto the flying hart</div> -<div class="line indent2">Space to breathe, how short soever:</div> -<div class="line indent4">Thou that mak’st a day of night—</div> -<div class="line indent4">Goddess excellently bright.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Ben Jonson.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Home-Thoughts_from_Abroad" id="Home-Thoughts_from_Abroad"></a><span class="smcap">Home-Thoughts from Abroad</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O, to be in England</div> -<div class="line">Now that April’s there,</div> -<div class="line">And whoever wakes in England</div> -<div class="line">Sees, some morning, unaware,</div> -<div class="line">That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf</div> -<div class="line">Round the elm-tree bole are in tiny leaf,</div> -<div class="line">While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough</div> -<div class="line">In England—now!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And after April, when May follows,</div> -<div class="line">And the white throat builds, and all the swallows!</div> -<div class="line">Hark, where my blossom’d pear-tree in the hedge</div> -<div class="line">Leans to the field and scatters on the clover</div> -<div class="line">Blossoms and dewdrops—at the bent spray’s edge—</div> -<div class="line">That’s the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_220" id="Page_220">220</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Lest you should think he never could recapture</div> -<div class="line">The first fine careless rapture!</div> -<div class="line">And though the fields look rough with hoary dew,</div> -<div class="line">All will be gay when noontide wakes anew</div> -<div class="line">The buttercups, the little children’s dower</div> -<div class="line">—Far brighter than this gaudy melon-flower!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Browning.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Home-Thoughts_from_the_Sea" id="Home-Thoughts_from_the_Sea"></a><span class="smcap">Home-Thoughts from the Sea</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Nobly, nobly Cape Saint Vincent to the North-west died away;</div> -<div class="line">Sunset ran, one glorious blood-red, reeking into Cadiz Bay;</div> -<div class="line">Bluish ’mid the burning water, full in face Trafalgar lay;</div> -<div class="line">In the dimmest North-east distance dawn’d Gibraltar grand and gray;</div> -<div class="line">“Here and here did England help me: how can I help England?”—say,</div> -<div class="line">Whoso turns as I, this evening, turn to God to praise and pray,</div> -<div class="line">While Jove’s planet rises yonder, silent over Africa.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Browning.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_221" id="Page_221">221</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="GREEN_SEAS_AND_SAILOR_MEN" id="GREEN_SEAS_AND_SAILOR_MEN"></a>GREEN SEAS AND SAILOR MEN</h2> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3><a name="The_Call_of_the_Sea" id="The_Call_of_the_Sea"></a>1. <em>The Call of the Sea</em></h3> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Ye_Mariners_of_England" id="Ye_Mariners_of_England"></a><span class="smcap">Ye Mariners of England</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ye Mariners of England!</div> -<div class="line indent2">That guard our native seas;</div> -<div class="line">Whose flag has braved a thousand years</div> -<div class="line indent2">The battle and the breeze!</div> -<div class="line">Your glorious standard launch again</div> -<div class="line indent2">To match another foe;</div> -<div class="line">And sweep through the deep,</div> -<div class="line indent2">While the stormy winds do blow!</div> -<div class="line">While the battle rages loud and long,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the stormy winds do blow.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The spirits of your fathers</div> -<div class="line indent2">Shall start from every wave;</div> -<div class="line">For the deck it was their field of fame,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And Ocean was their grave:</div> -<div class="line">Where Blake and mighty Nelson fell</div> -<div class="line indent2">Your manly hearts shall glow,</div> -<div class="line">As ye sweep through the deep,</div> -<div class="line indent2">While the stormy winds do blow!</div> -<div class="line">While the battle rages loud and long,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the stormy winds do blow.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_222" id="Page_222">222</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Britannia needs no bulwarks,</div> -<div class="line indent2">No towers along the steep;</div> -<div class="line">Her march is o’er the mountain-waves,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Her home is on the deep.</div> -<div class="line">With thunders from her native oak</div> -<div class="line indent2">She quells the floods below,</div> -<div class="line">As they roar on the shore,</div> -<div class="line indent2">When the stormy winds do blow!</div> -<div class="line">When the battle rages loud and long,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the stormy winds do blow.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The meteor flag of England</div> -<div class="line indent2">Shall yet terrific burn;</div> -<div class="line">Till danger’s troubled night depart</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the star of peace return.</div> -<div class="line">Then, then, ye ocean-warriors!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Our song and feast shall flow</div> -<div class="line">To the fame of your name,</div> -<div class="line indent2">When the storm has ceased to blow!</div> -<div class="line">When the fiery fight is heard no more,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the storm has ceased to blow.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Thomas Campbell.</p> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Secret_of_the_Sea" id="The_Secret_of_the_Sea"></a><span class="smcap">The Secret of the Sea</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me</div> -<div class="line indent2">As I gaze upon the sea!</div> -<div class="line">All the old romantic legends,</div> -<div class="line indent2">All my dreams come back to me.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_223" id="Page_223">223</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Sails of silk and ropes of sendal<a name="FNanchor_34_34" id="FNanchor_34_34"></a><a href="#Footnote_34_34" class="fnanchor">[34]</a>,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Such as gleam in ancient lore;</div> -<div class="line">And the singing of the sailors,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the answer from the shore!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Most of all, the Spanish ballad</div> -<div class="line indent2">Haunts me oft, and tarries long,</div> -<div class="line">Of the noble Count Arnaldos</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the sailor’s mystic song.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Telling how the Count Arnaldos,</div> -<div class="line indent2">With his hawk upon his hand,</div> -<div class="line">Saw a fair and stately galley,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Steering onward to the land;—</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">How he heard the ancient helmsman</div> -<div class="line indent2">Chant a song so wild and clear,</div> -<div class="line">That the sailing sea-bird slowly</div> -<div class="line indent2">Poised upon the mast to hear,</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Till his soul was full of longing,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And he cried, with impulse strong,—</div> -<div class="line">“Helmsman! for the love of heaven,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Teach me, too, that wondrous song!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Wouldst thou,”—so the helmsman answered,</div> -<div class="line indent2">“Learn the secret of the sea?</div> -<div class="line">Only those who brave its dangers</div> -<div class="line indent2">Comprehend its mystery!”</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_224" id="Page_224">224</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In each sail that skims the horizon,</div> -<div class="line indent2">In each landward-blowing breeze,</div> -<div class="line">I behold that stately galley,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hear those mournful melodies.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Till my soul is full of longing</div> -<div class="line indent2">For the secret of the sea,</div> -<div class="line">And the heart of the great ocean</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sends a thrilling pulse through me.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">H. W. Longfellow.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_34_34" id="Footnote_34_34"></a><a href="#FNanchor_34_34"><span class="label">[34]</span></a> <em>sendal</em>: coarse narrow silken material.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="A_Dutch_Picture" id="A_Dutch_Picture"></a><span class="smcap">A Dutch Picture</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Simon Danz has come home again,</div> -<div class="line indent2">From cruising about with his buccaneers<a name="FNanchor_35_35" id="FNanchor_35_35"></a><a href="#Footnote_35_35" class="fnanchor">[35]</a>;</div> -<div class="line">He has singed the beard of the King of Spain,</div> -<div class="line">And carried away the Dean of Jaen,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And sold him in Algiers.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In his house by the Maese, with its roof of tiles,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And weathercocks flying aloft in air,</div> -<div class="line">There are silver tankards in antique styles,</div> -<div class="line">Plunder of convent and castle, and piles</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of carpets rich and rare.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In his tulip-garden there by the town,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Overlooking the sluggish stream,</div> -<div class="line">With his Moorish cap and dressing-gown,</div> -<div class="line">The old sea-captain, hale and brown,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Walks in a waking dream.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_225" id="Page_225">225</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A smile in his gray mustachio lurks</div> -<div class="line indent2">Whenever he thinks of the King of Spain,</div> -<div class="line">And the listed<a name="FNanchor_36_36" id="FNanchor_36_36"></a><a href="#Footnote_36_36" class="fnanchor">[36]</a> tulips look like Turks,</div> -<div class="line">And the silent gardener as he works</div> -<div class="line indent2">Is changed to the Dean of Jaen<a name="FNanchor_37_37" id="FNanchor_37_37"></a><a href="#Footnote_37_37" class="fnanchor">[37]</a>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The windmills on the outermost</div> -<div class="line indent2">Verge of the landscape in the haze,</div> -<div class="line">To him are towers on the Spanish coast,</div> -<div class="line">With whiskered sentinels at their post,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Though this is the river Maese.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But when the winter rains begin,</div> -<div class="line indent2">He sits and smokes by the blazing brands,</div> -<div class="line">And old seafaring men come in,</div> -<div class="line">Goat-bearded, gray, and with double chin,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And rings upon their hands.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They sit there in the shadow and shine</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of the flickering fire of the winter night;</div> -<div class="line">Figures in colour and design</div> -<div class="line">Like those by Rembrandt of the Rhine,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Half darkness and half light.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And they talk of ventures lost or won,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And their talk is ever and ever the same,</div> -<div class="line">While they drink the red wine of Tarragon,</div> -<div class="line">From the cellars of some Spanish Don,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Or convent set on flame.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Restless at times, with heavy strides</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_226" id="Page_226">226</a></span> -<div class="line indent2">He paces his parlour to and fro;</div> -<div class="line">He is like a ship that at anchor rides,</div> -<div class="line">And swings with the rising and falling tides,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And tugs at her anchor-tow.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Voices mysterious far and near,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sound of the wind and sound of the sea,</div> -<div class="line">Are calling and whispering in his ear,</div> -<div class="line">“Simon Danz! Why stayest thou here?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Come forth and follow me!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">So he thinks he shall take to the sea again</div> -<div class="line indent2">For one more cruise with his buccaneers,</div> -<div class="line">To singe the beard of the King of Spain,</div> -<div class="line">And capture another Dean of Jaen,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And sell him in Algiers.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">H. W. Longfellow.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_35_35" id="Footnote_35_35"></a><a href="#FNanchor_35_35"><span class="label">[35]</span></a> <em>buccaneers</em>: sea rovers, pirates.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_36_36" id="Footnote_36_36"></a><a href="#FNanchor_36_36"><span class="label">[36]</span></a> <em>listed</em>: striped.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_37_37" id="Footnote_37_37"></a><a href="#FNanchor_37_37"><span class="label">[37]</span></a> <em>Jaen</em>: a town in Spain.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Sea_Memories" id="Sea_Memories"></a><span class="smcap">Sea Memories</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Often I think of the beautiful town</div> -<div class="line indent2">That is seated by the sea;</div> -<div class="line">Often in thought go up and down</div> -<div class="line">The pleasant streets of that dear old town,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And my youth comes back to me.</div> -<div class="line indent4">And a verse of a Lapland song</div> -<div class="line indent4">Is haunting my memory still:</div> -<div class="line indent4">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,</div> -<div class="line">And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_227" id="Page_227">227</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I can see the shadowy lines of its trees,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And catch, in sudden gleams,</div> -<div class="line">The sheen of the far-surrounding seas,</div> -<div class="line">And islands that were the Hesperides<a name="FNanchor_38_38" id="FNanchor_38_38"></a><a href="#Footnote_38_38" class="fnanchor">[38]</a></div> -<div class="line indent2">Of all my boyish dreams.</div> -<div class="line indent4">And the burden of that old song,</div> -<div class="line indent4">It murmurs and whispers still:</div> -<div class="line indent4">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,</div> -<div class="line">And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I remember the black wharves and the slips,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the sea-tides tossing free;</div> -<div class="line">And the Spanish sailors with bearded lips,</div> -<div class="line">And the beauty and mystery of the ships,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the magic of the sea.</div> -<div class="line indent4">And the voice of that wayward song</div> -<div class="line indent4">Is singing and saying still:</div> -<div class="line indent4">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,</div> -<div class="line">And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">H. W. Longfellow.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_38_38" id="Footnote_38_38"></a><a href="#FNanchor_38_38"><span class="label">[38]</span></a> <em>Hesperides</em>: the fabulous “Isles of the Blest” in far -western seas.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Sea_Gypsy" id="The_Sea_Gypsy"></a><span class="smcap">The Sea Gypsy</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I am fever’d with the sunset,</div> -<div class="line">I am fretful with the bay,</div> -<div class="line">For the wander-thirst is on me</div> -<div class="line">And my soul is in Cathay.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_228" id="Page_228">228</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There’s a schooner in the offing,</div> -<div class="line">With her topsails shot with fire,</div> -<div class="line">And my heart has gone aboard her</div> -<div class="line">For the Islands of Desire.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I must forth again to-morrow!</div> -<div class="line">With the sunset I must be</div> -<div class="line">Hull down on the trail of rapture</div> -<div class="line">In the wonder of the Sea.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Richard Hovey.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Greenwich_Pensioner" id="The_Greenwich_Pensioner"></a><span class="smcap">The Greenwich Pensioner</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">’Twas in the good ship <em>Rover</em>,</div> -<div class="line indent2">I sailed the world all round,</div> -<div class="line">And for three years and over</div> -<div class="line indent2">I ne’er touched British ground;</div> -<div class="line">At length in England landed,</div> -<div class="line indent2">I left the roaring main,</div> -<div class="line">Found all relations stranded,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And went to sea again,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And went to sea again.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">That time bound straight for Portugal,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Right fore and aft we bore,</div> -<div class="line">But when we made Cape Ortegal,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A gale blew off the shore;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_229" id="Page_229">229</a></span> -<div class="line">She lay, so did it shock her,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A log upon the main,</div> -<div class="line">Till, saved from Davy’s locker,</div> -<div class="line indent4">We put to sea again,</div> -<div class="line indent4">We put to sea again.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Next sailing in a frigate</div> -<div class="line indent2">I got my timber toe.</div> -<div class="line">I never more shall jig it</div> -<div class="line indent2">As once I used to do;</div> -<div class="line">My leg was shot off fairly,</div> -<div class="line indent2">All by a ship of Spain;</div> -<div class="line">But I could swab the galley,</div> -<div class="line indent4">I went to sea again,</div> -<div class="line indent4">I went to sea again.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And still I am enabled</div> -<div class="line indent2">To bring up in the rear,</div> -<div class="line">Although I’m quite disabled</div> -<div class="line indent2">And lie in Greenwich tier.</div> -<div class="line">There’s schooners in the river</div> -<div class="line indent2">A riding to the chain,</div> -<div class="line">But I shall never, ever</div> -<div class="line indent4">Put out to sea again,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Put out to sea again.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right">From <em>A Sailor’s Garland</em>.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_230" id="Page_230">230</a></span> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Press-gang" id="The_Press-gang"></a><span class="smcap">The Press-gang</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Here’s the tender<a name="FNanchor_39_39" id="FNanchor_39_39"></a><a href="#Footnote_39_39" class="fnanchor">[39]</a> coming,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Pressing all the men;</div> -<div class="line indent4">O, dear honey,</div> -<div class="line indent2">What shall we do then?</div> -<div class="line">Here’s the tender coming,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Off at Shields Bar.</div> -<div class="line">Here’s the tender coming,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Full of men of war.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Here’s the tender coming,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Stealing of my dear;</div> -<div class="line indent4">O, dear honey,</div> -<div class="line indent2">They’ll ship you out of here,</div> -<div class="line">They’ll ship you foreign,</div> -<div class="line indent2">For that is what it means.</div> -<div class="line">Here’s the tender coming,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Full of red marines.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right">From <em>A Sailor’s Garland</em>.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_39_39" id="Footnote_39_39"></a><a href="#FNanchor_39_39"><span class="label">[39]</span></a> <em>tender</em>: a boat or other small vessel, that ‘attends’ a -ship with men, stores, etc.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="A_Sea_Dirge" id="A_Sea_Dirge"></a><span class="smcap">A Sea Dirge</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Full fathom five thy father lies:</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of his bones are coral made;</div> -<div class="line">Those are pearls that were his eyes:</div> -<div class="line indent2">Nothing of him that doth fade,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_231" id="Page_231">231</a></span> -<div class="line">But doth suffer a sea-change</div> -<div class="line">Into something rich and strange.