diff options
121 files changed, 17 insertions, 13422 deletions
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..702e0dc --- /dev/null +++ b/README.md @@ -0,0 +1,2 @@ +Project Gutenberg (https://www.gutenberg.org) public repository for +eBook #67522 (https://www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/67522) diff --git a/old/67522-0.txt b/old/67522-0.txt deleted file mode 100644 index 55abd21..0000000 --- a/old/67522-0.txt +++ /dev/null @@ -1,6303 +0,0 @@ -The Project Gutenberg eBook of Rainbow gold; poems old and new -selected for boys and girls, by Sara Teasdale - -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 -will have to check the laws of the country where you are located before -using this eBook. - -Title: Rainbow gold; poems old and new selected for boys and girls - -Illustrator: Dugald Walker - -Compiler: Sara Teasdale - -Release Date: February 28, 2022 [eBook #67522] - -Language: English - -Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed - Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was - produced from images generously made available by The - Internet Archive/American Libraries.) - -*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAINBOW GOLD; POEMS OLD AND -NEW SELECTED FOR BOYS AND GIRLS *** - - - - - - RAINBOW GOLD - - [Illustration] - - - - - [Illustration] - - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS - ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO - - MACMILLAN & CO., LIMITED - LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA - MELBOURNE - - THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, LTD. - TORONTO - - [Illustration] - - - - - RAINBOW GOLD - - POEMS OLD AND NEW - SELECTED FOR BOYS AND GIRLS - - BY SARA TEASDALE - - WITH ILLUSTRATIONS - - BY DUGALD WALKER - - [Illustration] - - - NEW YORK - THE MACMILLAN COMPANY - 1922 - - _All rights reserved_ - - - - - Printed in the United States of America - - - COPYRIGHT, 1922, - BY THE MACMILLAN CO. - - Set up and published September, 1922 - - - CONDÉ NAST PRESS GREENWICH, CONN. - - - - - TO THE BEAUTIFUL MEMORY - OF MY FATHER - JOHN WARREN TEASDALE - - [Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - - - - PREFATORY NOTE - - -Every anthologist must adopt some plan for making selections. Mine has -been very simple. I have made a small collection of poems that would -have pleased the child I used to be and the boy who was my playmate. -Above all things I have striven to keep the book small, for the big -books of poetry on our shelves were always left to themselves. It was -the little books that became our intimate companions. - -To make a selection for boys and girls from the countless riches of -lyric poetry in our language, and to reduce that selection to the -contents of so small a book as this one, is a grave task. It involves -the exclusion on the grounds of mere lack of space, of so much that one -loves. I should have liked to make a book of this size containing only -Elizabethan songs and early English ballads, another entirely devoted to -Georgian and Victorian poets, a third to living writers, and a fourth to -child-rhymes, parodies, nonsense verses and the like. If the grown-up -reader regrets omissions, I beg him to be sympathetic toward the -compiler, who has been a prey to those same regrets constantly during -the year in which she has been at work on the book. Alas that a volume -cannot have the advantages of being both a big book and a little one at -the same time! - -In selecting the poems for the girl and boy who used to be, I have tried -always to read with their eyes. I have been guided from first to last by -their enjoyment or their boredom. The poems that they loved best had -highly accented rhythms, and took them into “a land of clear colors and -stories.” They enjoyed certain sad poems as much as merry ones, but -meditative, moralistic and gloomy poems were never read but once, if -they were read at all. And I am glad to say that poems full of -sentimentality fared no better. I have brought together much that has -been written since they were children, and boys and girls of to-day will -find among these poems many of the most enjoyable things in the book. To -mention only one recent poet that they would have loved, Walter de la -Mare, is to realize how much a child has missed who does not possess his -inimitable “Peacock Pie.” - -A child’s enjoyment, as I said above, is what I have striven for in this -collection. We who have seen how poetry has come to our rescue with its -delight, its healing, and its new courage in times of stress and sorrow, -know that it is an inestimable possession. We cannot come to the -knowledge of it too early. If we can have a clear personal realization -while we are children, that we love poetry, no amount of well-meaning -but sometimes tactless and uninspired teaching of it in schools and -colleges can shake us in the knowledge of that love. I remember that the -first poem I was condemned to learn by heart in school was “The -Builders” by Longfellow. I say condemned, but it was not as a -punishment. Every child in the class had to learn it. It is one of the -poems that I am sure the poet himself would never have given to a child -to learn, beginning, as grown-up readers will remember: - -“All are Architects of Fate - Working in these walls of Time.” - -After committing the nine stanzas of this poem to memory, it took me a -long time to grow willing to read the stirring things that the same poet -has written, poems as interesting as this one is humdrum. - -But education is better managed now than then. Teachers and parents -alike have come to feel that the love of poetry in general is more to be -desired for children than the knowledge of certain “well known” poems, -no matter how good, or even how great, these poems may be. Besides a -more tactfully managed education in the schools, there are children’s -rooms in the public libraries. I have wished many times during the -months spent in making this book, when visits to these rooms were an -inspiration, that I might have browsed among the low shelves long ago in -childhood, and talked with the same delightful librarians. I should like -to express my thanks to these librarians, who have been so kind in -various ways. I want especially to thank Annie Carroll Moore, -Supervisor of Work with Children in the New York Public Library, who -knows the heart of a child from long travelling on “The Roads to -Childhood.” - -In closing I shall quote briefly from the introduction by Andrew Lang to -his anthology for children, “The Blue Poetry Book,” for he speaks my own -thoughts better than I can express them: “It does not appear to the -Editor that poems about children, or especially intended for children, -are those which a child likes best. A child’s imaginative life is spent -in the unknown future, and in the romantic past.... The poems written -for and about children rather appeal to the old, whose own childhood is -now to them a distant fairy world, as the man’s life is to the child.... -We make a mistake when we ‘write down’ to children; still more do we err -when we tell a child not to read this or that because he cannot -understand it. He understands far more than we give him credit for, but -nothing that can harm him. The half-understanding of it, too, the sense -of a margin beyond, as in a wood full of unknown glades and birds and -flowers unfamiliar, is a great part of a child’s pleasure in reading.... -The child does not want everything to be explained. In the unexplained -is great pleasure.” - -A number of my friends have been kind in giving me the names of poems -that they liked best when they were children. The small compass of the -book has made it impossible to use all of the poems suggested in this -way, but it has been a pleasure to include as many of them as I could. I -want to acknowledge very gratefully my indebtedness for counsel and -suggestions to John Gould Fletcher, Vachel Lindsay, Amy Lowell, Jessie -B. Rittenhouse, Louis Untermeyer, Jean Untermeyer, John Hall Wheelock -and Marguerite Wilkinson. - - SARA TEASDALE - -_New York City, 1922_ - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - - - -ACKNOWLEDGMENTS - - -Thanks are due the following publishers for permission to include the -poems enumerated below: - - To Messrs. Constable & Co., for “Berries,” “Jim Jay,” and “Off the - Ground,” by Walter de la Mare. - - To Messrs. Doubleday, Page & Co., for “A Prayer,” by Edwin Markham, - and “O Captain! My Captain,” by Walt Whitman. - - To Messrs. Harper & Brothers for “When the Hounds of Spring,” by - Algernon Charles Swinburne. - - To Messrs. Henry Holt & Co., for “Good Hours,” by Robert Frost; and - “Berries,” “Jim Jay” and “Off the Ground” from “Peacock Pie,” by - Walter de la Mare. - - To Messrs. Houghton Mifflin Co., by whose permission and by special - arrangement with whom the following poems are included: “Fable,” by - Ralph Waldo Emerson; “The Fountain,” by James Russell Lowell; “My - Lost Youth,” and “The Skeleton in Armor,” by Henry Wadsworth - Longfellow; and “A Song for My Mother,” by Anna Hempstead Branch. - - To Mr. Alfred Knopf for “Nature’s Friend,” by William H. Davies. - - To Messrs. Little, Brown & Co., for “The Snow,” by Emily Dickinson. - - To The Macmillan Co., for “The Fairies,” and “The Lepracaun,” by - William Allingham; “The Forsaken Merman,” by Matthew Arnold; “The - Pied Piper of Hamelin,” and “Song: The Year’s at the Spring,” by - Robert Browning; “The Terrible Robber Men,” by Padraic Colum; “Moon - Folly,” by Fannie Stearns Gifford; “Time, You Old Gipsy Man,” by - Ralph Hodgson; “Sea Fever,” by John Masefield; “A Christmas - Carol,” by Christina Rossetti; “The Song of Wandering Aengus,” by - William Butler Yeats; and “The Ghosts of the Buffaloes,” by Vachel - Lindsay. - - To Messrs. Macmillan & Co., for “The Fairies,” and “The Lepracaun,” - by William Allingham; “The Forsaken Merman,” by Matthew Arnold; and - “A Christmas Carol,” by Christina Rossetti. - - To The Poetry Bookshop for “Star-Talk,” by Robert Graves. - - To Messrs. Charles Scribner’s Sons for “Song of the Chattahoochee,” - by Sidney Lanier from “Poems of Sidney Lanier”; copyright 1884, - 1891, 1918 by Mary D. Lanier, by permission of the publishers; and - “Escape at Bedtime,” and “Romance,” by Robert Louis Stevenson. - - To Messrs. Frederick A. Stokes Co., for “Tree-Toad,” by Hilda - Conkling; and “A Song of Sherwood,” by Alfred Noyes, from his - Collected Poems, Volume I. - -To the living poets who have generously