</div> -<div class="line">Sea-nymphs hourly ring his knell:</div> -<div class="line">Hark! now I hear them,</div> -<div class="line indent10">Ding, dong, bell.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Shakespeare.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3><a name="Its_Lawless_Joys" id="Its_Lawless_Joys"></a>2. <em>Its Lawless Joys</em></h3> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Old_Buccaneer" id="The_Old_Buccaneer"></a><span class="smcap">The Old Buccaneer</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Oh England is a pleasant place for them that’s rich and high,</div> -<div class="line">But England is a cruel place for such poor folks as I;</div> -<div class="line">And such a port for mariners I ne’er shall see again</div> -<div class="line">As the pleasant Isle of Avès, beside the Spanish main.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There were forty craft in Avès that were both swift and stout,</div> -<div class="line">All furnished well with small arms and cannons round about;</div> -<div class="line">And a thousand men in Avès made laws so fair and free</div> -<div class="line">To choose their valiant captains and obey them loyally.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_232" id="Page_232">232</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thence we sailed against the Spaniard with his hoards of plate and gold,</div> -<div class="line">Which he wrung with cruel tortures from Indian folk of old;</div> -<div class="line">Likewise the merchant captains, with hearts as hard as stone,</div> -<div class="line">Who flog men, and keel-haul them, and starve them to the bone.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O the palms grew high in Avès, and fruits that shone like gold,</div> -<div class="line">And the colibris<a name="FNanchor_40_40" id="FNanchor_40_40"></a><a href="#Footnote_40_40" class="fnanchor">[40]</a> and parrots they were gorgeous to behold;</div> -<div class="line">And the negro maids to Avès from bondage fast did flee,</div> -<div class="line">To welcome gallant sailors, a-sweeping in from sea.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O sweet it was in Avès to hear the landward breeze,</div> -<div class="line">A-swing with good tobacco in a net between the trees,</div> -<div class="line">With a negro lass to fan you, while you listened to the roar</div> -<div class="line">Of the breakers on the reef outside, that never touched the shore.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_233" id="Page_233">233</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But Scripture saith, an ending to all fine things must be;</div> -<div class="line">So the King’s ships sailed on Avès, and quite put down were we.</div> -<div class="line">All day we fought like bulldogs, but they burst the booms at night;</div> -<div class="line">And I fled in a piragua<a name="FNanchor_41_41" id="FNanchor_41_41"></a><a href="#Footnote_41_41" class="fnanchor">[41]</a>, sore wounded, from the fight.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Nine days I floated starving, and a negro lass beside,</div> -<div class="line">Till, for all I tried to cheer her, the poor young thing she died;</div> -<div class="line">But as I lay a-gasping, a Bristol sail came by,</div> -<div class="line">And brought me home to England here, to beg until I die.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And now I’m old and going—I’m sure I can’t tell where;</div> -<div class="line">One comfort is, this world’s so hard, I can’t be worse off there:</div> -<div class="line">If I might but be a sea-dove, I’d fly across the main,</div> -<div class="line">To the pleasant Isle of Avès, to look at it once again.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Charles Kingsley.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_40_40" id="Footnote_40_40"></a><a href="#FNanchor_40_40"><span class="label">[40]</span></a> <em>colibris</em>: humming-birds.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_41_41" id="Footnote_41_41"></a><a href="#FNanchor_41_41"><span class="label">[41]</span></a> <em>piragua</em>: a “dug-out” canoe.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_234" id="Page_234">234</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Salcombe_Seamans_Flaunt_to_the_Proud_Pirate" id="The_Salcombe_Seamans_Flaunt_to_the_Proud_Pirate"></a><span class="smcap">The Salcombe Seaman’s Flaunt to the Proud Pirate</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A lofty ship from Salcombe came,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">She had golden trucks<a name="FNanchor_42_42" id="FNanchor_42_42"></a><a href="#Footnote_42_42" class="fnanchor">[42]</a> that shone like flame,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Masthead, masthead,” the captains hail,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">“Look out and round, d’ye see a sail?”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“There’s a ship that looms like Beachy Head,”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">“Her banner aloft it blows out red,”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Oh, ship ahoy, where do you steer?”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">“Are you man-of-war, or privateer?”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“I am neither one of the two,” said she,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">“I’m a pirate, looking for my fee,”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_235" id="Page_235">235</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“I’m a jolly pirate, out for gold:”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">“I will rummage through your after hold,”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The grumbling guns they flashed and roared,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">Till the pirate’s masts went overboard,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They fired shots till the pirate’s deck,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">Was blood and spars and broken wreck,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“O do not haul the red flag down,”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">“O keep all fast until we drown,”</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They called for cans of wine, and drank,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">They sang their songs until she sank,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Now let us brew good cans of flip,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">And drink a bowl to the Salcombe ship,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_236" id="Page_236">236</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And drink a bowl to the lad of fame,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>Blow high, blow low, and so sailed we;</em></div> -<div class="line">Who put the pirate ship to shame,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>On the bonny coasts of Barbary</em>.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right">From <em>A Sailor’s Garland</em>.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_42_42" id="Footnote_42_42"></a><a href="#FNanchor_42_42"><span class="label">[42]</span></a> <em>trucks</em>: mast-head caps.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Smuggler" id="The_Smuggler"></a><span class="smcap">The Smuggler</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O my true love’s a smuggler and sails upon the sea,</div> -<div class="line">And I would I were a seaman to go along with he;</div> -<div class="line">To go along with he for the satins and the wine,</div> -<div class="line">And run the tubs at Slapton when the stars do shine.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O Hollands is a good drink when the nights are cold,</div> -<div class="line">And Brandy is a good drink for them as grows old.</div> -<div class="line">There is lights in the cliff-top when the boats are home-bound,</div> -<div class="line">And we run the tubs at Slapton when the word goes round.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The King he is a proud man in his grand red coat,</div> -<div class="line">But I do love a smuggler in a little fishing-boat;</div> -<div class="line">For he runs the Mallins lace and he spends his money free,</div> -<div class="line">And I would I were a seaman to go along with he.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right">From <em>A Sailor’s Garland</em>.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_237" id="Page_237">237</a></span> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<h2><a name="ARMS_AND_THE_MAN" id="ARMS_AND_THE_MAN"></a>ARMS AND THE MAN</h2> - -<p><em>The generations pass, each in its turn wondering whether it is to be -the one to see the ending of War and the awakening of the common sense -of nations. But the Poetry of the glory of Battle, the hymning of high -heroisms, the dirges for those who nobly died—these will remain, to -gild its memory, long after the last echo of the last war-drum has -faded out of the world.</em></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Maid" id="The_Maid"></a><span class="smcap">The Maid</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thunder of riotous hoofs over the quaking sod;</div> -<div class="line">Clash of reeking squadrons, steel-capped, iron-shod;</div> -<div class="line">The White Maid and the white horse, and the flapping banner of God.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Black hearts riding for money; red hearts riding for fame;</div> -<div class="line">The Maid who rides for France and the King who rides for shame—</div> -<div class="line">Gentlemen, fools, and a saint riding in Christ’s high name!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_238" id="Page_238">238</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Dust to dust!” it is written. Wind-scattered are lance and bow.</div> -<div class="line">Dust, the Cross of Saint George; dust, the banner of snow.</div> -<div class="line">The bones of the King are crumbled, and rotted the shafts of the foe.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Forgotten, the young knight’s valour; forgotten, the captain’s skill;</div> -<div class="line">Forgotten, the fear and the hate and the mailed hands raised to kill;</div> -<div class="line">Forgotten, the shields that clashed and the arrows that cried so shrill.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Like a story from some old book, that battle of long ago:</div> -<div class="line">Shadows, the poor French King and the might of his English foe;</div> -<div class="line">Shadows, the charging nobles and the archers kneeling a-row—</div> -<div class="line">But a flame in my heart and my eyes, the Maid with her banner of snow!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Theodore Roberts.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_239" id="Page_239">239</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Eve_of_Waterloo" id="The_Eve_of_Waterloo"></a><span class="smcap">The Eve of Waterloo</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">There was a sound of revelry by night,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And Belgium’s capital had gather’d then</div> -<div class="line indent2">Her Beauty and her Chivalry, and bright</div> -<div class="line indent4">The lamps shone o’er fair women and brave men.</div> -<div class="line indent2">A thousand hearts beat happily; and when</div> -<div class="line indent4">Music arose with its voluptuous swell,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Soft eyes look’d love to eyes which spake again,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And all went merry as a marriage-bell;</div> -<div class="line">But hush! hark! a deep sound strikes like a rising knell!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Did ye not hear it?—No; ’twas but the wind,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Or the car rattling o’er the stony street;</div> -<div class="line indent2">On with the dance! let joy be unconfined;</div> -<div class="line indent4">No sleep till morn, when Youth and Pleasure meet</div> -<div class="line indent2">To chase the glowing hours with flying feet.</div> -<div class="line indent4">But hark!—that heavy sound breaks in once more,</div> -<div class="line indent2">As if the clouds its echo would repeat;</div> -<div class="line indent4">And nearer, clearer, deadlier than before!</div> -<div class="line">Arm! Arm! it is—it is—the cannon’s opening roar!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_240" id="Page_240">240</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Within a window’d niche of that high hall</div> -<div class="line indent4">Sate Brunswick’s fated chieftain; he did hear</div> -<div class="line indent2">That sound, the first amidst the festival,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And caught its tone with Death’s prophetic ear;</div> -<div class="line indent2">And when they smiled because he deem’d it near,</div> -<div class="line indent4">His heart more truly knew that peal too well</div> -<div class="line indent2">Which stretch’d his father on a bloody bier,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And rous’d the vengeance blood alone could quell:</div> -<div class="line">He rush’d into the field, and, foremost fighting, fell.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Ah! then and there was hurrying to and fro,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And gathering tears, and tremblings of distress,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And cheeks all pale, which but an hour ago</div> -<div class="line indent4">Blush’d at the praise of their own loveliness;</div> -<div class="line indent2">And there were sudden partings, such as press</div> -<div class="line indent4">The life from out young hearts, and choking sighs</div> -<div class="line indent2">Which ne’er might be repeated: who would guess</div> -<div class="line indent4">If ever more should meet those mutual eyes,</div> -<div class="line">Since upon night so sweet such awful morn could rise!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_241" id="Page_241">241</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">And there was mounting in hot haste: the steed,</div> -<div class="line indent4">The mustering squadron, and the clattering car,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Went pouring forward with impetuous speed,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And swiftly forming in the ranks of war;</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the deep thunder peal on peal afar;</div> -<div class="line indent4">And near, the beat of the alarming drum</div> -<div class="line indent2">Rous’d up the soldier ere the morning star;</div> -<div class="line indent4">While throng’d the citizens with terror dumb,</div> -<div class="line">Or whispering with white lips—“The foe! they come! they come!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">And wild and high the “Camerons’ gathering” rose,</div> -<div class="line indent4">The war-note of Lochiel, which Albyn’s hills</div> -<div class="line indent2">Have heard, and heard, too, have her Saxon foes:</div> -<div class="line indent4">How in the noon of night that pibroch thrills</div> -<div class="line indent2">Savage and shrill! But with the breath which fills</div> -<div class="line indent4">Their mountain-pipe, so fill the mountaineers</div> -<div class="line indent2">With the fierce native daring which instils</div> -<div class="line indent4">The stirring memory of a thousand years,</div> -<div class="line">And Evan’s, Donald’s fame rings in each clansman’s ears!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_242" id="Page_242">242</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">And Ardennes waves above them her green leaves,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Dewy with Nature’s tear-drops, as they pass,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Grieving, if aught inanimate e’er grieves,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Over the unreturning brave,—alas!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Ere evening to be trodden like the grass</div> -<div class="line indent4">Which now beneath them, but above shall grow</div> -<div class="line indent2">In its next verdure, when this fiery mass</div> -<div class="line indent4">Of living valour, rolling on the foe,</div> -<div class="line">And burning with high hope, shall moulder cold and low.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Last noon beheld them full of lusty life,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Last eve in Beauty’s circle proudly gay,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The midnight brought the signal-sound of strife,</div> -<div class="line indent4">The morn the marshalling in arms,—the day</div> -<div class="line indent2">Battle’s magnificently stern array!</div> -<div class="line indent4">The thunder-clouds close o’er it, which when rent</div> -<div class="line indent2">The earth is cover’d thick with other clay,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Which her own clay shall cover, heap’d and pent,</div> -<div class="line">Rider and horse,—friend, foe,—in one red burial blent!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Lord Byron.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_243" id="Page_243">243</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Glory_that_was_Greece" id="The_Glory_that_was_Greece"></a><span class="smcap">The Glory that was Greece</span></h3> - -<p><em>I include this among the War Poems, because it is a call to a -conquered nation to rise in arms against their oppressors—a call that -was in due course answered.</em></p> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where burning Sappho loved and sung,</div> -<div class="line">Where grew the arts of war and peace,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!</div> -<div class="line">Eternal summer gilds them yet,</div> -<div class="line">But all except their sun is set.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The Scian and the Teian<a name="FNanchor_43_43" id="FNanchor_43_43"></a><a href="#Footnote_43_43" class="fnanchor">[43]</a> muse,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The hero’s harp, the lover’s lute,</div> -<div class="line">Have found the fame your shores refuse:</div> -<div class="line indent2">Their place of birth alone is mute</div> -<div class="line">To sounds which echo further west</div> -<div class="line">Than your sires’ “Islands of the Blest.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The mountains look on Marathon,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And Marathon looks on the sea;</div> -<div class="line">And, musing there an hour alone,</div> -<div class="line indent2">I dreamed that Greece might still be free;</div> -<div class="line">For, standing on the Persian’s grave,</div> -<div class="line">I could not deem myself a slave.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_244" id="Page_244">244</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A king sate on the rocky brow</div> -<div class="line indent2">Which looks o’er sea-born Salamis;</div> -<div class="line">And ships by thousands lay below,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And men in nations;—all were his!</div> -<div class="line">He counted them at break of day,</div> -<div class="line">And when the sun set, where were they?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And where are they? and where art thou,</div> -<div class="line indent2">My country? On thy voiceless shore</div> -<div class="line">The heroic lay is tuneless now,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The heroic bosom beats no more!</div> -<div class="line">And must thy lyre, so long divine,</div> -<div class="line">Degenerate into hands like mine?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">’Tis something in the dearth of fame,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Though linked among the fettered race,</div> -<div class="line">To feel at least a patriot’s shame,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Even as I sing, suffuse my face;</div> -<div class="line">For what is left the poet here?</div> -<div class="line">For Greeks a blush—for Greece a tear!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Must <em>we</em> but weep o’er days more blest?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Must <em>we</em> but blush? Our fathers bled.</div> -<div class="line">Earth! render back from out thy breast</div> -<div class="line indent2">A remnant of our Spartan dead!</div> -<div class="line">Of the three hundred grant but three,</div> -<div class="line">To make a new Thermopylæ!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_245" id="Page_245">245</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">What, silent still? and silent all?</div> -<div class="line indent2">Ah! no: the voices of the dead</div> -<div class="line">Sound like a distant torrent’s fall,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And answer, “Let one living head,</div> -<div class="line">But one arise,—we come, we come!”</div> -<div class="line">’Tis but the living who are dumb.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In vain—in vain; strike other chords;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Fill high the cup with Samian wine!</div> -<div class="line">Leave battles to the Turkish hordes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And shed the blood of Scio’s vine!</div> -<div class="line">Hark! rising to the ignoble call,</div> -<div class="line">How answers each bold Bacchanal!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">You have the Pyrrhic dance as yet;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where is the Pyrrhic phalanx gone?</div> -<div class="line">Of two such lessons, why forget</div> -<div class="line indent2">The nobler and the manlier one?</div> -<div class="line">You have the letters Cadmus gave;</div> -<div class="line">Think ye he meant them for a slave?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!</div> -<div class="line indent2">We will not think of themes like these!</div> -<div class="line">It made Anacreon’s song divine:</div> -<div class="line indent2">He served—but served Polycrates:</div> -<div class="line">A tyrant; but our masters then</div> -<div class="line">Were still, at least, our countrymen.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_246" id="Page_246">246</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The tyrant of the Chersonese</div> -<div class="line indent2">Was freedom’s best and bravest friend;</div> -<div class="line"><em>That</em> tyrant was Miltiades!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Oh that the present hour would lend</div> -<div class="line">Another despot of the kind!</div> -<div class="line">Such chains as his were sure to bind.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!</div> -<div class="line indent2">On Suli’s rock and Parga’s shore</div> -<div class="line">Exists the remnant of a line</div> -<div class="line indent2">Such as the Doric mothers bore;</div> -<div class="line">And there, perhaps, some seed is sown</div> -<div class="line">The Heracleidan blood might own.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Trust not for freedom to the Franks—</div> -<div class="line indent2">They have a king who buys and sells;</div> -<div class="line">In native swords and native ranks</div> -<div class="line indent2">The only hope of courage dwells:</div> -<div class="line">But Turkish force and Latin fraud</div> -<div class="line">Would break your shield, however broad.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Fill high the bowl with Samian wine!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Our virgins dance beneath the shade—</div> -<div class="line">I see their glorious black eyes shine;</div> -<div class="line indent2">But, gazing on each glowing maid,</div> -<div class="line">My own the burning tear-drop laves,</div> -<div class="line">To think such breasts must suckle slaves.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_247" id="Page_247">247</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Place me on Sunium’s marbled steep,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where nothing save the waves and I</div> -<div class="line">May hear our mutual murmurs sweep;</div> -<div class="line indent2">There, swan-like, let me sing and die:</div> -<div class="line">A land of slaves shall ne’er be mine—</div> -<div class="line">Dash down yon cup of Samian wine!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Lord Byron.</p> - - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_43_43" id="Footnote_43_43"></a><a href="#FNanchor_43_43"><span class="label">[43]</span></a> <em>Scian</em> and <em>Teian</em>: i.e. Homer and Anacreon.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Battle_Hymn_of_the_American_Republic" id="Battle_Hymn_of_the_American_Republic"></a><span class="smcap">Battle Hymn of the American Republic</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord:</div> -<div class="line">He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;</div> -<div class="line">He hath loosed the fatal lightning of his terrible swift sword:</div> -<div class="line indent10">His truth is marching on.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I have seen him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;</div> -<div class="line">They have builded him an altar in the evening dews and damps;</div> -<div class="line">I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps:</div> -<div class="line indent10">His day is marching on.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_248" id="Page_248">248</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;</div> -<div class="line">He is sifting out the hearts of men before his Judgment Seat;</div> -<div class="line">O, be swift, my soul to answer Him, be jubilant my feet!</div> -<div class="line indent10">Our God is marching on.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born, across the sea,</div> -<div class="line">With a glory in his bosom that transfigures you and me:</div> -<div class="line">As he died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,</div> -<div class="line indent10">While God is marching on.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Julia Ward Howe.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="To_Lucasta_on_going_to_the_Wars" id="To_Lucasta_on_going_to_the_Wars"></a><span class="smcap">To Lucasta, on going to the Wars</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind,</div> -<div class="line indent2">That from the nunnery</div> -<div class="line">Of thy chaste breast and quiet mind</div> -<div class="line indent2">To war and arms I fly.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">True, a new mistress now I chase,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The first foe in the field;</div> -<div class="line">And with a stronger faith embrace</div> -<div class="line indent2">A sword, a horse, a shield.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_249" id="Page_249">249</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Yet this inconstancy is such</div> -<div class="line indent2">As you too shall adore;</div> -<div class="line">I could not love thee, Dear, so much,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Loved I not Honour more.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Richard Lovelace.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Black_Prince" id="The_Black_Prince"></a><span class="smcap">The Black Prince</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O for the voice of that wild horn,</div> -<div class="line">On Fontarabian echoes borne,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The dying hero’s call,</div> -<div class="line">That told imperial Charlemagne</div> -<div class="line">How Paynim sons of swarthy Spain</div> -<div class="line indent2">Had wrought his champion’s fall.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Sad over earth and ocean sounding,</div> -<div class="line">And England’s distant cliffs astounding,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Such are the notes should say</div> -<div class="line">How Britain’s hope, and France’s fear,</div> -<div class="line">Victor of Cressy and Poitier,</div> -<div class="line indent2">In Bordeaux dying lay.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Raise my faint head, my squires,” he said,</div> -<div class="line">“And let the casement be displayed,</div> -<div class="line indent2">That I may see once more</div> -<div class="line">The splendour of the setting sun</div> -<div class="line">Gleam on thy mirrored wave, Garonne,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And Blay’s empurpled shore.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_250" id="Page_250">250</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Like me, he sinks to Glory’s sleep,</div> -<div class="line">His fall the dews of evening steep,</div> -<div class="line indent2">As if in sorrow shed.</div> -<div class="line">So soft shall fall the trickling tear,</div> -<div class="line">When England’s maids and matrons hear</div> -<div class="line indent2">Of their Black Edward dead.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“And though my sun of glory set,</div> -<div class="line">Nor France nor England shall forget</div> -<div class="line indent2">The terror of my name;</div> -<div class="line">And oft shall Britain’s heroes rise,</div> -<div class="line">New planets in these southern skies,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Through clouds of blood and flame.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Sir Walter Scott.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Burial_of_Sir_John_Moore" id="The_Burial_of_Sir_John_Moore"></a><span class="smcap">The Burial of Sir John Moore</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note,</div> -<div class="line indent2">As his corse to the rampart we hurried;</div> -<div class="line">Not a soldier discharged his farewell shot</div> -<div class="line indent2">O’er the grave where our hero we buried.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">We buried him darkly at dead of night,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The sods with our bayonets turning,</div> -<div class="line">By the struggling moonbeam’s misty light</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the lantern dimly burning.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_251" id="Page_251">251</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">No useless coffin enclosed his breast,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Not in sheet or in shroud we wound him;</div> -<div class="line">But he lay like a warrior taking his rest</div> -<div class="line indent2">With his martial cloak around him.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Few and short were the prayers we said,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And we spoke not a word of sorrow;</div> -<div class="line">But we steadfastly gazed on the face of the dead,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And we bitterly thought of the morrow.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">We thought, as we hollow’d his narrow bed</div> -<div class="line indent2">And smooth’d down his lonely pillow,</div> -<div class="line">That the foe and the stranger would tread o’er his head,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And we far away on the billow!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Lightly they’ll talk of the spirit that’s gone,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And o’er his cold ashes upbraid him—</div> -<div class="line">But little he’ll reck, if they let him sleep on</div> -<div class="line indent2">In the grave where a Briton has laid him.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But half of our heavy task was done</div> -<div class="line indent2">When the clock struck the hour for retiring;</div> -<div class="line">And we heard the distant and random gun</div> -<div class="line indent2">That the foe was sullenly firing.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_252" id="Page_252">252</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Slowly and sadly we laid him down,</div> -<div class="line indent2">From the field of his fame fresh and gory;</div> -<div class="line">We carved not a line, and we raised not a stone,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But we left him alone with his glory.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Charles Wolfe.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="How_Sleep_the_Brave" id="How_Sleep_the_Brave"></a><span class="smcap">How Sleep the Brave</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">How sleep the brave, who sink to rest</div> -<div class="line">By all their country’s wishes blest!</div> -<div class="line">When Spring, with dewy fingers cold,</div> -<div class="line">Returns to deck their hallowed mould,</div> -<div class="line">She there shall dress a sweeter sod</div> -<div class="line">Than Fancy’s feet have ever trod.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">By fairy hands their knell is rung;</div> -<div class="line">By forms unseen their dirge is sung;</div> -<div class="line">There Honour comes, a pilgrim grey,</div> -<div class="line">To bless the turf that wraps their clay;</div> -<div class="line">And Freedom shall awhile repair</div> -<div class="line">To dwell, a weeping hermit, there!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Collins.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_253" id="Page_253">253</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Soldier_Rest" id="Soldier_Rest"></a><span class="smcap">Soldier, Rest!</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking!</div> -<div class="line">Dream of battled fields no more,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Days of danger, nights of waking.</div> -<div class="line">In our isle’s enchanted hall,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Hands unseen thy couch are strewing,</div> -<div class="line">Fairy strains of music fall,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Every sense in slumber dewing.</div> -<div class="line">Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er,</div> -<div class="line">Dream of fighting fields no more;</div> -<div class="line">Sleep the sleep that knows not breaking,</div> -<div class="line">Morn of toil, nor night of waking.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">No rude sound shall reach thine ear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Armour’s clang, or war-steed champing</div> -<div class="line">Trump nor pibroch summon here</div> -<div class="line indent2">Mustering clan, or squadron tramping.</div> -<div class="line">Yet the lark’s shrill fife may come</div> -<div class="line indent2">At the daybreak from the fallow,</div> -<div class="line">And the bittern sound his drum,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Booming from the sedgy shallow.</div> -<div class="line">Ruder sounds shall none be near,</div> -<div class="line">Guards nor warders challenge here,</div> -<div class="line">Here’s no war-steed’s neigh and champing,</div> -<div class="line">Shouting clans, or squadrons stamping.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_254" id="Page_254">254</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done;</div> -<div class="line indent2">While our slumbrous spells assail ye,</div> -<div class="line">Dream not, with the rising sun,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Bugles here shall sound reveillé.</div> -<div class="line">Sleep! the deer is in his den;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sleep! thy hounds are by thee lying;</div> -<div class="line">Sleep! nor dream in yonder glen,</div> -<div class="line indent2">How thy gallant steed lay dying.</div> -<div class="line">Huntsman, rest! thy chase is done,</div> -<div class="line">Think not of the rising sun,</div> -<div class="line">For at dawning to assail ye,</div> -<div class="line">Here no bugles sound reveillé.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Sir Walter Scott.</p> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h2><a name="THE_OTHER_SIDE_OF_IT" id="THE_OTHER_SIDE_OF_IT"></a>THE OTHER SIDE OF IT</h2> -</div> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Patriot" id="The_Patriot"></a>1. <span class="smcap">The Patriot</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">It was roses, roses, all the way,</div> -<div class="line indent2">With myrtle mixed in my path like mad:</div> -<div class="line">The house-roofs seemed to heave and sway,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The church-spires flamed, such flags they had,</div> -<div class="line">A year ago on this very day.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_255" id="Page_255">255</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The air broke into a mist with bells,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The old walls rocked with the crowd and cries.</div> -<div class="line">Had I said, “Good folk, mere noise repels—</div> -<div class="line indent2">But give me your sun from yonder skies!”</div> -<div class="line">They had answered, “And afterward, what else?”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Alack, it was I who leaped at the sun</div> -<div class="line indent2">To give it my loving friends to keep!</div> -<div class="line">Nought man could do, have I left undone:</div> -<div class="line indent2">And you see my harvest, what I reap</div> -<div class="line">This very day, now a year is run.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There’s nobody on the house-tops now—</div> -<div class="line indent2">Just a palsied few at the windows set;</div> -<div class="line">For the best of the sight is, all allow,</div> -<div class="line indent2">At the Shambles’ Gate—or, better yet,</div> -<div class="line">By the very scaffold’s foot, I trow.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I go in the rain, and, more than needs,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A rope cuts both my wrists behind;</div> -<div class="line">And I think, by the feel, my forehead bleeds,</div> -<div class="line indent2">For they fling, whoever has a mind,</div> -<div class="line">Stones at me for my year’s misdeeds.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_256" id="Page_256">256</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thus I entered, and thus I go!</div> -<div class="line indent2">In triumphs, people have dropped down dead,</div> -<div class="line">“Paid by the world, what dost thou owe</div> -<div class="line indent2">Me?”—God might question; now instead,</div> -<div class="line">’Tis God shall repay: I am safer so.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Browning.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="For_those_who_fail" id="For_those_who_fail"></a>2. <span class="smcap">For those who fail</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“All honour to him who shall win the prize,”</div> -<div class="line">The world has cried for a thousand years;</div> -<div class="line">But to him who tries and who fails and dies,</div> -<div class="line">I give great honour and glory and tears.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O great is the hero who wins a name,</div> -<div class="line">But greater many and many a time</div> -<div class="line">Some pale-faced fellow who dies in shame,</div> -<div class="line">And lets God finish the thought sublime.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And great is the man with a sword undrawn,</div> -<div class="line">And good is the man who refrains from wine;</div> -<div class="line">But the man who fails and yet fights on,</div> -<div class="line">Lo he is the twin-born brother of mine!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Joaquin Miller.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_257" id="Page_257">257</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Keeping_On" id="Keeping_On"></a>3. <span class="smcap">Keeping On</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Say not the struggle nought availeth,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The labour and the wounds are vain,</div> -<div class="line">The enemy faints not, nor faileth,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And as things have been they remain.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">If hopes were dupes, fears may be liars;</div> -<div class="line indent2">It may be, in yon smoke concealed,</div> -<div class="line">Your comrades chase e’en now the fliers,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And, but for you, possess the field.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">For while the tired waves, vainly breaking,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Seem here no painful inch to gain,</div> -<div class="line">Far back, through creeks and inlets making,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Comes silent, flooding in, the main.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And not by eastern windows only,</div> -<div class="line indent2">When daylight comes, comes in the light;</div> -<div class="line">In front the sun climbs slow, how slowly!</div> -<div class="line indent2">But westward, look, the land is bright!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">A. H. Clough.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_258" id="Page_258">258</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="STORY-POEMS" id="STORY-POEMS"></a>STORY-POEMS</h2> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Lady_of_Shalott" id="The_Lady_of_Shalott"></a><span class="smcap">The Lady of Shalott</span></h3> -</div> - -<p class="center p120">I.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">On either side the river lie</div> -<div class="line">Long fields of barley and of rye,</div> -<div class="line">That clothe the wold and meet the sky;</div> -<div class="line">And through the field the road runs by</div> -<div class="line indent2">To many-towered Camelot;</div> -<div class="line">And up and down the people go,</div> -<div class="line">Gazing where the lilies blow</div> -<div class="line">Round an island there below,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The island of Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Willows whiten, aspens quiver,</div> -<div class="line">Little breezes dusk and shiver</div> -<div class="line">Through the wave that runs for ever</div> -<div class="line">By the island in the river</div> -<div class="line indent2">Flowing down to Camelot.</div> -<div class="line">Four gray walls, and four gray towers,</div> -<div class="line">Overlook a space of flowers,</div> -<div class="line">And the silent isle embowers</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_259" id="Page_259">259</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">By the margin, willow-veil’d,</div> -<div class="line">Slide the heavy barges trail’d</div> -<div class="line">By slow horses; and unhail’d</div> -<div class="line">The shallop flitteth silken-sail’d</div> -<div class="line indent2">Skimming down to Camelot:</div> -<div class="line">But who has seen her wave her hand?</div> -<div class="line">Or at the casement seen her stand?</div> -<div class="line">Or is she known in all the land,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Only reapers, reaping early</div> -<div class="line">In among the bearded barley,</div> -<div class="line">Hear a song that echoes cheerly</div> -<div class="line">From the river winding clearly,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Down to towered Camelot:</div> -<div class="line">And by moon the reaper weary,</div> -<div class="line">Piling sheaves in upland airy,</div> -<div class="line">Listening, whispers, “’Tis the fairy</div> -<div class="line indent2">Lady of Shalott.”</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="center p120">II.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There she weaves by night and day</div> -<div class="line">A magic web with colours gay.</div> -<div class="line">She has heard a whisper say,</div> -<div class="line">A curse is on her if she stay</div> -<div class="line indent2">To look down to Camelot.