allowed their poems to appear in -this book, the compiler expresses grateful thanks. - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - - - -CONTENTS - - PAGE - -KUBLA KHAN _Samuel Taylor Coleridge_ 19 - -MEG MERRILIES _John Keats_ 22 - -BERRIES _Walter de la Mare_ 24 - -ROMANCE _Robert Louis Stevenson_ 28 - -HYMN OF PAN _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 29 - -WRITTEN IN MARCH _William Wordsworth_ 31 - -“WHEN THE HOUNDS OF SPRING” _Algernon Charles Swinburne_ 32 - -SONG _Robert Browning_ 36 - -“UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE” _William Shakespeare_ 37 - -TO VIOLETS _Robert Herrick_ 38 - -ON MAY MORNING _John Milton_ 39 - -THE LEPRACAUN _William Allingham_ 40 - -HUNTING SONG _Sir Walter Scott_ 44 - -THE LADY OF SHALOTT _Alfred Tennyson_ 46 - -HYMN TO DIANA _Ben Jonson_ 59 - -THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS _William Butler Yeats_ 60 - -THE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE _Christopher Marlowe_ 62 - -ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER _Author Unknown_ 64 - -A SEA SONG _Allan Cunningham_ 72 - -EPITAPH ON A HARE _William Cowper_ 73 - -THE PILGRIM _John Bunyan_ 76 - -LULLABY FOR TITANIA _William Shakespeare_ 78 - -ISRAFEL _Edgar Allan Poe_ 82 - -JAFFÁR _Leigh Hunt_ 87 - -A SONG OF SHERWOOD _Alfred Noyes_ 89 - -THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB _Lord Byron_ 92 - -IVRY _Thomas Babington Macaulay_ 94 - -THE TIGER _William Blake_ 98 - -THE TERRIBLE ROBBER MEN _Padraic Colum_ 100 - -SIR PATRICK SPENS _Author Unknown_ 101 - -“BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND” _William Shakespeare_ 108 - -THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN _Robert Browning_ 109 - -“TIME, YOU OLD GIPSY MAN” _Ralph Hodgson_ 124 - -THE SOLITARY REAPER _William Wordsworth_ 128 - -MY LOST YOUTH _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 130 - -BATTLE HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC _Julia Ward Howe_ 133 - -GATHERING SONG OF DONALD DHU _Sir Walter Scott_ 135 - -THE MINSTREL-BOY _Thomas Moore_ 137 - -BANNOCKBURN _Robert Burns_ 138 - -FABLE _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 140 - -GOOD HOURS _Robert Frost_ 141 - -WINTER _William Shakespeare_ 142 - -A CHANTED CALENDAR _Sydney Dobell_ 143 - -THE CLOUD _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 145 - -BUGLE SONG _Alfred Tennyson_ 151 - -THE FORSAKEN MERMAN _Matthew Arnold_ 152 - -NURSE’S SONG _William Blake_ 158 - -TO A MOUSE _Robert Burns_ 159 - -THE FAIRIES _William Allingham_ 162 - -LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI _John Keats_ 168 - -SPRING _Thomas Nashe_ 175 - -“I WANDERED LONELY” _William Wordsworth_ 176 - -THE GAY GOS-HAWK _Author Unknown_ 178 - -AN OLD SONG OF FAIRIES _Author Unknown_ 186 - -MOON FOLLY _Fannie Stearns Gifford_ 189 - -STAR-TALK _Robert Graves_ 193 - -JIM JAY _Walter de la Mare_ 197 - -THE GHOSTS OF THE BUFFALOES _Vachel Lindsay_ 199 - -A CHRISTMAS CAROL _Christina Rossetti_ 203 - -ESCAPE AT BEDTIME _Robert Louis Stevenson_ 205 - -SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE _Sidney Lanier_ 206 - -SEA FEVER _John Masefield_ 211 - -O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN! _Walt Whitman_ 212 - -THE SNOW _Emily Dickinson_ 214 - -A SONG FOR MY MOTHER _Anna Hempstead Branch_ 215 - -THE FOUNTAIN _James Russell Lowell_ 217 - -NATURE’S FRIEND _William H. Davies_ 221 - -TREE-TOAD _Hilda Conkling_ 223 - -AN ANCIENT CHRISTMAS CAROL _Author Unknown_ 225 - -AN OLD CHRISTMAS CAROL _Author Unknown_ 226 - -KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF -CANTERBURY _Author Unknown_ 228 - -THE SANDS OF DEE _Charles Kingsley_ 234 - -SISTER, AWAKE! _Author Unknown_ 236 - -THE SKELETON IN ARMOR _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 237 - -BY BENDEMEER’S STREAM _Thomas Moore_ 244 - -A PRAYER _Edwin Markham_ 245 - -YOUNG LOCHINVAR _Sir Walter Scott_ 246 - -OFF THE GROUND _Walter de la Mare_ 249 - -AULD DADDY DARKNESS _James Ferguson_ 256 - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - -[Illustration] - - - - -ILLUSTRATIONS - - -KUBLA KHAN _Samuel Taylor Coleridge_ Frontispiece - -“WHEN THE HOUNDS OF SPRING” _Algernon Charles Swinburne_ 33 - -THE LADY OF SHALOTT _Alfred Tennyson_ 51 - -HYMN TO DIANA _Ben Jonson_ 58 - -ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER _Author Unknown_ 69 - -LULLABY FOR TITANIA _William Shakespeare_ 79 - -ISRAFEL _Edgar Allan Poe_ 83 - -SIR PATRICK SPENS _Author Unknown_ 105 - -“TIME, YOU OLD GIPSY MAN” _Ralph Hodgson_ 125 - -THE CLOUD _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 147 - -THE FAIRIES _William Allingham_ 165 - -LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI _John Keats_ 169 - -SPRING _Thomas Nashe_ 174 - -MOON FOLLY _Fannie Stearns Gifford_ 191 - -STAR-TALK _Robert Graves_ 195 - -SEA FEVER _John Masefield_ 210 - -THE FOUNTAIN _James Russell Lowell_ 219 - -OFF THE GROUND _Walter de la Mare_ 251 - -[Illustration] - - - - KUBLA KHAN - - _A Vision in a Dream_ - - - 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 oh! 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 reach’d 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 played, - 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_ - - [Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - - - - MEG MERRILIES - - - Old Meg she was a Gipsy, - And liv’d upon the Moors: - Her bed it was the brown heath turf, - And her house was out of doors. - - Her apples were swart blackberries, - Her currants pods o’ broom; - Her wine was dew of the wild white rose, - Her book a churchyard tomb. - - Her Brothers were the craggy hills, - Her Sisters larchen trees-- - Alone with her great family - She liv’d as she did please. - - No breakfast had she many a morn, - No dinner many a noon, - And ’stead of supper she would stare - Full hard against the Moon. - - But every morn of woodbine fresh - She made her garlanding, - And every night the dark glen Yew - She wove, and she would sing. - - And with her fingers old and brown - She plaited Mats o’ Rushes, - And gave them to the Cottagers - She met among the Bushes. - - Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen - And tall as Amazon: - An old red blanket cloak she wore; - A chip hat had she on. - God rest her aged bones somewhere-- - She died full long agone!--_John Keats_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - BERRIES - - - There was an old woman - Went blackberry picking - Along the hedges - From Weep to Wicking. - Half a pottle-- - No more she had got, - When out steps a Fairy - From her green grot; - And says, “Well, Jill, - Would ’ee pick ’ee mo?” - And Jill, she curtseys, - And looks just so. - “Be off,” says the Fairy, - “As quick as you can, - Over the meadows - To the little green lane, - That dips to the hayfields - Of Farmer Grimes: - I’ve berried those hedges - A score of times; - Bushel on bushel - I’ll promise ’ee, Jill, - This side of supper - If ’ee pick with a will.” - She glints very bright, - And speaks her fair; - Then lo, and behold! - She has faded in air. - - Be sure old Goodie - She trots betimes - Over the meadows - To Farmer Grimes. - And never was queen - With jewellery rich - As those same hedges - From twig to ditch; - Like Dutchmen’s coffers, - Fruit, thorn, and flower-- - They shone like William - And Mary’s bower. - And be sure Old Goodie - Went back to Weep, - So tired with her basket - She scarce could creep. - When she comes in the dusk - To her cottage door, - There’s Towser wagging - As never before, - To see his Missus - So glad to be - Come from her fruit-picking - Back to he. - - [Illustration] - - And soon as next morning - Dawn was grey, - The pot on the hob - Was simmering away; - And all in a stew - And a hugger-mugger - Towser and Jill - A-boiling of sugar, - And the dark clear fruit - That from Faërie came, - For syrup and jelly - And blackberry jam. - - Twelve jolly gallipots - Jill put by; - And one little teeny one, - One inch high; - And that she’s hidden - A good thumb deep, - Half way over - From Wicking to Weep. - - _Walter de la Mare_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - ROMANCE - - - I will make you brooches and toys for your delight - Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night. - I will make a palace fit for you and me, - Of green days in forests and blue days at sea. - - I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room, - Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom, - And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white - In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night. - - And this shall be for music when no one else is near - The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear! - That only I remember, that only you admire, - Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire. - - _Robert Louis Stevenson_ - - [Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - - - - HYMN OF PAN - - - From the forests and highlands - We come, we come; - From the river-girt islands, - Where loud waves are dumb, - Listening to my sweet pipings. - The wind in the reeds and the rushes, - The bees on the bells of thyme, - The birds on the myrtle bushes, - The cicale above in the lime, - And the lizards below in the grass, - Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was, - Listening to my sweet pipings. - - Liquid Penëus was flowing, - And all dark Tempe lay - In Pelion’s shadow outgrowing - The light of the dying day, - Speeded by my sweet pipings. - The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns, - And the Nymphs of the woods and waves, - To the edge of the moist river-lawns, - And the brink of the dewy caves, - And all that did then attend and follow, - Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo, - With envy of my sweet pipings. - - I sang of the dancing Stars, - I sang of the daedal Earth, - And of Heaven, and the giant wars, - And Love, and Death, and Birth. - And then I changed my pipings-- - Singing how down the vale of Maenalus - I pursued a maiden, and clasped a reed: - Gods and men, we are all deluded thus; - It breaks in our bosom, and then we bleed. - All wept--as I think both ye now would, - If envy or age had not frozen your blood, - At the sorrow of my sweet pipings. - - _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - WRITTEN IN 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 ploughboy 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_ - - - - - “WHEN THE HOUNDS OF SPRING” - - - When the hounds of spring are on winter’s traces, - The mother of months in meadow or plain - Fills the shadows and windy places - With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain; - And the brown bright nightingale amorous - Is half assuaged for Itylus, - For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces, - The tongueless vigil, and all the pain. - - Come with bows bent and with emptying of quivers, - Maiden most perfect, lady of light, - With a noise of winds and many rivers, - With a clamor of waters, and with might; - Bind on thy sandals, O thou most fleet, - Over the splendor and speed of thy feet; - For the faint east quickens, the wan west shivers, - Round the feet of the day and the feet of the night. - - Where shall we find her, how shall we sing to her, - Fold our hands round her knees, and cling? - O that man’s heart were as fire and could spring to her, - Fire, or the strength of the streams that spring! - For the stars and the winds are unto her - As raiment, as songs of the harp-player; - For the risen stars and the fallen cling to her, - And the southwest-wind and the west-wind sing. - - [Illustration] - - - For winter’s rains and ruins are over, - And all the season of snows and sins; - The days dividing lover and lover, - The light that loses, the night that wins; - And time remembered is grief forgotten, - And frosts are slain and flowers begotten, - And in green underwood and cover - Blossom by blossom the spring begins.... - - _Algernon Charles Swinburne_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - SONG - - - The year’s at the spring, - And day’s at the morn; - Morning’s at seven; - The hill-side’s dew-pearled; - The lark’s on the wing; - The snail’s on the thorn; - God’s in His Heaven-- - All’s right with the world! - - _Robert Browning_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - “UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE” - - - Under the greenwood tree, - Who loves to lie with me, - And turn 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 i’ the sun, - Seeking the food he eats, - And pleased with what he gets, - Come hither, come hither, come hither: - Here shall he see - No enemy - But winter and rough weather. - - _William Shakespeare_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - TO VIOLETS - - - Welcome, maids of honor, - You do bring - In the Spring, - And wait upon her. - She has virgins many, - Fresh and fair; - Yet you are - More sweet than any. - - You’re the maiden posies, - And, so graced, - To be placed - ’Fore damask roses. - Yet, though thus respected, - By and by - Ye do lie, - Poor girls, neglected. - - _Robert Herrick_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - ON MAY MORNING - - - Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger, - Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her - The flow’ry May, who from her green lap throws - The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose. - Hail, bounteous May, that doth inspire - Mirth and youth and warm desire! - Woods and groves are of thy dressing, - Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. - Thus we salute thee with our early song, - And welcome thee, and wish thee long. - - _John Milton_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE LEPRACAUN OR FAIRY SHOEMAKER - - [Illustration] - - - Little Cowboy, what have you heard, - Up on the lonely rath’s green mound? - Only the plaintive yellow bird - Sighing in sultry fields around, - Chary, chary, chary, chee-ee!-- - Only the grasshopper and the bee?-- - “Tip-tap, rip-rap, - Tick-a-tack-too! - Scarlet leather, sewn together, - This will make a shoe. - Left, right, pull it tight; - Summer days are warm; - Underground in winter, - Laughing at the storm!” - Lay your ear close to the hill. - Do you not catch the tiny clamour, - Busy click of elfin hammer, - Voice of the Lepracaun singing shrill - As he merrily plies his trade? - He’s a span - And a quarter in height. - Get him in sight, hold him tight, - And you’re a made - Man! - - [Illustration] - - You watch your cattle the summer day, - Sup on potatoes, sleep in the hay; - How would you like to roll in your carriage, - Look for a duchess’s daughter in marriage? - Seize the Shoemaker--then you may! - “Big boots a-hunting, - Sandals in the hall, - White for a wedding-feast, - Pink for a ball. - This way, that way, - So we make a shoe; - Getting rich every stitch, - Tick-tack-too!” - Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks - This keen miser-fairy hath, - Hid in mountains, woods and rocks, - Ruin and round-tow’r, cave and rath, - And where the cormorants build; - From time of old - Guarded by him; - Each of them fill’d - Full to the brim - With gold! - - [Illustration] - - I caught him at work one day, myself, - In the castle-ditch, where foxglove grows,-- - A wrinkled, wizen’d, and bearded Elf, - Spectacles stuck on his pointed nose, - Silver buckles to his hose, - Leather apron--shoe in his lap-- - “Rip-rap, tip-tap, - Tack-tack-too! - (A grasshopper on my cap! - Away the moth flew!) - Buskins for a fairy prince, - Brogues for his son,-- - Pay me well, pay me well, - When the job is done!” - The rogue was mine, beyond a doubt. - I stared at him; he stared at me; - ‘Servant, Sir!’ ‘Humph!’ says he, - And pull’d a snuff-box out. - He took a long pinch, look’d better pleased, - The queer little Lepracaun; - Offer’d the box with a whimsical grace,-- - Pouf! he flung the dust in my face, - And, while I sneezed, - Was gone! - - _William Allingham_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - HUNTING SONG - - - Waken, lords and ladies gay! - On the mountain dawns the day; - All the jolly chase is here, - With hawk, and horse, and hunting spear! - Hounds are in their couples yelling, - Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling; - 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 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 fray’d; - 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_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE LADY OF SHALOTT - - [Illustration] - - - PART 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-veiled, - Slide the heavy barges trailed - By slow horses; and unhailed - The shallop flitteth silken-sailed - Skimming down to Camelot: - But who hath 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 the moon the reaper weary, - Piling sheaves in uplands airy, - Listening, whispers “’Tis the fairy - Lady of Shalott.” - - [Illustration] - - - PART II - - There she weaves by night and day - A magic web with colors 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 through 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-haired page in crimson clad, - Goes by to towered 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. - - [Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - - PART III - - A bow-shot from her bower-eaves, - He rode between the barley-sheaves, - The sun came dazzling through the leaves - And flamed upon the brazen greaves - Of bold Sir Lancelot. - A red-cross knight for ever kneeled - To a lady in his shield, - That sparkled on the yellow field, - Beside remote Shalott. - - The gemmy bridle glittered free, - Like to some branch of stars we see - Hung in the golden Galaxy. - The bridle bells rang merrily - As he rode down to Camelot; - And from his blazoned baldric slung - - [Illustration] - - A mighty silver bugle hung, - And as he rode his armor rung, - Beside remote Shalott. - - All in the blue unclouded weather - Thick-jeweled shone the saddle-leather, - The helmet and the helmet-feather - Burned like one burning flame together, - As he rode down to Camelot; - As often through the purple night, - Below the starry clusters bright, - Some bearded meteor, trailing light, - Moves over still Shalott. - - His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed; - On burnished hooves his war-horse trode; - From underneath his helmet flowed - His coal-black curls as on he rode, - As he rode down to Camelot. - From the bank and from the river - He flashed into the crystal mirror, - “Tirra lirra,” by the river - Sang Sir Lancelot. - - She left the web, she left the loom, - She made three paces through the room, - She saw the water-lily bloom, - She saw the helmet and the plume, - She looked down to Camelot. - Out flew the web and floated wide; - The mirror cracked from side to side; - “The curse is come upon me!” cried - The Lady of Shalott. - - [Illustration] - - - PART 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 towered 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 seër 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-- - Through 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 darkened wholly, - Turned to towered 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, 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 crossed 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 Tennyson_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - HYMN TO DIANA - - - 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 - Heav’n to clear, when day did close: - Bless us then with wishéd 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_ - - - - - THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS - - - I went out to the hazel wood, - Because a fire was in my head, - And cut and peeled a hazel wand, - And hooked a berry to a thread; - And when white moths were on the wing, - And moth-like stars were flickering out, - I dropped the berry in a stream - And caught a little silver trout. - - When I had laid it on the floor - I went to blow the fire a-flame, - But something rustled on the floor, - And some one called me by my name: - It had become a glimmering girl - With apple blossom in her hair - Who called me by my name and ran - And faded through the brightening air. - - Though I am old with wandering - Through hollow lands and hilly lands, - I will find out where she has gone, - And kiss her lips and take her hands; - And walk among long dappled grass, - And pluck till time and times are done, - The silver apples of the moon, - The golden apples of the sun. - - _William Butler Yeats_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE - - - Come live with me and be my love, - And we will all the pleasures prove - That hills and vallies, dales and fields, - And woods or steepy mountain yields. - - And we will sit upon the rocks, - Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks - By shallow rivers to whose falls - Melodious birds sing madrigals. - - And I will make thee beds of roses - And a thousand fragrant posies, - A cap of flowers, and a kirtle - Embroider’d all with leaves of myrtle. - - A gown made of the finest wool, - Which from our pretty lambs we pull, - Fair-linèd slippers for the cold, - With buckles of the purest gold. - - A belt of straw and ivy-buds - With coral clasps and amber studs, - An’ if these pleasures may thee move, - Come live with me, and be my love. - - Thy silver dishes for thy meat - As precious as the gods do eat, - Shall on an ivory table be - Prepar’d each day for thee and me. - - The shepherd-swains shall dance and sing - For thy delight each May-morning: - If these delights thy mind may move, - Then live with me, and be my love. - - _Christopher Marlowe_ - - [Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - - - - ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER - - - Come, all you brave gallants, and listen a while, - With hey down, down, an a down, - That are in the bowers within; - For of Robin Hood, that archer good, - A song I intend for to sing. - - Upon a time it chancëd so - Bold Robin in forrest did spy - A jolly butcher, with a bonny fine mare, - With his flesh to the market did hye. - - ‘Good morrow, good fellow,’ said jolly Robin, - ‘What food hast? tell unto me; - And thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell, - For I like well thy company.’ - - The butcher he answered jolly Robin: - ‘No matter where I dwell; - For a butcher I am, and to Notingham - I am going, my flesh to sell.’ - - ‘What is the price of thy flesh?’ said jolly Robin, - ‘Come tell it soon unto me; - And the price of thy mare, be she never so dear, - For a butcher fain would I be.’ - - ‘The price of my flesh,’ the butcher repli’d, - ‘I soon will tell unto thee; - With my bonny mare, and they are not dear, - Four mark thou must give unto me.’ - - ‘Four mark I will give thee,’ saith jolly Robin, - ‘Four mark it shall be thy fee; - Thy mony come count, and let me mount, - For a butcher I fain would be.’ - - Now Robin he is to Notingham gone, - His butcher’s trade for to begin; - With good intent, to the sheriff he went, - And there he took up his inn. - - When other butchers they opened their meat, - Bold Robin he then begun; - But how for to sell he knew not well, - For a butcher he was but young. - - When other butchers no meat could sell, - Robin got both gold and fee; - For he sold more meat for one peny - Than others could do for three. - - But when he sold his meat so fast, - No butcher by him could thrive; - For he sold more meat for one peny - Than others could do for five. - - Which made the butchers of Notingham - To study as they did stand, - Saying, surely he was some prodigal, - That had sold his father’s land. - - The butchers they stepped to jolly Robin, - Acquainted with him for to be; - ‘Come, brother,’ one said, ‘we be all of one trade, - Come, will you go dine with me?’ - - ‘Accurst of his heart,’ said jolly Robin, - ‘That a butcher doth deny; - I will go with you my brethren true, - And as fast as I can hie.’ - - But when to the sheriff’s house they came, - To dinner they hied apace, - And Robin he the man must be - Before them all to say grace. - - ‘Pray God bless us all,’ said jolly Robin, - ‘And our meat within this place; - A cup of sack so good will nourish our blood, - And so I do end my grace. - - ‘Come fill us more wine,’ said jolly Robin, - ‘Let us merry be while we do stay; - For wine and good cheer, be it never so dear, - I vow I the reckning will pay. - - ‘Come, brothers, be merry,’ said jolly Robin, - ‘Let us drink, and never give ore; - For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way, - If it cost me five pounds and more.’ - - ‘This is a mad blade,’ the butchers then said; - Saies the sheriff, ‘He is some prodigal, - That some land has sold, for silver and gold, - And now he doth mean to spend all. - - ‘Hast thou any horn-beasts,’ the sheriff repli’d, - ‘Good fellow, to sell unto me?’ - ‘Yes, that I have, good Master Sheriff, - I have hundreds two or three. - - ‘And a hundred aker of good free land, - If you please it to see; - And I’le make you as good assurance of it - As ever my father made me.’ - - The sheriff he saddled a good palfrey, - With three hundred pound in gold, - And away he went with bold Robin Hood, - His horned beasts to behold. - - Away then the sheriff and Robin did ride, - To the forrest of merry Sherwood; - Then the sheriff did say, ‘God bless us this day - From a man they call Robin Hood!’ - - But when that a little further they came, - Bold Robin he chanced to spy - A hundred head of good red deer, - Come tripping the sheriff full nigh. - - ‘How like you my hornd beasts, good Master Sheriff? - They be fat and fair for to see:’ - ‘I tell thee, good fellow, I would I were gone, - For I like not thy company.’ - - Then Robin he set his horn to his mouth, - And blew but blasts three; - Then quickly anon there came Little John, - And all his company. - - ‘What is your will?’ then said little John, - ‘Good master come tell it to me;’ - ‘I have brought hither the sheriff of Notingham, - This day to dine with thee.’ - - ‘He is welcome to me,’ then said Little John, - ‘I hope he will honestly pay; - I know he has gold, if it be but well told, - Will serve us to drink a whole day.’ - - [Illustration] - - - Then Robin took his mantle from his back, - And laid it upon the ground, - And out of the sheriffe’s portmantle - He told three hundred pound. - - The Robin he brought him thorow the wood, - And set him on his dapple gray: - ‘O have me commended to your wife at home;’ - So Robin went laughing away. - - _Author Unknown_ - - - - - A SEA SONG - - - A wet sheet and a flowing sea, - A wind that follows fast, - And fills the white and rustling sail, - And bends the gallant mast; - And bends the gallant mast, my boys, - While, like the eagle free, - Away the good ship flies, and leaves - Old England on the lee. - - O for a soft and gentle wind! - I heard a fair one cry; - But give to me the snoring breeze - And white waves heaving high; - And white waves heaving high, my boys, - The good ship tight and free-- - The world of waters is our home, - And merry men are we. - - There’s tempest in yon hornèd moon, - And lightning in yon cloud; - And hark the music, mariners! - The wind is piping loud; - The wind is piping loud, my boys, - The lightning flashes free-- - While the hollow oak our palace is, - Our heritage the sea. - - _Allan Cunningham_ - - - - - EPITAPH ON A HARE - - - Here lies, whom hound did ne’er pursue, - Nor swifter greyhound follow, - Whose foot ne’er tainted morning dew, - Nor ear heard huntsman’s hallo; - - Old Tiney, surliest of his kind, - Who, nursed with tender care, - And to domestic bounds confined, - Was still a wild Jack-hare. - - Though duly from my hand he took - His pittance every night, - He did it with a jealous look, - And, when he could, would bite. - - His diet was of wheaten bread, - And milk, and oats, and straw; - Thistles, or lettuces instead, - With sand to scour his maw. - - On twigs of hawthorn he regaled, - On pippins’ russet peel; - And, when his juicy salads failed, - Sliced carrot pleased him well. - - A Turkey carpet was his lawn, - Whereon he loved to bound, - To skip and gambol like a fawn, - And swing his rump around. - - His frisking was at evening hours, - For then he lost his fear; - But most before approaching showers, - Or when a storm drew near. - - [Illustration] - - Eight years and five round-rolling moons - He thus saw steal away, - Dozing out all his idle noons, - And every night at play. - - I kept him for his humor’s sake, - For he would oft beguile - My heart of thoughts that made it ache, - And force me to a smile. - - But now, beneath this walnut-shade - He finds his long, last home, - And waits, in snug concealment laid, - Till gentler Puss shall come. - - He, still more agèd, feels the shocks - From which no care can save, - And, partner once of Tiney’s box, - Must soon partake his grave. - - _William Cowper_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE PILGRIM - - From “THE PILGRIM’S PROGRESS” - - - Who would true valor see, - Let him come hither! - One here will constant be, - Come wind, come weather; - There’s no discouragement - Shall make him once relent - His first-avowed intent - To be a Pilgrim. - - Whoso beset him round - With dismal stories, - Do but themselves confound; - His strength the more is. - No lion can him fright; - He’ll with a giant fight; - But he will have a right - To be a Pilgrim. - - Hobgoblin, nor foul fiend, - Can daunt his spirit; - He knows he at the end - Shall Life inherit:-- - Then, fancies, fly away; - He’ll not fear what men say; - He’ll labor night and day, - To be a Pilgrim. - - _John Bunyan_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - LULLABY FOR TITANIA - - - _First Fairy_ - - You spotted snakes with double tongue, - Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen; - Newts, and blind-worms, do no wrong; - Come not near our fairy queen. - - _Chorus_ - - 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. - - _Second Fairy_ - - Weaving spiders, come not here; - Hence, you long-legg’d spinners, hence; - Beetles black, approach not near; - Worm, nor snail, do no offence. - - _Chorus_ - - Philomel with melody - Sing in our sweet lullaby; - - [Illustration] - - Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby! - Never harm, nor spell, nor charm, - Come our lovely lady nigh! - So good-night, with lullaby. - - _William Shakespeare_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - ISRAFEL - -And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who has -the sweetest voice of all God’s creatures.