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_260" id="Page_260">260</a></span> -<div class="line">She knows not what the curse may be,</div> -<div class="line">And so she weaveth steadily,</div> -<div class="line">And little other care hath she,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And moving thro’ a mirror clear</div> -<div class="line">That hangs before her all the year,</div> -<div class="line">Shadows of the world appear.</div> -<div class="line">There she sees the highway near</div> -<div class="line indent2">Winding down to Camelot:</div> -<div class="line">There the river eddy whirls,</div> -<div class="line">And there the surly village-churls,</div> -<div class="line">And the red cloaks of market girls,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Pass onward from Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,</div> -<div class="line">An abbot on an ambling pad,</div> -<div class="line">Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,</div> -<div class="line">Or long-hair’d page in crimson clad,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Goes by to tower’d Camelot:</div> -<div class="line">And sometimes through the mirror blue</div> -<div class="line">The knights come riding two and two:</div> -<div class="line">She hath no loyal knight and true,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But in her web she still delights</div> -<div class="line">To weave the mirror’s magic sights,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_261" id="Page_261">261</a></span> -<div class="line">For often through the silent nights</div> -<div class="line">A funeral, with plumes and lights</div> -<div class="line indent2">And music, went to Camelot:</div> -<div class="line">Or, when the moon was overhead,</div> -<div class="line">Came two young lovers lately wed;</div> -<div class="line">“I am half sick of shadows,” said</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="center p120">III.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,</div> -<div class="line">He rode between the barley-sheaves,</div> -<div class="line">The sun came dazzling thro’ the leaves,</div> -<div class="line">And flamed upon the brazen greaves<a name="FNanchor_44_44" id="FNanchor_44_44"></a><a href="#Footnote_44_44" class="fnanchor">[44]</a></div> -<div class="line indent2">Of bold Sir Lancelot.</div> -<div class="line">A red-cross knight for ever kneel’d</div> -<div class="line">To a lady in his shield,</div> -<div class="line">That sparkled on the yellow field</div> -<div class="line indent2">Beside remote Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The gemmy bridle glitter’d free,</div> -<div class="line">Like to some branch of stars we see</div> -<div class="line">Hung in the golden Galaxy<a name="FNanchor_45_45" id="FNanchor_45_45"></a><a href="#Footnote_45_45" class="fnanchor">[45]</a>.</div> -<div class="line">The bridle bells rang merrily</div> -<div class="line indent2">As he rode down to Camelot:</div> -<div class="line">And from his blazon’d baldric<a name="FNanchor_46_46" id="FNanchor_46_46"></a><a href="#Footnote_46_46" class="fnanchor">[46]</a> slung</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_262" id="Page_262">262</a></span> -<div class="line">A mighty silver bugle hung,</div> -<div class="line">And as he rode his armour rung,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Beside remote Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">All in the blue unclouded weather</div> -<div class="line">Thick-jewell’d shone the saddle-leather,</div> -<div class="line">The helmet and the helmet-feather</div> -<div class="line">Burn’d like one burning flame together,</div> -<div class="line indent2">As he rode down to Camelot.</div> -<div class="line">As often thro’ the purple night,</div> -<div class="line">Below the starry clusters bright,</div> -<div class="line">Some bearded meteor, trailing light,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Moves over still Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">His broad clear brow in sunlight glow’d;</div> -<div class="line">On burnish’d hooves his war-horse trode;</div> -<div class="line">From underneath his helmet flow’d</div> -<div class="line">His coal-black curls as on he rode,</div> -<div class="line indent2">As he rode down to Camelot.</div> -<div class="line">From the bank and from the river</div> -<div class="line">He flash’d into the crystal mirror,</div> -<div class="line">“Tirra lirra,” by the river</div> -<div class="line indent2">Sang Sir Lancelot.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_263" id="Page_263">263</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">She left the web, she left the loom,</div> -<div class="line">She made three paces thro’ the room,</div> -<div class="line">She saw the water-lily bloom,</div> -<div class="line">She saw the helmet and the plume,</div> -<div class="line indent2">She look’d down to Camelot.</div> -<div class="line">Out flew the web and floated wide;</div> -<div class="line">The mirror crack’d from side to side;</div> -<div class="line">“The curse is come upon me,” cried</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott.</div> -</div></div></div> - - -<p class="center p120">IV.</p> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In the stormy east-wind straining,</div> -<div class="line">The pale yellow woods were waning,</div> -<div class="line">The broad stream in his banks complaining,</div> -<div class="line">Heavily the low sky raining</div> -<div class="line indent2">Over tower’d Camelot;</div> -<div class="line">Down she came and found a boat</div> -<div class="line">Beneath a willow left afloat,</div> -<div class="line">And round about the prow she wrote</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>The Lady of Shalott</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And down the river’s dim expanse—</div> -<div class="line">Like some bold seer in a trance,</div> -<div class="line">Seeing all his own mischance—</div> -<div class="line">With a glassy countenance</div> -<div class="line indent2">Did she look to Camelot.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_264" id="Page_264">264</a></span> -<div class="line">And at the closing of the day</div> -<div class="line">She loosed the chain and down she lay;</div> -<div class="line">The broad stream bore her far away,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Lying, robed in snowy white</div> -<div class="line">That loosely flew to left and right—</div> -<div class="line">The leaves upon her falling light—</div> -<div class="line">Thro’ the noises of the night</div> -<div class="line indent2">She floated down to Camelot:</div> -<div class="line">And as the boat-head wound along</div> -<div class="line">The willowy hills and fields among,</div> -<div class="line">They heard her singing her last song,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Heard a carol, mournful, holy,</div> -<div class="line">Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,</div> -<div class="line">Till her blood was frozen slowly,</div> -<div class="line">And her eyes were darken’d wholly,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Turn’d to tower’d Camelot.</div> -<div class="line">For ere she reached upon the tide</div> -<div class="line">The first house by the water-side,</div> -<div class="line">Singing in her song she died,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Under tower and balcony,</div> -<div class="line">By garden-wall and gallery,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_265" id="Page_265">265</a></span> -<div class="line">A gleaming shape she floated by,</div> -<div class="line">Dead-pale between the houses high,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Silent into Camelot.</div> -<div class="line">Out upon the wharfs they came,</div> -<div class="line">Knight and burgher<a name="FNanchor_47_47" id="FNanchor_47_47"></a><a href="#Footnote_47_47" class="fnanchor">[47]</a>, lord and dame,</div> -<div class="line">And round the prow they read her name,</div> -<div class="line indent2"><em>The Lady of Shalott</em>.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Who is this? and what is here?</div> -<div class="line">And in the lighted palace near</div> -<div class="line">Died the sound of royal cheer;</div> -<div class="line">And they cross’d themselves for fear</div> -<div class="line indent2">All the knights at Camelot:</div> -<div class="line">But Lancelot mused a little space;</div> -<div class="line">He said, “She has a lovely face;</div> -<div class="line">God in his mercy lend her grace,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Lady of Shalott.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Alfred, Lord Tennyson.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_44_44" id="Footnote_44_44"></a><a href="#FNanchor_44_44"><span class="label">[44]</span></a> <em>greaves</em>: leg-armour below the knee.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_45_45" id="Footnote_45_45"></a><a href="#FNanchor_45_45"><span class="label">[45]</span></a> <em>galaxy</em>: the “Milky Way.”</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_46_46" id="Footnote_46_46"></a><a href="#FNanchor_46_46"><span class="label">[46]</span></a> <em>blazon’d baldric</em>: a broad shoulder-belt painted -heraldically.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_47_47" id="Footnote_47_47"></a><a href="#FNanchor_47_47"><span class="label">[47]</span></a> <em>burgher</em>: citizen.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Forsaken_Merman" id="The_Forsaken_Merman"></a><span class="smcap">The Forsaken Merman</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Come, dear children, let us away;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Down and away below.</div> -<div class="line">Now my brothers call from the bay;</div> -<div class="line">Now the great winds shoreward blow;</div> -<div class="line">Now the salt tides seaward flow;</div> -<div class="line">Now the wild white horses play,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_266" id="Page_266">266</a></span> -<div class="line">Champ and chafe and toss in the spray.</div> -<div class="line">Children dear, let us away.</div> -<div class="line indent2">This way, this way!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Call her once before you go—</div> -<div class="line indent2">Call once yet!</div> -<div class="line">In a voice that she will know:</div> -<div class="line indent2">“Margaret! Margaret!”</div> -<div class="line">Children’s voices should be dear</div> -<div class="line">(Call once more) to a mother’s ear;</div> -<div class="line">Children’s voices, wild with pain—</div> -<div class="line">Surely she will come again!</div> -<div class="line">Call her once and come away.</div> -<div class="line indent2">This way, this way!</div> -<div class="line">“Mother dear, we cannot stay!”</div> -<div class="line">The wild white horses foam and fret.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Margaret! Margaret!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Come, dear children, come away down.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Call no more.</div> -<div class="line">One last look at the white-wall’d town,</div> -<div class="line">And the little grey church on the windy shore.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Then come down.</div> -<div class="line">She will not come though you call all day.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Come away, come away!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_267" id="Page_267">267</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Children dear, was it yesterday</div> -<div class="line">We heard the sweet bells over the bay?</div> -<div class="line">In the caverns where we lay,</div> -<div class="line">Through the surf and through the swell,</div> -<div class="line">The far-off sound of a silver bell?</div> -<div class="line">Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,</div> -<div class="line">Where the winds are all asleep;</div> -<div class="line">Where the spent lights quiver and gleam;</div> -<div class="line">Where the salt weed sways in the stream;</div> -<div class="line">Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round,</div> -<div class="line">Feed in the ooze of their pasture-ground;</div> -<div class="line">Where the sea-snakes coil and twine,</div> -<div class="line">Dry their mail and bask in the brine;</div> -<div class="line">Where great whales come sailing by,</div> -<div class="line">Sail and sail, with unshut eye,</div> -<div class="line">Round the world for ever and aye?</div> -<div class="line">When did music come this way?</div> -<div class="line">Children dear, was it yesterday?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Children dear, was it yesterday</div> -<div class="line">(Call yet once) that she went away?</div> -<div class="line">Once she sate with you and me,</div> -<div class="line">On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea,</div> -<div class="line">And the youngest sate on her knee.</div> -<div class="line">She combed its bright hair, and she tended it well,</div> -<div class="line">When down swung the sound of a far-off bell.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_268" id="Page_268">268</a></span> -<div class="line">She sigh’d, she look’d up through the clear green sea;</div> -<div class="line">She said: “I must go, for my kinsfolk pray</div> -<div class="line">In the little grey church on the shore to-day,</div> -<div class="line">’Twill be Easter-time in the world—ah me!</div> -<div class="line">And I lose my poor soul, Merman, here with thee.”</div> -<div class="line">I said, “Go up, dear heart, through the waves;</div> -<div class="line">Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves.”</div> -<div class="line">She smiled, she went up through the surf in the bay.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Children dear, was it yesterday?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">Children dear, were we long alone?</div> -<div class="line">“The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.</div> -<div class="line">Long prayers,” I said, “in the world they say.</div> -<div class="line">Come!” I said, and we rose through the surf in the bay.</div> -<div class="line">We went up the beach, by the sandy down</div> -<div class="line">Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-walled town.</div> -<div class="line">Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still,</div> -<div class="line">To the little grey church on the windy hill.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_269" id="Page_269">269</a></span> -<div class="line">From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers,</div> -<div class="line">But we stood without in the cold blowing airs.</div> -<div class="line">We climb’d on the graves, on the stones worn with rains,</div> -<div class="line">And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes.</div> -<div class="line indent2">She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear:</div> -<div class="line indent2">“Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Dear heart,” I said, “we are long alone.</div> -<div class="line indent2">The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.”</div> -<div class="line">But, ah! she gave me never a look,</div> -<div class="line">For her eyes were sealed to the holy book.</div> -<div class="line">Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Come away, children, call no more.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Come away, come down, call no more.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Down, down, down,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Down to the depths of the sea!</div> -<div class="line">She sits at her wheel in the humming town,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Singing most joyfully.</div> -<div class="line">Hark what she sings: “O joy, O joy,</div> -<div class="line">For the humming street, and the child with its toy!</div> -<div class="line">For the priest, and the bell, and the holy well;</div> -<div class="line indent2">For the wheel where I spun,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the blessèd light of the sun!”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_270" id="Page_270">270</a></span> -<div class="line">And so she sings her fill.</div> -<div class="line">Singing most joyfully,</div> -<div class="line">Till the spindle drops from her hand,</div> -<div class="line">And the whizzing wheel stands still.</div> -<div class="line">She steals to the window and looks at the sand,</div> -<div class="line">And over the sand at the sea;</div> -<div class="line">And her eyes are set in a stare;</div> -<div class="line">And anon there breaks a sigh,</div> -<div class="line">And anon there drops a tear,</div> -<div class="line">From a sorrow-clouded eye,</div> -<div class="line">And a heart sorrow-laden,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A long, long sigh</div> -<div class="line">For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden</div> -<div class="line">And the gleam of her golden hair.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Come away, away, children!</div> -<div class="line">Come children, come down!</div> -<div class="line">The hoarse wind blows coldly;</div> -<div class="line">Lights shine in the town.</div> -<div class="line">She will start from her slumber</div> -<div class="line">When gusts shake the door;</div> -<div class="line">She will hear the winds howling,</div> -<div class="line">Will hear the waves roar.</div> -<div class="line">We shall see, while above us</div> -<div class="line">The waves roar and whirl,</div> -<div class="line">A ceiling of amber,</div> -<div class="line">A pavement of pearl.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_271" id="Page_271">271</a></span> -<div class="line">Singing: “Here came a mortal,</div> -<div class="line">But faithless was she:</div> -<div class="line">And alone dwell for ever</div> -<div class="line">The kings of the sea.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But, children, at midnight,</div> -<div class="line">When soft the winds blow,</div> -<div class="line">When clear falls the moonlight,</div> -<div class="line">When spring-tides are low:</div> -<div class="line">When sweet airs come seaward</div> -<div class="line">From heaths starr’d with broom;</div> -<div class="line">And high rocks throw mildly</div> -<div class="line">On the blanch’d sands a gloom:</div> -<div class="line">Up the still, glistening beaches,</div> -<div class="line">Up the creeks we will hie,</div> -<div class="line">Over banks of bright seaweed</div> -<div class="line">The ebb-tide leaves dry.</div> -<div class="line">We will gaze, from the sand-hills,</div> -<div class="line">At the white, sleeping town;</div> -<div class="line">At the church on the hill-side—</div> -<div class="line">And then come back down.</div> -<div class="line">Singing: “There dwells a loved one,</div> -<div class="line indent2">But cruel is she.</div> -<div class="line">She left lonely for ever</div> -<div class="line indent2">The kings of the sea.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Matthew Arnold.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_272" id="Page_272">272</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Legend_Beautiful" id="The_Legend_Beautiful"></a><span class="smcap">The Legend Beautiful</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled!”</div> -<div class="line">That is what the Vision said.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In his chamber all alone,</div> -<div class="line">Kneeling on the floor of stone,</div> -<div class="line">Prayed the Monk in deep contrition</div> -<div class="line">For his sins of indecision,</div> -<div class="line">Prayed for greater self-denial</div> -<div class="line">In temptation and in trial;</div> -<div class="line">It was noonday by the dial,</div> -<div class="line">And the Monk was all alone.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Suddenly, as if it lighten’d,</div> -<div class="line">An unwonted splendour brighten’d</div> -<div class="line">All within him and without him</div> -<div class="line">In that narrow cell of stone;</div> -<div class="line">And he saw the Blessed Vision</div> -<div class="line">Of our Lord, with light Elysian<a name="FNanchor_48_48" id="FNanchor_48_48"></a><a href="#Footnote_48_48" class="fnanchor">[48]</a></div> -<div class="line">Like a vesture wrapped about him,</div> -<div class="line">Like a garment round him thrown.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Not as crucified and slain,</div> -<div class="line">Not in agonies of pain,</div> -<div class="line">Not with bleeding hands and feet,</div> -<div class="line">Did the Monk his Master see;</div> -<div class="line">But as in the village street,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_273" id="Page_273">273</a></span> -<div class="line">In the house or harvest-field,</div> -<div class="line">Halt and lame and blind he healed,</div> -<div class="line">When he walked in Galilee.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In an attitude imploring,</div> -<div class="line">Hands upon his bosom crossed,</div> -<div class="line">Wondering, worshipping, adoring,</div> -<div class="line">Knelt the Monk in rapture lost.</div> -<div class="line">Lord, he thought, in heaven that reignest,</div> -<div class="line">Who am I, that thus thou deignest</div> -<div class="line">To reveal thyself to me?</div> -<div class="line">Who am I, that from the centre</div> -<div class="line">Of thy glory thou shouldst enter</div> -<div class="line">This poor cell, my guest to be?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then amid his exaltation,</div> -<div class="line">Loud the convent bell appalling,</div> -<div class="line">From its belfry calling, calling,</div> -<div class="line">Rang through court and corridor</div> -<div class="line">With persistent iteration</div> -<div class="line">He had never heard before.</div> -<div class="line">It was now the appointed hour</div> -<div class="line">When alike in sun or shower,</div> -<div class="line">Winter’s cold or summer’s heat,</div> -<div class="line">To the convent portals came</div> -<div class="line">All the blind and halt and lame,</div> -<div class="line">All the beggars of the street,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_274" id="Page_274">274</a></span> -<div class="line">For their daily dole of food</div> -<div class="line">Dealt them by the brotherhood;</div> -<div class="line">And their almoner<a name="FNanchor_49_49" id="FNanchor_49_49"></a><a href="#Footnote_49_49" class="fnanchor">[49]</a> was he</div> -<div class="line">Who upon his bended knee,</div> -<div class="line">Rapt in silent ecstasy</div> -<div class="line">Of divinest self-surrender,</div> -<div class="line">Saw the Vision and the Splendour.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Deep distress and hesitation</div> -<div class="line">Mingled with his adoration;</div> -<div class="line">Should he go or should he stay?</div> -<div class="line">Should he leave the poor to wait</div> -<div class="line">Hungry at the convent gate,</div> -<div class="line">Till the Vision passed away?</div> -<div class="line">Should he slight his radiant guest,</div> -<div class="line">Slight his visitant celestial,</div> -<div class="line">For a crowd of ragged, bestial</div> -<div class="line">Beggars at the convent gate?</div> -<div class="line">Would the Vision there remain?</div> -<div class="line">Would the Vision come again?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then a voice within his breast</div> -<div class="line">Whispered, audible and clear,</div> -<div class="line">As if to the outward ear:</div> -<div class="line">“Do thy duty; that is best;</div> -<div class="line">Leave unto thy Lord the rest!”</div> -<div class="line">Straightway to his feet he started,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_275" id="Page_275">275</a></span> -<div class="line">And with longing look intent</div> -<div class="line">On the Blessed Vision bent,</div> -<div class="line">Slowly from his cell departed,</div> -<div class="line">Slowly on his errand went.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">At the gate the poor were waiting,</div> -<div class="line">Looking through the iron grating,</div> -<div class="line">With that terror in the eye</div> -<div class="line">That is only seen in those</div> -<div class="line">Who amid their wants and woes</div> -<div class="line">Hear the sound of doors that close,</div> -<div class="line">And of feet that pass them by;</div> -<div class="line">Grown familiar with disfavour,</div> -<div class="line">Grown familiar with the savour</div> -<div class="line">Of the bread by which men die!</div> -<div class="line">But to-day, they knew not why,</div> -<div class="line">Like the gate of Paradise</div> -<div class="line">Seemed the convent gate to rise,</div> -<div class="line">Like a sacrament divine</div> -<div class="line">Seemed to them the bread and wine.</div> -<div class="line">In his heart the Monk was praying,</div> -<div class="line">Thinking of the homeless poor,</div> -<div class="line">What they suffer and endure;</div> -<div class="line">What we see not, what we see;</div> -<div class="line">And the inward voice was saying:</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_276" id="Page_276">276</a></span> -<div class="line">“Whatsoever thing thou doest</div> -<div class="line">To the least of mine and lowest,</div> -<div class="line">That thou doest unto me!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Unto me! but had the Vision</div> -<div class="line">Come to him in beggar’s clothing,</div> -<div class="line">Come a mendicant imploring,</div> -<div class="line">Would he then have knelt adoring,</div> -<div class="line">Or have listened with derision,</div> -<div class="line">And have turned away with loathing?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Thus his conscience put the question,</div> -<div class="line">Full of troublesome suggestion,</div> -<div class="line">As at length, with hurried pace,</div> -<div class="line">Towards his cell he turned his face,</div> -<div class="line">And beheld the convent bright</div> -<div class="line">With a supernatural light,</div> -<div class="line">Like a luminous cloud expanding</div> -<div class="line">Over floor and wall and ceiling.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But he paused with awe-struck feeling</div> -<div class="line">At the threshold of his door,</div> -<div class="line">For the Vision still was standing</div> -<div class="line">As he left it there before,</div> -<div class="line">When the convent bell appalling,</div> -<div class="line">From its belfry calling, calling,</div> -<div class="line">Summoned him to feed the poor.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_277" id="Page_277">277</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Through the long hour intervening</div> -<div class="line">It had waited his return,</div> -<div class="line">And he felt his bosom burn,</div> -<div class="line">Comprehending all the meaning,</div> -<div class="line">When the Blessed Vision said,</div> -<div class="line">“Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled!”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">H. W. Longfellow.</p> - - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_48_48" id="Footnote_48_48"></a><a href="#FNanchor_48_48"><span class="label">[48]</span></a> <em>Elysian</em>: heavenly.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_49_49" id="Footnote_49_49"></a><a href="#FNanchor_49_49"><span class="label">[49]</span></a> <em>almoner</em>: giver of alms or charity.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Abou_Ben_Adhem" id="Abou_Ben_Adhem"></a><span class="smcap">Abou Ben Adhem</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)</div> -<div class="line">Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,</div> -<div class="line">And saw, within the moonlight in his room,</div> -<div class="line">Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,</div> -<div class="line">An angel writing in a book of gold:—</div> -<div class="line">Exceeding peace had made Ben Adhem bold,</div> -<div class="line">And to the presence in the room he said,</div> -<div class="line">“What writest thou?”—The vision rais’d its head,</div> -<div class="line">And with a look made all of sweet accord,</div> -<div class="line">Answer’d, “The names of those that love the Lord.”</div> -<div class="line">“And is mine one?” said Abou. “Nay, not so,”</div> -<div class="line">Replied the angel. Abou spoke more low,</div> -<div class="line">But cheerly still; and said, “I pray thee, then,</div> -<div class="line">Write me as one that loves his fellow men.”</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_278" id="Page_278">278</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The angel wrote, and vanished. The next night</div> -<div class="line">It came again with a great wakening light,</div> -<div class="line">And show’d the names whom love of God had blest,</div> -<div class="line">And lo! Ben Adhem’s name led all the rest.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Leigh Hunt.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Sands_of_Dee" id="The_Sands_of_Dee"></a><span class="smcap">The Sands of Dee</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“O Mary, go and call the cattle home,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And call the cattle home,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And call the cattle home,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Across the sands of Dee”;</div> -<div class="line">The western wind was wild and dank with foam,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And all alone went she.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The western tide crept up along the sand,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And o’er and o’er the sand,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And round and round the sand,</div> -<div class="line indent4">As far as eye could see.</div> -<div class="line">The rolling mist came down and hid the land:</div> -<div class="line indent4">And never home came she.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_279" id="Page_279">279</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“O is it weed, or fish, or floating hair—</div> -<div class="line indent2">A tress of golden hair,</div> -<div class="line indent2">A drownèd maiden’s hair,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Above the nets at sea?”</div> -<div class="line">Was never salmon yet that shone so fair</div> -<div class="line indent4">Among the stakes of Dee.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">They rowed her in across the rolling foam,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The cruel crawling foam,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The cruel hungry foam,</div> -<div class="line indent4">To her grave beside the sea.</div> -<div class="line">But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Across the sands of Dee.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Charles Kingsley.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Lochinvar" id="Lochinvar"></a><span class="smcap">Lochinvar</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O young Lochinvar is come out of the west,</div> -<div class="line">Through all the wide Border his steed was the best,</div> -<div class="line">And save his good broad-sword he weapons had none;</div> -<div class="line">He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.</div> -<div class="line">So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,</div> -<div class="line">There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_280" id="Page_280">280</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">He stay’d not for brake, and he stopp’d not for stone,</div> -<div class="line">He swam the Esk river where ford there was none;</div> -<div class="line">But, ere he alighted at Netherby gate,</div> -<div class="line">The bride had consented, the gallant came late:</div> -<div class="line">For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,</div> -<div class="line">Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">So boldly he entered the Netherby Hall,</div> -<div class="line">Among bride’s-men and kinsmen, and brothers and all:</div> -<div class="line">Then spoke the bride’s father, his hand on his sword</div> -<div class="line">(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word),</div> -<div class="line">“O come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,</div> -<div class="line">Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“I long wooed your daughter, my suit you denied:—</div> -<div class="line">Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide—</div> -<div class="line">And now I am come, with this lost love of mine</div> -<div class="line">To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_281" id="Page_281">281</a></span> -<div class="line">There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by <a name="far" id="far"></a><ins title="Original has period instead of comma">far,</ins></div> -<div class="line">That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The bride kiss’d the goblet; the knight took it up,</div> -<div class="line">He quaff’d off the wine, and he threw down the cup;</div> -<div class="line">She look’d down to blush, and she look’d up to sigh,</div> -<div class="line">With a smile on her lips and a tear in her eye.</div> -<div class="line">He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,—</div> -<div class="line">“Now tread we a measure!” said young Lochinvar.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">So stately his form, and so lovely her face,</div> -<div class="line">That never a hall such a galliard<a name="FNanchor_50_50" id="FNanchor_50_50"></a><a href="#Footnote_50_50" class="fnanchor">[50]</a> did grace;</div> -<div class="line">While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,</div> -<div class="line">And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;</div> -<div class="line">And the bride-maidens whisper’d, “’Twere better by far</div> -<div class="line">To have match’d our fair cousin with young Lochinvar.”</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_282" id="Page_282">282</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">One touch to her hand and one word in her ear,</div> -<div class="line">When they reach’d the hall door and the charger stood near;</div> -<div class="line">So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,</div> -<div class="line">So light to the saddle before her he sprung!</div> -<div class="line">“She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur<a name="FNanchor_51_51" id="FNanchor_51_51"></a><a href="#Footnote_51_51" class="fnanchor">[51]</a>;</div> -<div class="line">They’ll have fleet steeds that follow,” quoth young Lochinvar.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There was mounting ’mong Graemes of the Netherby clan;</div> -<div class="line">Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran:</div> -<div class="line">There was racing and chasing on Cannobie Lee,</div> -<div class="line">But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see.</div> -<div class="line">So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,</div> -<div class="line">Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Sir Walter Scott.</p> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_50_50" id="Footnote_50_50"></a><a href="#FNanchor_50_50"><span class="label">[50]</span></a> <em>galliard</em>: a gay dance.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_51_51" id="Footnote_51_51"></a><a href="#FNanchor_51_51"><span class="label">[51]</span></a> <em>scaur</em>: a steep bank.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_283" id="Page_283">283</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="DAY-DREAMS" id="DAY-DREAMS"></a>DAY-DREAMS</h2> - -<p><em>This section will appeal to girls rather than to boys. And yet -day-dreams are no bad things for either sex—just now and again, as a -getting away from realities.</em></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Dreams_to_Sell" id="Dreams_to_Sell"></a><span class="smcap">Dreams to Sell</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">If there were dreams to sell,</div> -<div class="line indent2">What would you buy?</div> -<div class="line">Some cost a passing bell;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Some a light sigh,</div> -<div class="line">That shakes from Life’s fresh crown</div> -<div class="line">Only a rose-leaf down.</div> -<div class="line">If there were dreams to sell,</div> -<div class="line">Merry and sad to tell,</div> -<div class="line">And the crier rang the bell,</div> -<div class="line indent2">What would you buy?</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">A cottage lone and still,</div> -<div class="line indent2">With bowers nigh,</div> -<div class="line">Shadowy, my woes to still,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Until I die.</div> -<div class="line">Such pearl from Life’s fresh crown</div> -<div class="line">Fain would I shake me down.</div> -<div class="line">Were dreams to have at will,</div> -<div class="line">This would best heal my ill,</div> -<div class="line indent2">This would I buy.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">T. L. Beddoes.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_284" id="Page_284">284</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Lost_Bower" id="The_Lost_Bower"></a><span class="smcap">The Lost Bower</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">In the pleasant orchard closes,</div> -<div class="line indent6">“God bless all our gains,” say we;</div> -<div class="line indent6">But “May God bless all our losses,”</div> -<div class="line indent6">Better suits with our degree.—</div> -<div class="line">Listen gentle—ay, and simple! Listen children on the knee!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Green the land is where my daily</div> -<div class="line indent6">Steps in jocund childhood played—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Dimpled close with hill and valley,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Dappled very close with shade;</div> -<div class="line">Summer-snow of apple blossoms, running up from glade to glade.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">There is one hill I see nearer,</div> -<div class="line indent6">In my vision of the rest;</div> -<div class="line indent6">And a little wood seems clearer,</div> -<div class="line indent6">As it climbeth from the west,</div> -<div class="line">Sideway from the tree-locked valley, to the airy upland crest.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Small the wood is, green with hazels,</div> -<div class="line indent6">And, completing the ascent,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Where the wind blows and sun dazzles,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Thrills in leafy tremblement:</div> -<div class="line">Like a heart that, after climbing, beateth quickly through content.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_285" id="Page_285">285</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Not a step the wood advances</div> -<div class="line indent6">O’er the open hill-top’s bound:</div> -<div class="line indent6">There, in green arrest, the branches</div> -<div class="line indent6">See their image on the ground:</div> -<div class="line">You may walk between them smiling, glad with sight and glad with sound.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">For you hearken on your right hand,</div> -<div class="line indent6">How the birds do leap and call</div> -<div class="line indent6">In the greenwood, out of sight and</div> -<div class="line indent6">Out of reach and fear of all;</div> -<div class="line">And the squirrels crack the filberts, through their cheerful madrigal.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">On your left, the sheep are cropping</div> -<div class="line indent6">The slant grass and daisies pale;</div> -<div class="line indent6">And five apple-trees stand, dropping</div> -<div class="line indent6">Separate shadows toward the vale,</div> -<div class="line">Over which, in choral silence, the hills look you their “All hail!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Yet in childhood little prized I</div> -<div class="line indent6">That fair walk and far survey:</div> -<div class="line indent6">’Twas a straight walk, unadvised by</div> -<div class="line indent6">The least mischief worth a nay—</div> -<div class="line">Up and down—as dull as grammar on an eve of holiday!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_286" id="Page_286">286</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">But the wood, all close and clenching</div> -<div class="line indent6">Bough in bough and root in root,—</div> -<div class="line indent6">No more sky (for over-branching)</div> -<div class="line indent6">At your head than at your foot,—</div> -<div class="line">Oh, the wood drew me within it, by a glamour past dispute.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Few and broken paths showed through it,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Where the sheep had tried to run,—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Forced with snowy wool to strew it</div> -<div class="line indent6">Round the thickets, when anon</div> -<div class="line">They with silly thorn-pricked noses bleated back into the sun.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">But my childish heart beat stronger</div> -<div class="line indent6">Than those thickets dared to grow:</div> -<div class="line indent6"><em>I</em> could pierce them! <em>I</em> could longer</div> -<div class="line indent6">Travel on, methought, than so!</div> -<div class="line">Sheep for sheep-paths! braver children climb and creep where they would go.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">On a day, such pastime keeping,</div> -<div class="line indent6">With a fawn’s heart debonair,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Under-crawling, overleaping</div> -<div class="line indent6">Thorns that prick and boughs that bear,</div> -<div class="line">I stood suddenly astonished—I was gladdened unaware!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_287" id="Page_287">287</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">From the place I stood in, floated</div> -<div class="line indent6">Back the covert dim and close;</div> -<div class="line indent6">And the open ground was suited</div> -<div class="line indent6">Carpet-smooth with grass and moss,</div> -<div class="line">And the blue-bell’s purple presence signed it worthily across.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">’Twas a bower for garden fitter,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Than for any woodland wide!</div> -<div class="line indent6">Though a fresh and dewy glitter</div> -<div class="line indent6">Struck it through, from side to side,</div> -<div class="line">Shaped and shaven was the freshness, as by garden-cunning plied.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Rose-trees, either side the door, were</div> -<div class="line indent6">Growing lithe and growing tall;</div> -<div class="line indent6">Each one set a summer warder</div> -<div class="line indent6">For the keeping of the hall,—</div> -<div class="line">With a red rose, and a white rose, leaning, nodding at the wall.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">As I entered—mosses hushing</div> -<div class="line indent6">Stole all noises from my foot:</div> -<div class="line indent6">And a round elastic cushion,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Clasped within the linden’s root,</div> -<div class="line">Took me in a chair of silence, very rare and absolute.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_288" id="Page_288">288</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">So, young muser, I sat listening</div> -<div class="line indent6">To my Fancy’s wildest word—</div> -<div class="line indent6">On a sudden, through the glistening</div> -<div class="line indent6">Leaves around, a little stirred,</div> -<div class="line">Came a sound, a sense of music, which was rather felt than heard.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Softly, finely, it inwound me—</div> -<div class="line indent6">From the world it shut me in,—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Like a fountain falling round me,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Which with silver waters thin</div> -<div class="line">Clips a little marble Naiad, sitting smilingly within.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Whence the music came, who knoweth?</div> -<div class="line indent6"><em>I</em> know nothing. But indeed</div> -<div class="line indent6">Pan or Faunus never bloweth</div> -<div class="line indent6">So much sweetness from a reed</div> -<div class="line">Which has sucked the milk of waters, at the oldest river-head.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Never lark the sun can waken</div> -<div class="line indent6">With such sweetness! when the lark,</div> -<div class="line indent6">The high planets overtaking</div> -<div class="line indent6">In the half-evanished Dark,</div> -<div class="line">Casts his singing to their singing, like an arrow to the mark.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_289" id="Page_289">289</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Never nightingale so singeth—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Oh! she leans on thorny tree,</div> -<div class="line indent6">And her poet-soul she flingeth</div> -<div class="line indent6">Over pain to victory!</div> -<div class="line">Yet she never sings such music,—or she sings it not to me!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Never blackbirds, never thrushes,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Nor small finches sing as sweet,</div> -<div class="line indent6">When the sun strikes through the bushes</div> -<div class="line indent6">To their crimson clinging feet,</div> -<div class="line">And their pretty eyes look sideways to the summer heavens complete.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">In a child-abstraction lifted,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Straightway from the bower I passed;</div> -<div class="line indent6">Foot and soul being dimly drifted</div> -<div class="line indent6">Through the greenwood, till, at last,</div> -<div class="line">In the hill-top’s open sunshine, I all consciously was cast.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">And I said within me, laughing,</div> -<div class="line indent6">I have found a bower to-day,</div> -<div class="line indent6">A green lusus<a name="FNanchor_52_52" id="FNanchor_52_52"></a><a href="#Footnote_52_52" class="fnanchor">[52]</a>—fashioned half in</div> -<div class="line indent6">Chance, and half in Nature’s play—</div> -<div class="line">And a little bird sings nigh it, I will never more missay.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_290" id="Page_290">290</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Henceforth, <em>I</em> will be the fairy</div> -<div class="line indent6">Of this bower, not built by one;</div> -<div class="line indent6">I will go there, sad or merry,</div> -<div class="line indent6">With each morning’s benison;</div> -<div class="line">And the bird shall be my harper in the dream-hall I have won.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">So I said. But the next morning,</div> -<div class="line indent6">(—Child, look up into my face—</div> -<div class="line indent6">’Ware, O sceptic, of your scorning!</div> -<div class="line indent6">This is truth in its pure grace;)</div> -<div class="line">The next morning, all had vanished, or my wandering missed the place.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">Day by day, with new desire,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Toward my wood I ran in faith—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Under leaf and over brier—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Through the thickets, out of breath—</div> -<div class="line">Like the prince who rescued Beauty from the sleep as long as death.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">But his sword of mettle clashèd,</div> -<div class="line indent6">And his arm smote strong, I ween;</div> -<div class="line indent6">And her dreaming spirit flashèd</div> -<div class="line indent6">Through her body’s fair white screen,</div> -<div class="line">And the light thereof might guide him up the cedarn alleys green.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_291" id="Page_291">291</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">But for me, I saw no splendour—</div> -<div class="line indent6">All my sword was my child-heart;</div> -<div class="line indent6">And the wood refused surrender</div> -<div class="line indent6">Of that bower it held apart,</div> -<div class="line">Safe as Œdipus’s grave-place, ’mid Colone’s olives swart.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">I have lost—oh many a pleasure—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Many a hope, and many a power—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Studious health and merry leisure—</div> -<div class="line indent6">The first dew on the first flower!</div> -<div class="line">But the first of all my losses was the losing of the bower.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">All my losses did I tell you,</div> -<div class="line indent6">Ye, perchance, would look away;—</div> -<div class="line indent6">Ye would answer me, “Farewell! you</div> -<div class="line indent6">Make sad company to-day;</div> -<div class="line">And your tears are falling faster than the bitter words you say.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent6">For God placed me like a dial</div> -<div class="line indent6">In the open ground, with power;</div> -<div class="line indent6">And my heart had for its trial,</div> -<div class="line indent6">All the sun and all the shower!</div> -<div class="line">And I suffered many losses; and my first was of the bower.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Elizabeth Barrett Browning.</p> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_52_52" id="Footnote_52_52"></a><a href="#FNanchor_52_52"><span class="label">[52]</span></a> <em>lusus</em>: a sport, a freak.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_292" id="Page_292">292</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Echo_and_the_Ferry" id="Echo_and_the_Ferry"></a><span class="smcap">Echo and the Ferry</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ay, Oliver! I was but seven, and he was eleven;</div> -<div class="line">He looked at me pouting and rosy. I blushed where I stood.</div> -<div class="line">They had told us to play in the orchard (and I only seven!</div> -<div class="line">A small guest at the farm); but he said, “Oh, a girl was no good,”</div> -<div class="line">So he whistled and went, he went over the stile to the wood.</div> -<div class="line">It was sad, it was sorrowful! Only a girl—only seven!</div> -<div class="line">At home in the dark London smoke I had not found it out.</div> -<div class="line">The pear trees looked on in their white, and blue birds flashed about;</div> -<div class="line">And they too were angry as Oliver. Were they eleven?</div> -<div class="line">I thought so. Yes, every one else was eleven—eleven!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">So Oliver went, but the cowslips were tall at my feet,</div> -<div class="line">And all the white orchard with fast-falling blossom was littered,</div> -<div class="line">And under and over the branches those little birds twittered,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_293" id="Page_293">293</a></span> -<div class="line">While hanging head downwards they scolded because I was seven.</div> -<div class="line">A pity. A very great pity. One should be eleven.</div> -<div class="line">But soon I was happy, the smell of the world was so sweet.</div> -<div class="line">And I saw a round hole in an apple-tree rosy and old.</div> -<div class="line">Then I knew! for I peeped, and I felt it was right they should scold!</div> -<div class="line">Eggs small and eggs many. For gladness I broke into laughter;</div> -<div class="line">And then some one else—oh, how softly! came after, came after</div> -<div class="line">With laughter—with laughter came after.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">So this was the country; clear dazzle of azure and shiver</div> -<div class="line">And whisper of leaves, and a humming all over the tall</div> -<div class="line">White branches, a humming of bees. And I came to the wall—</div> -<div class="line">A little low wall—and looked over, and there was the river,</div> -<div class="line">The lane that led on to the village, and then the sweet river.</div> -<div class="line">Clear-shining and slow, she had far far to go from her snow;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_294" id="Page_294">294</a></span> -<div class="line">But each rush gleamed a sword in the sunlight to guard her long flow,</div> -<div class="line">And she murmured methought, with a speech very soft, very low—</div> -<div class="line">“The ways will be long, but the days will be long,” quoth the river,</div> -<div class="line">“To me a long liver, long, long!” quoth the river—the river.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I dreamed of the country that night, of the orchard, the sky,</div> -<div class="line">The voice that had mocked coming after and over and under.</div> -<div class="line">But at last—in a day or two namely—Eleven and I</div> -<div class="line">Were very fast friends, and to him I confided the wonder.</div> -<div class="line">He said that was Echo. “Was Echo a wise kind of bee</div> -<div class="line">That had learned how to laugh: could it laugh in one’s ear and then fly,</div> -<div class="line">And laugh again yonder?” “No; Echo”—he whispered it low—</div> -<div class="line">“Was a woman, they said, but a woman whom no one could see</div> -<div class="line">And no one could find; and he did not believe it, not he,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_295" id="Page_295">295</a></span> -<div class="line">But he could not get near for the river that held us asunder.</div> -<div class="line">Yet I that had money—a shilling, a whole silver shilling—</div> -<div class="line">We might cross if I thought I would spend it.” “Oh yes, I was willing”—</div> -<div class="line">And we ran hand in hand, we ran down to the ferry, the ferry,</div> -<div class="line">And we heard how she mocked at the folk with a voice clear and merry</div> -<div class="line">When they called for the ferry; but oh! she was very—was very</div> -<div class="line">Swift-footed. She spoke and was gone; and when Oliver cried,</div> -<div class="line">“Hie over! hie over! you man of the ferry—the ferry!”</div> -<div class="line">By the still water’s side she was heard far and wide—she replied,</div> -<div class="line">And she mocked in her voice sweet and merry “You man of the ferry,</div> -<div class="line">You man of—you man of the ferry!”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">“Hie over!” he shouted. The ferryman came at his calling,</div> -<div class="line">Across the clear reed-bordered river he ferried us fast;—</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_296" id="Page_296">296</a></span> -<div class="line">Such a chase! Hand in hand, foot to foot, we ran on; it surpassed</div> -<div class="line">All measure her doubling—so close, then so far away falling,</div> -<div class="line">Then gone, and no more. Oh! to see her but once unaware,</div> -<div class="line">And the mouth that had mocked, but we might not (yet sure she was there!)</div> -<div class="line">Nor behold her wild eyes and her mystical countenance fair.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">We sought in the wood, and we found the wood-wren in her stead;</div> -<div class="line">In the field, and we found but the cuckoo that talked overhead;</div> -<div class="line">By the brook, and we found the reed-sparrow deep-nested, in brown—</div> -<div class="line">Not Echo, fair Echo! for Echo, sweet Echo! was flown.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">So we came to the place where the dead people wait till God call.</div> -<div class="line">The church was among them, grey moss over roof, over wall.</div> -<div class="line">Very silent, so low. And we stood on a green grassy mound</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_297" id="Page_297">297</a></span> -<div class="line">And looked in at a window, for Echo, perhaps, in her round</div> -<div class="line">Might have come in to hide there. But no; every oak carven seat</div> -<div class="line">Was empty. We saw the great Bible—old, old, very old,</div> -<div class="line">And the parson’s great Prayer-book beside it; we heard the slow beat</div> -<div class="line">Of the pendulum swing in the tower; we saw the clear gold</div> -<div class="line">Of a sunbeam float down to the aisle and then waver and play</div> -<div class="line">On the low chancel step and the railing, and Oliver said,</div> -<div class="line">“Look, Katie! Look, Katie! when Lettice came here to be wed</div> -<div class="line">She stood where that sunbeam drops down, and all white was her gown;</div> -<div class="line">And she stepped upon flowers they strewed for her.” Then quoth small Seven,</div> -<div class="line">“Shall I wear a white gown and have flowers to walk upon ever?”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">All doubtful: “It takes a long time to grow up,” quoth Eleven;</div> -<div class="line">“You’re so little, you know, and the church is so old, it can never</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_298" id="Page_298">298</a></span> -<div class="line">Last on till you’re tall.” And in whispers—because it was old,</div> -<div class="line">And holy, and fraught with strange meaning, half felt, but not told,</div> -<div class="line">Full of old parsons’ prayers, who were dead, of old days, of old folk</div> -<div class="line">Neither heard nor beheld, but about us, in whispers we spoke.</div> -<div class="line">Then we went from it softly, and ran hand in hand to the strand,</div> -<div class="line">While bleating of flocks and birds piping made sweeter the land,</div> -<div class="line">And Echo came back e’en as Oliver drew to the ferry,</div> -<div class="line">“O Katie!” “O Katie!” “Come on, then!” “Come on, then!” “For, see,</div> -<div class="line">The round sun, all red, lying low by the tree”—“by the tree.”</div> -<div class="line">“By the tree.” Ay, she mocked him again, with her voice sweet and merry:</div> -<div class="line">“Hie over!” “Hie over!” “You man of the ferry”—“the ferry.”</div> -<div class="line">“You man of the ferry—you man of—you man of—the ferry.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ay, here—it was here that we woke her, the Echo of old;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_299" id="Page_299">299</a></span> -<div class="line">All life of that day seems an echo, and many times told.</div> -<div class="line">Shall I cross by the ferry to-morrow, and come in my white</div> -<div class="line">To that little old church? and will Oliver meet me anon?</div> -<div class="line">Will it all seem an echo from childhood passed over—passed on?</div> -<div class="line">Will the grave parson bless us? Hark, hark! in the dim failing light</div> -<div class="line">I hear her! As then the child’s voice clear and high, sweet and merry</div> -<div class="line">Now she mocks the man’s tone with “Hie over! Hie over the ferry!”</div> -<div class="line">“And Katie.” “And Katie.” “Art out with the glowworms to-night,</div> -<div class="line">My Katie?” “My Katie.” For gladness I break into laughter</div> -<div class="line">And tears. Then it all comes again as from far-away years;</div> -<div class="line">Again, some one else—Oh, how softly!—with laughter comes after,</div> -<div class="line">Comes after—with laughter comes after.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Jean Ingelow.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_300" id="Page_300">300</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Poor_Susans_Dream" id="Poor_Susans_Dream"></a><span class="smcap">Poor Susan’s Dream</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears,</div> -<div class="line">Hangs a thrush that sings loud, it has sung for three years:</div> -<div class="line">Poor Susan has passed by the spot, and has heard</div> -<div class="line">In the silence of morning the song of the bird.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">’Tis a note of enchantment; what ails her? She sees</div> -<div class="line">A mountain ascending, a vision of trees;</div> -<div class="line">Bright volumes of vapour through Lothbury glide,</div> -<div class="line">And a river flows on through the vale of Cheapside.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Green pastures she views in the midst of the dale</div> -<div class="line">Down which she so often has tripp’d with her pail;</div> -<div class="line">And a single small cottage, a nest like a dove’s,</div> -<div class="line">The one only dwelling on earth that she loves.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_301" id="Page_301">301</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">She looks, and her heart is in heaven: but they fade,</div> -<div class="line">The mist and the river, the hill and the shade;</div> -<div class="line">The stream will not flow, and the hill will not rise,</div> -<div class="line">And the colours have all passed away from her eyes!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">William Wordsworth.</p> - - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Fancy" id="Fancy"></a><span class="smcap">Fancy</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Tell me where is Fancy bred,</div> -<div class="line">Or in the heart or in the head?</div> -<div class="line">How begot, how nourishèd?</div> -<div class="line indent4">Reply, reply.</div> -<div class="line">It is engender’d in the eyes,</div> -<div class="line">With gazing fed; and Fancy dies</div> -<div class="line">In the cradle where it lies.</div> -<div class="line indent2">Let us all ring Fancy’s knell:</div> -<div class="line indent2">I’ll begin it,—Ding, dong, bell.</div> -<div class="line">Ding, dong, bell.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Shakespeare.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_302" id="Page_302">302</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="TWO_HOME-COMINGS" id="TWO_HOME-COMINGS"></a>TWO HOME-COMINGS</h2> - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Good_Woman_Made_Welcome_in_Heaven" id="The_Good_Woman_Made_Welcome_in_Heaven"></a><span class="smcap">1. The Good Woman Made Welcome in Heaven</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee,</div> -<div class="line">Glad at their own home now to meet thee.</div> -<div class="line">All thy good works which went before,</div> -<div class="line">And waited for thee at the door,</div> -<div class="line">Shall own thee there; and all in one</div> -<div class="line">Weave a constellation</div> -<div class="line">Of crowns, with which the King, thy spouse,</div> -<div class="line">Shall build up thy triumphant brows.</div> -<div class="line">All thy old woes shall now smile on thee,</div> -<div class="line">And thy pains sit bright upon thee:</div> -<div class="line">All thy sorrows here shall shine,</div> -<div class="line">And thy sufferings be divine.</div> -<div class="line">Tears shall take comfort, and turn gems,</div> -<div class="line">And wrongs repent to diadems.</div> -<div class="line">Even thy deaths shall live, and new</div> -<div class="line">Dress the soul which late they slew.</div> -<div class="line">Thy wounds shall blush to such bright scars</div> -<div class="line">As keep account of the Lamb’s wars.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Richard Crashaw.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_303" id="Page_303">303</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Soldier_Relieved" id="The_Soldier_Relieved"></a><span class="smcap">2. The Soldier Relieved</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I’d like now, yet had haply been afraid,</div> -<div class="line">To have just looked, when this man came to die,</div> -<div class="line">And seen who lined the clean gay garret sides,</div> -<div class="line">And stood about the neat low truckle-bed,</div> -<div class="line">With the heavenly manner of relieving guard.</div> -<div class="line">Here had been, mark, the general-in-chief,</div> -<div class="line">Thro’ a whole campaign of the world’s life and death,</div> -<div class="line">Doing the King’s work all the dim day long,</div> -<div class="line">In his old coat and up to knees in mud,</div> -<div class="line">Smoked like a herring, dining on a crust,—</div> -<div class="line">And, now the day was won, relieved at once!</div> -<div class="line">No further show or need of that old coat,</div> -<div class="line">You are sure, for one thing! Bless us, all the while</div> -<div class="line">How sprucely we are dressed out, you and I!</div> -<div class="line">A second, and the angels alter that.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Browning.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_304" id="Page_304">304</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WHEN_KNIGHTS_WERE_BOLD" id="WHEN_KNIGHTS_WERE_BOLD"></a>WHEN KNIGHTS WERE BOLD</h2> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Hunting_Song" id="Hunting_Song"></a><span class="smcap">Hunting Song</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Waken, lords and ladies gay,</div> -<div class="line">On the mountain dawns the day,</div> -<div class="line">All the jolly chase is here,</div> -<div class="line">With horse, and hawk, and hunting spear!</div> -<div class="line">Hounds are in their couples yelling,</div> -<div class="line">Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling<a name="FNanchor_53_53" id="FNanchor_53_53"></a><a href="#Footnote_53_53" class="fnanchor">[53]</a>.</div> -<div class="line">Merrily, merrily, mingle they,</div> -<div class="line">“Waken, lords and ladies gay.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Waken, lords and ladies gay,</div> -<div class="line">The mist has left the mountain grey,</div> -<div class="line">Springlets in the dawn are steaming,</div> -<div class="line">Diamonds on the brake<a name="FNanchor_54_54" id="FNanchor_54_54"></a><a href="#Footnote_54_54" class="fnanchor">[54]</a> are gleaming,</div> -<div class="line">And foresters have busy been</div> -<div class="line">To track the buck in thicket green;</div> -<div class="line">Now we come to chant our lay,</div> -<div class="line">“Waken, lords and ladies gay.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Waken, lords and ladies gay,</div> -<div class="line">To the greenwood haste away;</div> -<div class="line">We can show you where he lies,</div> -<div class="line">Fleet of foot, and tall of size;</div> -<div class="line">We can show the marks he made</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_305" id="Page_305">305</a></span> -<div class="line">When ’gainst the oak his antlers<a name="FNanchor_55_55" id="FNanchor_55_55"></a><a href="#Footnote_55_55" class="fnanchor">[55]</a> frayed;</div> -<div class="line">You shall see him brought to bay;</div> -<div class="line">“Waken, lords and ladies gay.”</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Louder, louder chant the lay,</div> -<div class="line">Waken, lords and ladies gay!</div> -<div class="line">Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee,</div> -<div class="line">Run a course as well as we;</div> -<div class="line">Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,</div> -<div class="line">Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk?</div> -<div class="line">Think of this, and rise with day,</div> -<div class="line">Gentle lords and ladies gay!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Sir Walter Scott.</p> - - - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_53_53" id="Footnote_53_53"></a><a href="#FNanchor_53_53"><span class="label">[53]</span></a> <em>knelling</em>: sounding like a bell.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_54_54" id="Footnote_54_54"></a><a href="#FNanchor_54_54"><span class="label">[54]</span></a> <em>brake</em>: fern, bracken.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_55_55" id="Footnote_55_55"></a><a href="#FNanchor_55_55"><span class="label">[55]</span></a> <em>antlers</em>: horns.</p></div> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="The_Riding_to_the_Tournament" id="The_Riding_to_the_Tournament"></a><span class="smcap">The Riding to the Tournament</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Over meadows purple-flowered,</div> -<div class="line">Through the dark lanes oak-embowered,</div> -<div class="line">Over commons dry and brown,</div> -<div class="line">Through the silent red-roofed town,</div> -<div class="line">Past the reapers and the sheaves,</div> -<div class="line">Over white roads strewn with leaves,</div> -<div class="line">By the gipsy’s ragged tent,</div> -<div class="line">Rode we to the Tournament.</div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_306" id="Page_306">306</a></span></div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Over clover wet with dew,</div> -<div class="line">Whence the sky-lark, startled, flew,</div> -<div class="line">Through brown fallows, where the hare</div> -<div class="line">Leapt up from its subtle lair,</div> -<div class="line">Past the mill-stream and the reeds</div> -<div class="line">Where the stately heron feeds,</div> -<div class="line">By the warren’s sunny wall,</div> -<div class="line">Where the dry leaves shake and fall,</div> -<div class="line">By the hall’s ancestral trees,</div> -<div class="line">Bent and writhing in the breeze,</div> -<div class="line">Rode we all with one intent,</div> -<div class="line">Gaily to the Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Golden sparkles, flashing gem,</div> -<div class="line">Lit the robes of each of them,</div> -<div class="line">Cloak of velvet, robe of silk,</div> -<div class="line">Mantle snowy-white as milk,</div> -<div class="line">Rings upon our bridle-hand,</div> -<div class="line">Jewels on our belt and band,</div> -<div class="line">Bells upon our golden reins,</div> -<div class="line">Tinkling spurs and shining chains—</div> -<div class="line">In such merry mob we went</div> -<div class="line">Riding to the Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Laughing voices, scraps of song,</div> -<div class="line">Lusty music loud and strong,</div> -<div class="line">Rustling of the banners blowing,</div> -<div class="line">Whispers as of rivers flowing.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_307" id="Page_307">307</a></span> -<div class="line">Whistle of the hawks we bore</div> -<div class="line">As they rise and as they soar,</div> -<div class="line">Now and then a clash of drums</div> -<div class="line">As the rabble louder hums,</div> -<div class="line">Now and then a burst of horns</div> -<div class="line">Sounding over brooks and bourns,</div> -<div class="line">As in merry guise we went</div> -<div class="line">Riding to the Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">There were abbots fat and sleek,</div> -<div class="line">Nuns in couples, pale and meek,</div> -<div class="line">Jugglers tossing cups and knives,</div> -<div class="line">Yeomen with their buxom wives,</div> -<div class="line">Pages playing with the curls</div> -<div class="line">Of the rosy village girls,</div> -<div class="line">Grizzly knights with faces scarred,</div> -<div class="line">Staring through their vizors barred,</div> -<div class="line">Huntsmen cheering with a shout</div> -<div class="line">At the wild stag breaking out,</div> -<div class="line">Harper, stately as a king,</div> -<div class="line">Touching now and then a string,</div> -<div class="line">As our revel laughing went</div> -<div class="line">To the solemn Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Charger with the massy chest,</div> -<div class="line">Foam-spots flecking mane and breast,</div> -<div class="line">Pacing stately, pawing ground,</div> -<div class="line">Fretting for the trumpet’s sound,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_308" id="Page_308">308</a></span> -<div class="line">White and sorrel, roan and bay,</div> -<div class="line">Dappled, spotted, black, and grey,</div> -<div class="line">Palfreys snowy as the dawn,</div> -<div class="line">Ponies sallow as the fawn,</div> -<div class="line">All together neighing went</div> -<div class="line">Trampling to the Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Long hair scattered in the wind,</div> -<div class="line">Curls that flew a yard behind,</div> -<div class="line">Flags that struggled like a bird</div> -<div class="line">Chained and restive—not a word</div> -<div class="line">But half buried in a laugh;</div> -<div class="line">And the lance’s gilded staff</div> -<div class="line">Shaking when the bearer shook</div> -<div class="line">At the jester’s merry look,</div> -<div class="line">As he grins upon his mule,</div> -<div class="line">Like an urchin leaving school,</div> -<div class="line">Shaking bauble, tossing bells,</div> -<div class="line">At the merry jest he tells,—</div> -<div class="line">So in happy mood we went,</div> -<div class="line">Laughing to the Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">What a bustle at the inn,</div> -<div class="line">What a stir, without—within;</div> -<div class="line">Filling flagons, brimming bowls</div> -<div class="line">For a hundred thirsty souls;</div> -<div class="line">Froth in snow-flakes flowing down,</div> -<div class="line">From the pitcher big and brown,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_309" id="Page_309">309</a></span> -<div class="line">While the tankards brim and bubble</div> -<div class="line">With the balm for human trouble;</div> -<div class="line">How the maiden coyly sips,</div> -<div class="line">How the yeoman wipes his lips,</div> -<div class="line">How the old knight drains the cup</div> -<div class="line">Slowly and with calmness up,</div> -<div class="line">And the abbot, with a prayer,</div> -<div class="line">Fills the silver goblet rare,</div> -<div class="line">Praying to the saints for strength</div> -<div class="line">As he holds it at arm’s length;</div> -<div class="line">How the jester spins the bowl</div> -<div class="line">On his thumb, then quaffs the whole;</div> -<div class="line">How the pompous steward bends</div> -<div class="line">And bows to half-a-dozen friends,</div> -<div class="line">As in a thirsty mood we went</div> -<div class="line">Duly to the Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Then again the country over</div> -<div class="line">Through the stubble and the clover,</div> -<div class="line">By the crystal-dropping springs,</div> -<div class="line">Where the road dust clogs and clings</div> -<div class="line">To the pearl-leaf of the rose,</div> -<div class="line">Where the tawdry nightshade blows,</div> -<div class="line">And the bramble twines its chains</div> -<div class="line">Through the sunny village lanes,</div> -<div class="line">Where the thistle sheds its seed,</div> -<div class="line">And the goldfinch loves to feed,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_310" id="Page_310">310</a></span> -<div class="line">By the milestone green with moss,</div> -<div class="line">By the broken wayside cross,</div> -<div class="line">In a merry band we went</div> -<div class="line">Shouting to the Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Pilgrims with their hood and cowl,</div> -<div class="line">Pursy burghers cheek by jowl,</div> -<div class="line">Archers with their peacock’s wing</div> -<div class="line">Fitting to the waxen string,</div> -<div class="line">Pedlars with their pack and bags,</div> -<div class="line">Beggars with their coloured rags,</div> -<div class="line">Silent monks, whose stony eyes</div> -<div class="line">Rest in trance upon the skies,</div> -<div class="line">Children sleeping at the breast,</div> -<div class="line">Merchants from the distant West,</div> -<div class="line">All in gay confusion went</div> -<div class="line">To the royal Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Players with the painted face</div> -<div class="line">And a drunken man’s grimace,</div> -<div class="line">Grooms who praise their raw-boned steeds,</div> -<div class="line">Old wives telling maple beads,—</div> -<div class="line">Blackbirds from the hedges broke,</div> -<div class="line">Black crows from the beeches croak,</div> -<div class="line">Glossy swallows in dismay</div> -<div class="line">From the mill-stream fled away,</div> -<div class="line">The angry swan, with ruffled breast,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_311" id="Page_311">311</a></span> -<div class="line">Frowned upon her osier nest,</div> -<div class="line">The wren hopped restless on the brake,</div> -<div class="line">The otter made the sedges shake,</div> -<div class="line">The butterfly before our rout</div> -<div class="line">Flew like a blossom blown about,</div> -<div class="line">The coloured leaves, a globe of life,</div> -<div class="line">Spun round and scattered as in strife,</div> -<div class="line">Sweeping down the narrow lane</div> -<div class="line">Like the slant shower of the rain,</div> -<div class="line">The lark in terror, from the sod,</div> -<div class="line">Flew up and straight appealed to God,</div> -<div class="line">As a noisy band we went</div> -<div class="line">Trotting to the Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But when we saw the holy town,</div> -<div class="line">With its river and its down,</div> -<div class="line">Then the drums began to beat</div> -<div class="line">And the flutes piped mellow sweet;</div> -<div class="line">Then the deep and full bassoon</div> -<div class="line">Murmured like a wood in June,</div> -<div class="line">And the fifes, so sharp and bleak,</div> -<div class="line">All at once began to speak.</div> -<div class="line">Hear the trumpets clear and loud,</div> -<div class="line">Full-tongued, eloquent and proud,</div> -<div class="line">And the dulcimer that ranges</div> -<div class="line">Through such wild and plaintive changes;</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_312" id="Page_312">312</a></span> -<div class="line">Merry sounds the jester’s shawm<a name="FNanchor_56_56" id="FNanchor_56_56"></a><a href="#Footnote_56_56" class="fnanchor">[56]</a>,</div> -<div class="line">To our gladness giving form;</div> -<div class="line">And the shepherd’s chalumeau<a name="FNanchor_57_57" id="FNanchor_57_57"></a><a href="#Footnote_57_57" class="fnanchor">[57]</a>,</div> -<div class="line">Rich and soft and sad and low;</div> -<div class="line">Hark! the bagpipes squeak and groan—</div> -<div class="line">Every herdsman has his own;</div> -<div class="line">So in measured step we went</div> -<div class="line">Pacing to the Tournament.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">All at once the chimes break out,</div> -<div class="line">Then we hear the townsmen shout,</div> -<div class="line">And the morris-dancers’ bells</div> -<div class="line">Tinkling in the grassy dells;</div> -<div class="line">The bell thunder from the tower</div> -<div class="line">Adds its sound of doom and power,</div> -<div class="line">As the cannon’s loud salute</div> -<div class="line">For a moment made us mute;</div> -<div class="line">Then again the laugh and joke</div> -<div class="line">On the startled silence broke;—</div> -<div class="line">Thus in merry mood we went</div> -<div class="line">Laughing to the Tournament.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">G. W. Thornbury.</p> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_56_56" id="Footnote_56_56"></a><a href="#FNanchor_56_56"><span class="label">[56]</span></a> <em>shawm</em>: reed pipe.</p></div> - -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_57_57" id="Footnote_57_57"></a><a href="#FNanchor_57_57"><span class="label">[57]</span></a> <em>chalumeau</em>: reed pipe.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_313" id="Page_313">313</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="VARIOUS2" id="VARIOUS2"></a>VARIOUS</h2> - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="A_Red_Red_Rose" id="A_Red_Red_Rose"></a><span class="smcap">A Red, Red Rose</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">O, my love is like a red, red rose,</div> -<div class="line indent2">That’s newly sprung in June:</div> -<div class="line">O, my love is like the melody</div> -<div class="line indent2">That’s sweetly play’d in tune.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">As fair art thou, my bonnie lass,</div> -<div class="line indent2">So deep in love am I,</div> -<div class="line">And I will love thee still, my dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Till all the seas gang<a name="FNanchor_58_58" id="FNanchor_58_58"></a><a href="#Footnote_58_58" class="fnanchor">[58]</a> dry.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Till all the seas gang dry, my dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And the rocks melt wi’ the sun!</div> -<div class="line">And I will love thee still, my dear,</div> -<div class="line indent2">While the sands o’ life shall run.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">And fare thee well, my only love,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And fare thee well a while!</div> -<div class="line">And I will come again, my love,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Tho’ it were ten thousand mile!</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Burns.</p> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_58_58" id="Footnote_58_58"></a><a href="#FNanchor_58_58"><span class="label">[58]</span></a> <em>gang</em>: go.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_314" id="Page_314">314</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="Blow_Bugle_Blow" id="Blow_Bugle_Blow"></a><span class="smcap">Blow, Bugle, Blow</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">The splendour falls on castle walls</div> -<div class="line indent4">And snowy summits old in story:</div> -<div class="line indent2">The long light shakes across the lakes,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And the wild cataract leaps in glory.</div> -<div class="line">Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,</div> -<div class="line">Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And thinner, clearer, farther going!</div> -<div class="line indent2">O sweet and far from cliff and scar<a name="FNanchor_59_59" id="FNanchor_59_59"></a><a href="#Footnote_59_59" class="fnanchor">[59]</a></div> -<div class="line indent4">The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!</div> -<div class="line">Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:</div> -<div class="line">Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">O love, they die in yon rich sky,</div> -<div class="line indent4">They faint on hill or field or river:</div> -<div class="line indent2">Our echoes roll from soul to soul,</div> -<div class="line indent6">And grow for ever and for ever.</div> -<div class="line">Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,</div> -<div class="line">And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Alfred, Lord Tennyson.</p> -<div class="footnote"> - -<p><a name="Footnote_59_59" id="Footnote_59_59"></a><a href="#FNanchor_59_59"><span class="label">[59]</span></a> <em>scar</em>: a crag, a precipice.</p></div> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_315" id="Page_315">315</a></span> -</div> - -<h3 class="title"><a name="West_and_East" id="West_and_East"></a><span class="smcap">West and East</span></h3> - -<p><em>Rome is chiefly known to young readers through the medium of -Macaulay’s spirited “Lays,” which, however, are only a re-telling, -in English ballad form, of some of the legends which survived into -historical times concerning the infant city, about which nothing -certain is known. They give no idea of the Rome of history, the -world-power, or of the brooding immensity of her influence through -centuries. This and the following poem illustrate, to some slight -extent, the later Rome.</em></p> - - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">In his cool hall, with haggard eyes,</div> -<div class="line indent2">The Roman noble lay;</div> -<div class="line">He drove abroad, in furious guise,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Along the Appian way.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">He made a feast, drank fierce and fast,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And crown’d his hair with flowers—</div> -<div class="line">No easier nor no quicker pass’d</div> -<div class="line indent2">The impracticable hours.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The brooding East with awe beheld</div> -<div class="line indent2">Her impious younger world.</div> -<div class="line">The Roman tempest swell’d and swell’d,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And on her head was hurled.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_316" id="Page_316">316</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">The East bow’d low before the blast</div> -<div class="line indent2">In patient, deep disdain;</div> -<div class="line">She let the legions thunder past,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And plunged in thought again.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Matthew Arnold.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Genseric" id="Genseric"></a><span class="smcap">Genseric</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Genseric, King of the Vandals, who, having laid waste seven lands,</div> -<div class="line">From Tripolis far as Tangier, from the sea to the great desert sands,</div> -<div class="line">Was lord of the Moor and the African,—thirsting anon for new slaughter,</div> -<div class="line">Sail’d out of Carthage, and sail’d o’er the Mediterranean water;</div> -<div class="line">Plunder’d Palermo, seiz’d Sicily, sack’d the Lucanian coast,</div> -<div class="line">And paused, and said, laughing, “Where next?”</div> -<div class="line indent10">Then there came to the Vandal a Ghost</div> -<div class="line">From the Shadowy Land that lies hid and unknown in the Darkness Below.</div> -<div class="line">And answered, “To Rome!”</div> -<div class="line indent10">Said the King to the Ghost, “And whose envoy art thou?</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_317" id="Page_317">317</a></span> -<div class="line">Whence com’st thou? and name me his name that hath sent thee: and say what is thine.”</div> -<div class="line">“From far: and His name that hath sent me is God,” the Ghost answered, “and mine</div> -<div class="line">Was Hannibal once, ere thou wast: and the name that I now have is Fate.</div> -<div class="line">But arise, and be swift, and return. For God waits, and the moment is late.”</div> -<div class="line">And, “I go,” said the Vandal. And went. When at last to the gates he was come,</div> -<div class="line">Loud he knock’d with his fierce iron fist. And full drowsily answer’d him Rome.</div> -<div class="line">“Who is it that knocketh so loud? Get thee hence. Let me be. For ’tis late.”</div> -<div class="line">“Thou art wanted,” cried Genseric. “Open! His name that hath sent me is Fate,</div> -<div class="line">And mine, who knock late, Retribution.”</div> -<div class="line indent10">Rome gave him her glorious things;</div> -<div class="line">The keys she had conquer’d from kingdoms: the crowns she had wrested from kings:</div> -<div class="line">And Genseric bore them away into Carthage, avenged thus on Rome,</div> -<div class="line">And paused, and said, laughing, “Where next?”</div> -<div class="line indent10">And again the Ghost answer’d him, “Home!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_318" id="Page_318">318</a></span> -<div class="line">For now God doth need thee no longer.”</div> -<div class="line indent10">“Where leadest thou me by the hand?”</div> -<div class="line">Cried the King to the Ghost. And the Ghost answer’d, “Into the Shadowy Land.”</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Owen Meredith.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Kubla_Khan" id="Kubla_Khan"></a><span class="smcap">Kubla Khan</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">In Xanadu did Kubla Khan</div> -<div class="line indent4">A stately pleasure-dome decree:</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where Alph, the sacred river, ran</div> -<div class="line indent2">Through caverns measureless to man</div> -<div class="line indent4">Down to a sunless sea.</div> -<div class="line indent2">So twice five miles of fertile ground</div> -<div class="line indent2">With walls and towers were girdled round:</div> -<div class="line">And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills</div> -<div class="line">Where blossom’d many an incense-bearing tree;</div> -<div class="line">And here were forests ancient as the hills,</div> -<div class="line">Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.</div> -<div class="line">But O, that deep romantic chasm which slanted</div> -<div class="line">Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!</div> -<div class="line">A savage place! as holy and enchanted</div> -<div class="line">As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted</div> -<div class="line">By woman wailing for her demon-lover!</div> -<div class="line">And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething,</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_319" id="Page_319">319</a></span> -<div class="line">As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,</div> -<div class="line">A mighty fountain momently was forced;</div> -<div class="line">Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst</div> -<div class="line">Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,</div> -<div class="line">Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail:</div> -<div class="line">And ’mid these dancing rocks at once and ever</div> -<div class="line">It flung up momently the sacred river.</div> -<div class="line">Five miles meandering with a mazy motion</div> -<div class="line">Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,</div> -<div class="line">Then reached the caverns measureless to man,</div> -<div class="line">And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:</div> -<div class="line">And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far</div> -<div class="line">Ancestral voices prophesying war!</div> -<div class="line indent2">The shadow of the dome of pleasure</div> -<div class="line indent4">Floated midway on the waves;</div> -<div class="line indent2">Where was heard the mingled measure</div> -<div class="line indent4">From the fountain and the caves.</div> -<div class="line">It was a miracle of rare device,</div> -<div class="line">A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line indent2">A damsel with a dulcimer</div> -<div class="line indent4">In a vision once I saw:</div> -<div class="line indent2">It was an Abyssinian maid,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And on her dulcimer she play’d,</div> -<div class="line indent2">Singing of Mount Abora.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_320" id="Page_320">320</a></span> -<div class="line indent2">Could I revive within me</div> -<div class="line indent2">Her symphony and song,</div> -<div class="line">To such a deep delight ’twould win me</div> -<div class="line">That with music loud and long,</div> -<div class="line">I would build that dome in air,</div> -<div class="line">That sunny dome! those caves of ice!</div> -<div class="line">And all who heard should see them there,</div> -<div class="line">And all should cry, Beware! Beware!</div> -<div class="line">His flashing eyes, his floating hair!</div> -<div class="line">Weave a circle round him thrice,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And close your eyes with holy dread,</div> -<div class="line indent2">For he on honey-dew hath fed,</div> -<div class="line">And drunk the milk of Paradise.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Samuel Taylor Coleridge.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Something_to_Remember" id="Something_to_Remember"></a><span class="smcap">Something to Remember</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ah, did you once see Shelley plain,</div> -<div class="line indent2">And did he stop and speak to you,</div> -<div class="line">And did you speak to him again?</div> -<div class="line indent2">How strange it seems, and new!</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">But you were living before that.</div> -<div class="line indent2">And also you are living after,</div> -<div class="line">And the memory I started at—</div> -<div class="line indent2">My starting moves your laughter!</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_321" id="Page_321">321</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">I crossed a moor, with a name of its own</div> -<div class="line indent2">And a certain use in the world, no doubt,</div> -<div class="line">Yet a hand’s-breadth of it shines alone</div> -<div class="line indent2">’Mid the blank miles round about:</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">For there I picked up on the heather</div> -<div class="line indent2">And there I put inside my breast</div> -<div class="line">A moulted feather, an eagle-feather!</div> -<div class="line indent2">Well, I forget the rest.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Robert Browning.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<h3 class="title"><a name="Ring_Out_Wild_Bells" id="Ring_Out_Wild_Bells"></a><span class="smcap">Ring Out, Wild Bells</span></h3> -</div> - -<div class="poetry-container"> -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ring out, wild bells, to the wild sky,</div> -<div class="line indent4">The flying cloud, the frosty light:</div> -<div class="line indent4">The year is dying in the night;</div> -<div class="line">Ring out wild bells, and let him die.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ring out the old, ring in the new,</div> -<div class="line indent4">Ring, happy bells, across the snow:</div> -<div class="line indent4">The year is going, let him go;</div> -<div class="line">Ring out the false, ring in the true.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ring out the grief that saps the mind,</div> -<div class="line indent4">For those that here we see no more;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Ring out the feud of rich and poor,</div> -<div class="line">Ring in redress to all mankind.</div><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_322" id="Page_322">322</a></span> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ring out a slowly dying cause,</div> -<div class="line indent4">And ancient forms of party strife;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Ring in the nobler modes of life,</div> -<div class="line">With sweeter manners, purer laws.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ring out the want, the care, the sin,</div> -<div class="line indent4">The faithless coldness of the times;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Ring out, ring out my mournful rhymes,</div> -<div class="line">But ring the fuller minstrel in.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ring out false pride in place and blood,</div> -<div class="line indent4">The civic slander and the spite;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Ring in the love of truth and right,</div> -<div class="line">Ring in the common love of good.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ring out old shapes of foul disease;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Ring out the narrowing lust of gold;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Ring out the thousand wars of old,</div> -<div class="line">Ring in the thousand years of peace.</div> -</div> -<div class="verse"> -<div class="line">Ring in the valiant man and free,</div> -<div class="line indent4">The larger heart, the kindlier hand;</div> -<div class="line indent4">Ring out the darkness of the land,</div> -<div class="line">Ring in the Christ that is to be.</div> -</div></div></div> - -<p class="right smcap">Alfred, Lord Tennyson.</p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_323" id="Page_323">323</a></span> -</div> - -<h2><a name="INDEX_OF_AUTHORS2" id="INDEX_OF_AUTHORS2"></a>INDEX OF AUTHORS</h2> - -<table summary="Index of Authors"> -<tr> -<td> </td> -<td class="tdr"><small>PAGE</small></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Anonymous,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_228">228</a>, <a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_234">234</a>, <a href="#Page_236">236</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Arnold, Matthew,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_265">265</a>, <a href="#Page_315">315</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Beddoes, Thomas Lovell,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Browning, Elizabeth Barrett,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Browning, Robert,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_219">219</a>, <a href="#Page_220">220</a>, <a href="#Page_254">254</a>, <a href="#Page_303">303</a>, <a href="#Page_320">320</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Burns, Robert,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Byron, Lord,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_239">239</a>, <a href="#Page_243">243</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Campbell, Thomas,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Clough, Arthur Hugh,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Coleridge, Samuel Taylor,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_318">318</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Collins, William,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Crashaw, Richard,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Herrick, Robert,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Hovey, Richard,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Howe, Julia Ward,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Hunt, Leigh,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ingelow, Jean,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Jonson, Ben,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Keats, John,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Kingsley, Charles,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_231">231</a>, <a href="#Page_278">278</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_226">226</a>, <a href="#Page_272">272</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_324" id="Page_324">324</a></span> -Lovelace, Richard,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Meredith, Owen,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Miller, Joaquin,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Roberts, Theodore,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Scott, Sir Walter,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_249">249</a>, <a href="#Page_253">253</a>, <a href="#Page_279">279</a>, <a href="#Page_304">304</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Shakespeare, William,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_230">230</a>, <a href="#Page_301">301</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Shelley, Percy Bysshe,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_29">29</a>, <a href="#Page_213">213</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Tennyson, Alfred, Lord,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_222">222</a>, <a href="#Page_258">258</a>, <a href="#Page_314">314</a>, <a href="#Page_321">321</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Thornbury, G. W.,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_305">305</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Wolfe, Charles,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Wordsworth, William,</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_224">224</a>, <a href="#Page_300">300</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_325" id="Page_325">325</a></span> -</div> -<h2><a name="INDEX_OF_FIRST_LINES2" id="INDEX_OF_FIRST_LINES2"></a>INDEX OF FIRST LINES</h2> - -<table summary="Index of First Lines"> -<tr> -<td> </td> -<td class="right"><small>PAGE</small></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">A lofty ship from Salcombe came</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_234">234</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_277">277</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ah, did you once see Shelley plain</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_320">320</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ah! what pleasant visions haunt me</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">“All honour to him who shall win the prize”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_256">256</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Angels, thy old friends, there shall greet thee</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_302">302</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">At the corner of Wood Street, when daylight appears</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_300">300</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ay, Oliver! I was but seven, and he was eleven</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_292">292</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - -<td class="tdl">Come, dear children, let us away</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_265">265</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - -<td class="tdl">Full fathom five thy father lies</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Genseric, King of the Vandals, who, having laid waste seven lands</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_316">316</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">“Hadst thou stayed, I must have fled”</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_272">272</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Hail to thee, blithe spirit</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_213">213</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Here’s the tender coming</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_230">230</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">How sleep the brave, who sink to rest</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_252">252</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> - -<td class="tdl">I am fever’d with the sunset</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I come from haunts of coot and hern</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_222">222</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">I’d like now, yet had haply been afraid</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_303">303</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">If there were dreams to sell</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_283">283</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">In his cool hall, with haggard eyes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_315">315</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">In the pleasant orchard closes</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_284">284</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">In Xanadu did Kubla Khan</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_318">318</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">It was roses, roses, all the way</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_254">254</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_247">247</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Nobly, nobly Cape St Vincent to the North-west died away</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_220">220</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Not a drum was heard, not a funeral note</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_250">250</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl"><span class="pagenum"><a name="Page_326" id="Page_326">326</a></span> -Oh England is a pleasant place for them that’s rich and high</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_231">231</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O for the voice of that wild horn</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_249">249</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O Mary, go and call the cattle home</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_278">278</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O, my love is like a red, red rose</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_313">313</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O my true love’s a smuggler and sails upon the sea</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_236">236</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O, to be in England</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_219">219</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O wild West Wind, thou breath of Autumn’s being</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_229">229</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">O young Lochinvar is come out of the West</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_279">279</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Often I think of the beautiful town</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_226">226</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">On either side the river lie</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_258">258</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Over meadows purple-flowered</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_305">305</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Queen and huntress, chaste and fair</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_218">218</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ring out wild bells to the wild sky</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_321">321</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Say not the struggle nought availeth</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_257">257</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Season of mists and mellow fruitfulness</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_227">227</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Simon Danz has come home again</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_253">253</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Tell me not, Sweet, I am unkind</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_248">248</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Tell me where is Fancy bred</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_301">301</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The isles of Greece! the isles of Greece!</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_243">243</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">The splendour falls on castle walls</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_314">314</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">There was a sound of revelry by night</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_239">239</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_224">224</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Thunder of riotous hoofs over the quaking sod</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_237">237</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">’Twas in the good ship <em>Rover</em></td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_228">228</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Waken, lords and ladies gay</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_304">304</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ye have been fresh and green</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> -</tr> -<tr> -<td class="tdl">Ye Mariners of England</td> -<td class="tdr"><a href="#Page_221">221</a></td> -</tr> -</table> - -<hr class="divider" /> -<p class="center"><small>CAMBRIDGE: PRINTED BY JOHN CLAY, M.A. AT THE UNIVERSITY PRESS.</small></p> - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> - -<h2><a name="Books_on_English_Language_and_Literature" id="Books_on_English_Language_and_Literature"></a>Books on English Language and Literature</h2> - -<p class="center"><small><strong>published by the</strong></small><br /><br /> -<span class="p120"><strong>Cambridge University Press</strong></span></p> - - -<h3>ENGLISH LANGUAGE</h3> - - -<p class="hang"><strong>English Grammar:</strong> Descriptive and Historical. 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Text only, without introduction -and notes, 9<em>d.</em> net.</p> - -<p class="hang"><strong>A Book of English Poetry for the Young.</strong> Arranged for -Preparatory and Elementary Schools by <span class="smcap">W. H. Woodward</span>. -1<em>s.</em> net.</p> - -<p class="hang"><strong>A Second Book of English Poetry for the Young.</strong> Arranged -for Secondary and High Schools by <span class="smcap">W. H. Woodward</span>. 1<em>s.</em> -net.</p> - - - - -<div class="chapter"> -<hr class="divider" /> -</div> -<div class="tn"> -<p class="center p120"><a name="Transcribers_Note" id="Transcribers_Note"></a>Transcriber’s Note:</p> - -<p class="noi">Spelling, word usage an punctuation have been retained as in the -original publication, except as follows:</p> - - -<p class="noi">PART I</p> -<ul class="nobullet"> -<li>Page 91</li> -<li><ul class="nobullet"> -<li>Who alway by Lars Porsena<br /><em>changed to</em><br /> - Who <a href="#always">always</a> by Lars Porsena</li></ul></li> -<li>Page 104</li> -<li><ul class="nobullet"><li>So fierce a thrust he sped<br /><em>changed to</em><br /> - So fierce a thrust he <a href="#sped">sped,</a></li></ul></li> -</ul> -<p class="noi">PART II</p> -<ul class="nobullet"> -<li>Page 81</li> -<li><ul class="nobullet"> -<li>more lovely by far.<br /><em>changed to</em><br /> - more lovely by <a href="#far">far,</a></li></ul></li> -</ul> -</div> - - - - - - - -<pre> - - - - - -End of the Project Gutenberg EBook of The Cambridge Book of Poetry for -Children, by Various - -*** END OF THIS PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK CAMBRIDGE BOOK POETRY CHILDREN *** - -***** This file should be named 50994-h.htm or 50994-h.zip ***** -This and all associated files of various formats will be found in: - http://www.gutenberg.org/5/0/9/9/50994/ - -Produced by The Online Distributed Proofreading Team at -http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images -generously made available by The Internet Archive/American -Libraries.) - -Updated editions will replace the previous one--the old editions will -be renamed. - -Creating the works from print editions not protected by U.S. copyright -law means that no one owns a United States copyright in these works, -so the Foundation (and you!) can copy and distribute it in the United -States without permission and without paying copyright -royalties. 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