--_Koran._ - - - In Heaven a spirit doth dwell - Whose heart-strings are a lute; - None sing so wildly well - As the Angel Israfel, - And the giddy stars (so legends tell), - Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell - Of his voice, all mute. - - Tottering above - In her highest noon, - The enamoured moon - Blushes with love, - While, to listen, the red levin - (With the rapid Pleiads, even, - Which were seven) - Pauses in Heaven. - - And they say (the starry choir - And the other listening things) - That Israfeli’s fire - Is owing to that lyre - By which he sits and sings, - The trembling living wire - Of those unusual strings. - - [Illustration] - - - But the skies that angel trod, - Where deep thoughts are a duty, - Where Love’s a grown-up God, - Where the Houri glances are - Imbued with all the beauty - Which we worship in a star. - - Therefore thou art not wrong, - Israfeli, who despisest - An unimpassioned song; - To thee the laurels belong, - Best bard, because the wisest: - Merrily live, and long! - - The ecstasies above - With thy burning measures suit: - Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love, - With the fervor of thy lute: - Well may the stars be mute! - - Yes, Heaven is thine; but this - Is a world of sweets and sours; - Our flowers are merely--flowers, - And the shadow of thy perfect bliss - Is the sunshine of ours. - - If I could dwell - Where Israfel - Hath dwelt, and he where I, - He might not sing so wildly well - A mortal melody, - While a bolder note than this might swell - From my lyre within the sky. - - _Edgar Allan Poe_ - - - - - JAFFÁR - - - Jaffár, the Barmecide, the good Vizier, - The poor man’s hope, the friend without a peer, - Jaffár was dead, slain by a doom unjust; - And guilty Hàroun, sullen with mistrust - Of what the good, and e’en the bad, might say, - Ordained that no man living from that day - Should dare to speak his name on pain of death. - All Araby and Persia held their breath; - All but the brave Mondeer: he, proud to show - How far for love a grateful soul could go, - And facing death for very scorn and grief - (For his great heart wanted a great relief), - Stood forth in Bagdad daily, in the square - Where once had stood a happy house, and there - Harangued the tremblers at the scimitar - On all they owed to the divine Jaffár. - - “Bring me this man,” the caliph cried. The man - Was brought, was gazed upon. The mutes began - To bind his arms. “Welcome, brave cords,” cried he; - “From bonds far worse Jaffár delivered me; - From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears; - Made a man’s eyes friends with delicious tears; - Restored me, loved me, put me on a par - With his great self. How can I pay Jaffár?” - - Hàroun, who felt that on a soul like this - The mightiest vengeance could but fall amiss - Now deigned to smile, as one great lord of fate - Might smile upon another half as great. - He said, “Let worth grow frenzied if it will; - The caliph’s judgment shall be master still. - Go: and since gifts so move thee, take this gem, - The richest in the Tartar’s diadem, - And hold the giver as thou deemest fit!” - - “Gifts!” cried the friend; he took, and holding it - High toward the heavens, as though to meet his star, - Exclaimed, “This, too, I owe to thee, Jaffár!” - - _Leigh Hunt_ - - - - - A SONG OF SHERWOOD - - - Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake? - Gray and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake; - Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn, - Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn. - - Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves - Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves, - Calling as he used to call, faint and far away, - In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. - - Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June: - All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon; - Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist - Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst. - - Merry, merry England is waking as of old, - With eyes of blither hazel and hair of brighter gold: - For Robin Hood is here again beneath the bursting spray - In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. - - Love is in the greenwood building him a house - Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs: - Love is in the greenwood: dawn is in the skies; - And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes. - - Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep: - Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep? - Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay, - In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. - - Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold, - Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould, - Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red, - And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed. - - Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together - With quarter-staff and drinking-can and gray goose-feather; - The dead are coming back again; the years are rolled away - In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. - - Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows; - All the heart of England hid in every rose - Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap, - Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep? - - Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old - And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold, - Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep, - _Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?_ - - Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen - All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men; - Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May - In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day; - Calls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash - Rings the _Follow! Follow!_ and the boughs begin to crash; - The ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly; - And through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by. - - _Robin! Robin! Robin!_ All his merry thieves - Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves: - Calling as he used to call, faint and far away, - In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day. - - _Alfred Noyes_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB - - (710 B.C.) - - - The Assyrian came down like the 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 withered 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 nostrils 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_ - - - - - IVRY - - (March 14, 1590) - - - Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are! - And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Navarre! - Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance, - Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vines, oh pleasant land of France! - And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters, - Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters. - As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy; - For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy. - Hurrah! hurrah! a single field hath turned the chance of war. - Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry and Henry of Navarre. - - Oh! how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of day, - We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array; - With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers, - And Appenzel’s stout infantry and Egmont’s Flemish spears. - There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land; - And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand; - And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine’s empurpled flood, - And good Coligni’s hoary hair all dabbled with his blood; - And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war, - To fight for His own holy name, and Henry of Navarre. - - The King is come to marshal us, in all his armor dressed; - And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest. - He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye; - He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high. - Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to wing, - Down all our line, a deafening shout: “God save our Lord the King!” - “And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may, - For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray, - Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks of war, - And be your oriflamme today the helmet of Navarre.” - - Hurrah! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din, - Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring culverin. - The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint André’s plain, - With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne. - Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France, - Charge for the golden lilies,--upon them with the lance! - A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest, - A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest; - And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star, - Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre. - - Now, God be praised, the day is ours. Mayenne hath turned his rein; - D’Aumale hath cried for quarter; the Flemish count is slain. - Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale; - The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail. - And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van, - “Remember Saint Bartholomew!” was passed from man to man. - But out spake gentle Henry, “No Frenchman is my foe: - Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.” - Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war, - As our Sovereign Lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre?... - - Ho! maidens of Vienna; ho! matrons of Lucerne; - Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall return. - Ho! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles, - That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen’s souls. - Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be bright; - Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to-night; - For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised the slave, - And mocked the counsel of the wise, and the valor of the brave. - Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are; - And glory to our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre! - - _Thomas Babington Macaulay_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE TIGER - - - Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, - In the forests of the night, - What immortal hand or eye - Could frame thy fearful symmetry? - - In what distant deeps or skies - Burnt the fire of thine eyes? - On what wings dare he aspire? - What the hand dare seize the fire? - - And what shoulder, and what art, - Could twist the sinews of thy heart? - And when thy heart began to beat, - What dread hand and what dread feet? - - What the hammer? what the chain? - In what furnace was thy brain? - What the anvil? What dread grasp - Dare its deadly terrors clasp? - - When the stars threw down their spears, - And watered heaven with their tears, - Did He smile His work to see? - Did He who made the Lamb, make thee? - - Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, - In the forests of the night, - What immortal hand or eye - Dare frame thy fearful symmetry? - - _William Blake_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE TERRIBLE ROBBER MEN - - - O! I wish the sun was bright in the sky, - And the fox was back in his den, O! - For always I’m hearing the passing by - Of the terrible robber men, O! - The terrible robber men. - - O! what does the fox carry over the rye - When it’s bright in the morn again, O! - And what is it making the lonesome cry - With the terrible robber men, O! - The terrible robber men. - - O! I wish the sun was bright in the sky, - And the fox was back in his den, O! - For always I’m hearing the passing by - Of the terrible robber men, O! - The terrible robber men. - - _Padraic Colum_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - SIR PATRICK SPENS - - - The king sits in Dunfermline toun, - Drinking the blude-red wine: - ‘O whare will I get a skeely skipper - To sail this new ship of mine?’ - - O up and spake an eldern knight, - Sat at the king’s right knee-- - ‘Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor - That ever sailed the sea.’ - - Our king has written a braid letter, - And sealed it with his hand, - And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens, - Was walking on the strand. - - ‘To Noroway, to Noroway, - To Noroway o’er the faem; - The king’s daughter of Noroway, - ’Tis thou maun bring her hame.’ - - The first word that Sir Patrick read, - Sae loud loud laughed he; - The neist word that Sir Patrick read, - The tear blinded his e’e. - - ‘O wha is this has done this deed, - And tauld the king o’ me, - To send us out, at this time of the year, - To sail upon the sea?’ - - ‘Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet, - Our ship must sail the faem; - The king’s daughter of Noroway, - ’Tis we must fetch her hame.’ - - They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn, - Wi’ a’ the speed they may; - And they hae landed in Noroway - Upon a Wedensday. - - They hadna been a week, a week - In Noroway but twae, - When that the lords o’ Noroway - Began aloud to say: - - ‘Ye Scottishmen spend a’ our king’s gowd, - And a’ our queenis fee.’ - ‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud! - Fu’ loud I hear ye lie! - - ‘For I hae brought as much white monie - As gane my men and me-- - And I hae brought a half-fou’ o’ gude red gowd - Out o’er the sea wi’ me. - - ‘Make ready, make ready, my merry men a’! - Our gude ship sails the morn.’ - ‘Now ever alake, my master dear, - I fear a deadly storm! - - ‘I saw the new moon, late yestreen, - Wi’ the auld moon in her arm; - And if we gang to sea, master, - I fear we’ll come to harm.’ - - They hadna sail’d a league, a league, - A league but barely three, - When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud, - And gurly grew the sea. - - The ankers brak, and the top-masts lap, - It was sic a deadly storm; - And the waves cam’ o’er the broken ship - Till a’ her sides were torn. - - ‘O where will I get a gude sailor, - To take my helm in hand, - Till I get up to the tall top-mast; - To see if I can spy land?’ - - ‘O here am I, a sailor gude, - To take the helm in hand, - Till ye get up to the tall top-mast: - But I fear you’ll ne’er spy land.’ - - He hadna gane a step, a step, - A step but barely ane, - When a bout flew out of our goodly ship, - And the salt sea it came in. - - ‘Gae, fetch a web o’ the silken claith, - Another o’ the twine, - And wap them into our ship’s side, - And letna the sea come in.’ - - They fetch’d a web o’ the silken claith, - Another o’ the twine, - And they wapped them round that gude ship’s side, - But still the sea came in. - - O laith laith were our gude Scots lords - To wet their cork-heeled shoon! - But lang ere a’ the play was play’d - They wat their hats aboon. - - And mony was the feather-bed - That floated on the faem, - And mony was the gude lord’s son - That never mair came hame. - - The ladyes wrang their fingers white-- - The maidens tore their hair; - - [Illustration] - - A’ for the sake of their true loves-- - For them they’ll see na mair. - - O lang lang may the ladyes sit, - Wi’ their fans into their hand, - Before they see Sir Patrick Spens - Come sailing to the strand! - - And lang lang may the maidens sit, - Wi’ the goud kaims in their hair, - A’ waiting for their ain dear loves-- - For them they’ll see na mair. - - O forty miles off Aberdour, - ’Tis fifty fathoms deep, - And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens, - Wi’ the Scots lords at his feet. - - _Author Unknown_ - - - - - “BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND” - - - Blow, blow, thou winter wind, - Thou are not so unkind - As man’s ingratitude; - Thy tooth is not so keen, - Because thou art not seen, - Although thy breath be rude. - Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly; - Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly; - Then, heigh-ho! the holly! - This life is most jolly! - - Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky, - Thou dost not bite so nigh - As benefits forgot: - Though thou the waters warp, - Thy sting is not so sharp - As friend remembered not. - Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly - Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly; - Then, heigh-ho, the holly! - This life is most jolly! - - _William Shakespeare_ - - - - - THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN - - (A Child’s Story) - - [Illustration] - - - I - - Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick, - By famous Hanover city; - The river Weser, deep and wide, - Washes its wall on the southern side; - A pleasanter spot you never spied; - But, when begins my ditty, - Almost five hundred years ago, - To see the townsfolk suffer so - From vermin was a pity. - - - II - - Rats! - They fought the dogs and killed the cats - And bit the babies in the cradles, - And ate the cheeses out of the vats, - And licked the soup from the cook’s own ladles, - Split open the kegs of salted sprats, - Made nests inside men’s Sunday hats, - And even spoiled the women’s chats - By drowning their speaking - With shrieking and squeaking - In fifty different sharps and flats. - - - III - - At last the people in a body - To the Town Hall came flocking: - “’Tis clear,” cried they, “our Mayor’s a noddy; - And as for our Corporation,--shocking - To think we buy gowns lined with ermine - For dolts that can’t or won’t determine - What’s best to rid us of our vermin! - You hope, because you’re old and obese, - To find in the furry civic robe ease? - Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking, - To find the remedy we’re lacking, - Or, sure as fate, we’ll send you packing!” - At this the Mayor and Corporation - Quaked with a mighty consternation. - - - IV - - An hour they sat in council,-- - At length the Mayor broke silence: - “For a guilder I’d my ermine gown sell; - I wish I were a mile hence! - It’s easy to bid one rack one’s brain,-- - I’m sure my poor head aches again, - I’ve scratched it so, and all in vain. - Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!” - Just as he said this, what should hap - At the chamber-door but a gentle tap? - “Bless us,” cried the Mayor, “what’s that?” - (With the Corporation as he sat, - Looking little though wondrous fat; - Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister - Than a too-long-opened oyster, - Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous - For a plate of turtle green and glutinous) - “Only a scraping of shoes on the mat? - Anything like the sound of a rat - Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!” - - - V - - “Come in!” the Mayor cried, looking bigger: - And in did come the strangest figure! - His queer long coat from heel to head - Was half of yellow and half of red, - And he himself was tall and thin, - With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin, - And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin, - No tuft on cheek, nor beard on chin, - But lips where smiles went out and in; - There was no guessing his kith and kin: - And nobody could enough admire - The tall man and his quaint attire. - Quoth one: “It’s as my great-grandsire, - Starting up at the Trump of Doom’s tone, - Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!” - - - VI - - He advanced to the council-table: - And, “Please your honors,” said he, “I’m able, - By means of a secret charm to draw - All creatures living beneath the sun, - That creep or swim or fly or run, - After me so as you never saw! - And I chiefly use my charm - On creatures that do people harm, - The mole and toad and newt and viper; - And people call me the Pied Piper.” - (And here they noticed round his neck - A scarf of red and yellow stripe, - To match with his coat of the self-same check, - And at the scarf’s end hung a pipe; - And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying - As if impatient to be playing - Upon this pipe as low it dangled - Over his vesture so old-fangled.) - “Yet,” said he, “poor piper as I am, - In Tartary I freed the Cham, - Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats; - I eased in Asia the Nizam - Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats; - And as for what your brain bewilders,-- - If I can rid your town of rats, - Will you give me a thousand guilders?” - “One? fifty thousand!” was the exclamation - Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation. - - [Illustration] - - - VII - - Into the street the Piper stepped, - Smiling first a little smile, - As if he knew what magic slept - In his quiet pipe the while; - Then, like a musical adept, - To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled, - And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled, - Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled; - And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered, - You heard as if an army muttered; - And the muttering grew to a grumbling; - And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling; - And out of the houses the rats came tumbling. - Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats, - Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats, - Grave old plodders, gay young friskers, - Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins, - Cocking tails and pricking whiskers; - Families by tens and dozens, - Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives,-- - Followed the Piper for their lives. - From street to street he piped advancing, - And step for step they followed dancing, - Until they came to the river Weser, - Wherein all plunged and perished! - --Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar, - Swam across and lived to carry - (As he, the manuscript he cherished) - To Rat-land home his commentary, - Which was: “At the first shrill notes of the pipe, - I heard the sound as of scraping tripe, - And putting apples, wondrous ripe, - Into a cider-press’s gripe,-- - And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards, - And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards, - And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks, - And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks; - And it seemed as if a voice - (Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery - Is breathed) called out ‘Oh rats, rejoice! - The world is grown to one vast drysaltery! - So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon, - Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!’ - And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon, - Already staved, like a great sun shone - Glorious scarce an inch before me, - Just as methought it said, ‘Come, bore me!’-- - I found the Weser rolling o’er me.” - - [Illustration] - - - VIII - - You should have heard the Hamelin people - Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple; - “Go,” cried the Mayor, “and get long poles! - Poke out the nests and block up the holes! - Consult with carpenters and builders, - And leave in our town not even a trace - Of the rats!”--when suddenly, up the face - Of the Piper perked in the market-place, - With a “First, if you please, my thousand guilders!” - - - IX - - A thousand guilders! the Mayor looked blue; - So did the Corporation too. - For council-dinners made rare havoc - With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock; - And half the money would replenish - Their cellar’s biggest butt with Rhenish. - To pay this sum to a wandering fellow - With a gypsy coat of red and yellow! - “Beside,” quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink, - “Our business was done at the river’s brink; - We saw with our eyes the vermin sink, - And what’s dead can’t come to life, I think. - So, friend, we’re not the folks to shrink - From the duty of giving you something to drink, - And a matter of money to put in your poke; - But as for the guilders, what we spoke - Of them, as you very well know, was in joke. - Beside, our losses have made us thrifty; - A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!” - - - X - - The Piper’s face fell, and he cried, - “No trifling! I can’t wait! beside, - I’ve promised to visit by dinner time - Bagdat, and accept the prime - Of the Head Cook’s pottage, all he’s rich in, - For having left, in the Caliph’s kitchen, - Of a nest of scorpions no survivor; - With him I proved no bargain-driver; - With you, don’t think I’ll bate a stiver! - And folks who put me in a passion - May find me pipe after another fashion.” - - [Illustration] - - - XI - - “How?” cried the Mayor, “d’ye think I brook - Being worse treated than a Cook? - Insulted by a lazy ribald - With idle pipe and vesture piebald? - You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst, - Blow your pipe there till you burst!” - - [Illustration] - - - XII - - Once more he stepped into the street; - And to his lips again - Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane; - And ere he blew three notes (such sweet - Soft notes as jet musician’s cunning - Never gave the enraptured air) - There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling - Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling; - Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering, - Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering; - And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering, - Out came the children running: - All the little boys and girls, - With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls, - And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls, - Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after - The wonderful music with shouting and laughter. - - - XIII - - The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood - As if they were changed into blocks of wood, - Unable to move a step, or cry - To the children merrily skipping by,-- - And could only follow with the eye - That joyous crowd at the Piper’s back. - But how the Mayor was on the rack, - And the wretched Council’s bosoms beat, - As the Piper turned from the High Street - To where the Weser rolled its waters - Right in the way of their sons and daughters! - However, he turned from south to west, - And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed, - And after him the children pressed; - Great was the joy in every breast. - “He never can cross that mighty top! - He’s forced to let the piping drop, - And we shall see our children stop!” - When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side, - A wondrous portal opened wide, - As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed; - And the Piper advanced and the children followed; - And when all were in, to the very last, - The door in the mountain-side shut fast. - Did I say, all? No! One was lame, - And could not dance the whole of the way; - And in after years, if you would blame - His sadness, he was used to say,-- - “It’s dull in our town since my playmates left! - I can’t forget that I am bereft - Of all the pleasant sights they see, - Which the Piper also promised me; - For he led us, he said, to a joyous land, - Joining the town and just at hand, - Where waters gushed, and fruit-trees grew, - And flowers put forth a fairer hue, - And everything was strange and new; - The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here, - And their dogs outran our fallow deer, - And honey-bees had lost their stings, - And horses were born with eagles’ wings; - And just as I became assured - My lame foot would be speedily cured, - The music stopped and I stood still, - And found myself outside the hill, - Left alone against my will, - To go now limping as before, - And never hear of that country more!” - - - XIV - - Alas, alas for Hamelin! - There came into many a burgher’s pate - A text which says that heaven’s gate - Opes to the rich at as easy rate - As the needle’s eye takes a camel in! - The Mayor sent East, West, North and South, - To offer the Piper, by word of mouth, - Wherever it was men’s lot to find him, - Silver and gold to his heart’s content, - If he’d only return the way he went, - And bring the children behind him. - But when they saw ’twas a lost endeavor, - And piper and dancers were gone forever, - They made a decree that lawyers never - Should think their records dated duly - If, after the day of the month and year, - These words did not as well appear, - “And so long after what happened here - On the Twenty-second of July, - Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:” - And the better in memory to fix - The place of the children’s last retreat, - They called it, the Pied Piper Street-- - Where any one playing on pipe or tabor - Was sure for the future to lose his labor. - Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern - To shock with mirth a street so solemn; - But opposite the place of the cavern - They wrote the story on a column, - And on the great church-window painted - The same, to make the world acquainted - How their children were stolen away, - And there it stands to this very day. - And I must not omit to say - That in Transylvania there’s a tribe - Of alien people who ascribe - The outlandish ways and dress - On which their neighbors lay such stress, - To their fathers and mothers having risen - Out of some subterraneous prison - Into which they were trepanned - Long time ago in a mighty band - Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land, - But how or why, they don’t understand. - - - XV - - So, Willy, let me and you be wipers - Of scores out with all men--especially pipers! - And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice, - If we’ve promised them aught, let us keep our promise! - - _Robert Browning_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - “TIME, YOU OLD GIPSY MAN” - - - Time, you old gipsy man, - Will you not stay, - Put up your caravan - Just for one day? - - All things I’ll give you - Will you be my guest, - Bells for your jennet - Of silver the best, - Goldsmiths shall beat you - A great golden ring, - Peacocks shall bow to you, - Little boys sing, - Oh, and sweet girls will - Festoon you with may. - Time, you old gipsy, - Why hasten away? - - Last week in Babylon, - Last night in Rome, - Morning, and in the crush - Under Paul’s dome; - Under Paul’s dial - You tighten your rein-- - Only a moment, - And off once again; - - [Illustration] - - - Off to some city - Now blind in the womb, - Off to another - Ere that’s in the tomb. - - Time, you old gipsy man, - Will you not stay, - Put up your caravan - Just for one day? - - _Ralph Hodgson_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE SOLITARY REAPER - - - Behold her, single in the field, - Yon solitary Highland Lass! - Reaping and singing by herself; - Stop here, or gently pass! - Alone she cuts and binds the grain, - And sings a melancholy strain; - O listen! for the Vale profound - Is overflowing with the sound. - - No Nightingale did ever chaunt - More welcome notes to weary bands - Of travellers in some shady haunt, - Among Arabian sands: - A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard - In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird, - Breaking the silence of the seas - Among the farthest Hebrides. - - Will no one tell me what she sings?-- - Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow - For old, unhappy, far-off things, - And battles long ago: - Or is it some more humble lay, - Familiar matter of to-day? - Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain, - That has been, and may be again? - - Whate’er the theme, the Maiden sang - As if her song could have no ending; - I saw her singing at her work, - And o’er the sickle bending;-- - I listened, motionless and still; - And, as I mounted up the hill - The music in my heart I bore, - Long after it was heard no more. - - _William Wordsworth_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - MY LOST YOUTH - - - 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 - 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 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.” - - I remember the bulwarks by the shore, - And the fort upon the hill; - The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar, - The drum-beat repeated o’er and o’er, - And the bugle wild and shrill. - And the music of that old song - Throbs in my memory still: - “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, - And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” - - I remember the sea-fight far away, - How it thundered o’er the tide! - And the dead captains, as they lay - In their graves, o’erlooking the tranquil bay - Where they in battle died. - And the sound of that mournful song - Goes through me with a thrill: - “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, - And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” - - I can see the breezy dome of groves, - The shadows of Deering’s Woods; - And the friendships old and the early loves - Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves - In quiet neighborhoods. - And the verse of that sweet old song, - It flutters and murmurs still: - “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, - And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.” - - I remember the gleams and glooms that dart - Across the school-boy’s brain; - The song and the silence in the heart, - That in part are prophecies, and in part - Are longings wild and vain. - And the voice of that fitful song - Sings on, and is never still: - “A boy’s will is the wind’s will, - And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”... - - _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - BATTLE-HYMN OF THE 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 fateful lighting 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. - - I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel: - “As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal; - Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel, - Since God 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: - Oh, 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_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - GATHERING SONG OF DONALD DHU - - - Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, - Pibroch of Donuil, - Wake thy wild voice anew, - Summon Clan Conuil. - Come away, come away, - Hark to the summons! - Come in your war-array, - Gentles and commons. - - Come from deep glen, and - From mountain so rocky, - The war-pipe and pennon - Are at Inverlochy. - Come every hill-plaid, and - True heart that wears one, - Come every steel blade, and - Strong hand that bears one. - - Leave untended the herd, - The flock without shelter; - Leave the corpse uninterr’d, - The bride at the altar; - Leave the deer, leave the steer, - Leave nets and barges: - Come with your fighting gear, - Broadswords and targes. - - Come as the winds come, when - Forests are rended; - Come as the waves come, when - Navies are stranded: - Faster come, faster come, - Faster and faster, - Chief, vassal, page and groom, - Tenant and master. - - Fast they come, fast they come; - See how they gather! - Wide waves the eagle plume - Blended with heather. - Cast your plaids, draw your blades, - Forward each man set! - Pibroch of Donuil Dhu - Knell for the onset! - - _Sir Walter Scott_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE MINSTREL-BOY - - - The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone, - In the ranks of death you’ll find him; - His father’s sword he has girded on, - And his wild harp slung behind him.-- - ‘Land of song!’ said the warrior-bard, - ‘Though all the world betrays thee, - _One_ sword, at least, thy rights shall guard, - _One_ faithful harp shall praise thee!’ - - The Minstrel fell!--but the foeman’s chain - Could not bring his proud soul under; - The harp he loved ne’er spoke again, - For he tore its chords asunder; - And said, ‘No chains shall sully thee, - Thou soul of love and bravery! - Thy songs were made for the brave and free, - They shall never sound in slavery!’ - - _Thomas Moore_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - BANNOCKBURN - - (_Robert Bruce’s Address to His Army_) - - - Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, - Scots, wham Bruce has aften led; - Welcome to your gory bed, - Or to glorious victorie. - - Now’s the day, and now’s the hour; - See the front o’ battle lower; - See approach proud Edward’s power-- - Edward! chains and slaverie! - - Wha will be a traitor knave? - Wha can fill a coward’s grave? - Wha sae base as be a slave? - Traitor! coward! turn and flee! - - Wha for Scotland’s King and law - Freedom’s sword will strongly draw, - Free-man stand, or free-man fa’? - Caledonian! on wi’ me! - - By oppression’s woes and pains! - By your sons in servile chains! - We will drain our dearest veins, - But they shall--they _shall_ be free! - - Lay the proud usurpers low! - Tyrants fall in every foe! - Liberty’s in every blow! - Forward! let us do, or die! - - _Robert Burns_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - FABLE - - - The mountain and the squirrel - Had a quarrel, - And the former called the latter “Little Prig;” - Bun replied, - “You are doubtless very big; - But all sorts of things and weather - Must be taken in together, - To make up a year - And a sphere. - And I think it no disgrace - To occupy my place. - If I’m not so large as you, - You are not so small as I, - And not half so spry. - - I’ll not deny you make - A very pretty squirrel track; - Talents differ; all is well and wisely put; - If I cannot carry forests on my back, - Neither can you crack a nut.” - - _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - GOOD HOURS - - - I had for my winter evening walk-- - No one at all with whom to talk, - But I had the cottages in a row - Up to their shining eyes in snow. - - And I thought I had the folk within: - I had the sound of a violin; - I had a glimpse through curtain laces - Of youthful forms and youthful faces. - - I had such company outward bound. - I went till there were no cottages found. - I turned and repented, but coming back - I saw no window but that was black. - - Over the snow my creaking feet - Disturbed the slumbering village street - Like profanation, by your leave, - At ten o’clock of a winter eve. - - _Robert Frost_ - - - - - WINTER - - - When icicles hang by the wall, - And Dick the shepherd blows his nail, - And Tom bears logs into the hall, - And milk comes frozen home in pail, - When blood is nipt, and ways be foul, - Then nightly sings the staring owl, - Tuwhoo! - Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note! - While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. - - When all around the wind doth blow, - And coughing drowns the parson’s saw, - And birds sit brooding in the snow, - And Marian’s nose looks red and raw, - When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl, - Then nightly sings the staring owl - Tuwhoo! - Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note! - While greasy Joan doth keel the pot. - - _William Shakespeare_ - - - - - A CHANTED CALENDAR - - - 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 looked 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 rolled by - Wanders to and fro - So tottered she, - Dishevelled in the wind. - - Then came the daisies, - On the first of May - Like a bannered 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 rolled 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_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE CLOUD - - - I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers - From the seas and the streams; - I bear light shade for the leaves when laid - In their noonday dreams. - From my wings are shaken the dews that waken - The sweet buds every one, - When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast - As she dances about the sun. - I wield the flail of the lashing hail, - And whiten the green plains under; - And then again I dissolve it in rain, - And laugh as I pass in thunder. - - I sift the snow on the mountains below, - And their great pines groan aghast; - And all the night ’tis my pillow white, - While I sleep in the arms of the blast. - Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers - Lightning my pilot sits; - In a cavern under is fettered the thunder, - It struggles and howls at fits. - - Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion, - This pilot is guiding me, - Lured by the love of the Genii that move - In the depths of the purple sea; - Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills, - Over the lakes and the plains, - Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream, - The Spirit he loves remains; - And I all the while bask in heaven’s blue smile, - Whilst he is dissolving in rains. - - The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes, - And his burning plumes outspread, - Leaps on the back of my sailing rack, - When the morning star shines dead, - As on the jag of a mountain-crag, - Which an earthquake rocks and swings, - An eagle alit one moment may sit - In the light of its golden wings. - And, when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath, - Its ardors of rest and of love, - And the crimson pall of eve may fall - From the depth of heaven above, - With wings folded I rest on mine airy nest, - As still as a brooding dove. - - That orbèd maiden with white fire laden, - Whom mortals call the Moon, - Glides glimmering o’er my fleece-like floor, - By the midnight breezes strewn; - - [Illustration] - - And wherever the beat of her unseen feet, - Which only the angels hear, - May have broken the woof of my tent’s thin roof, - The Stars peep behind her and peer. - And I laugh to see them whirl and flee - Like a swarm of golden bees, - When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent, - Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas, - Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high, - Are each paved with the moon and these. - - I bind the Sun’s throne with a burning zone, - And the Moon’s with a girdle of pearl; - The volcanoes are dim, and the Stars reel and swim, - When the Whirlwinds my banner unfurl. - From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape, - Over a torrent sea, - Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof; - The mountains its columns be. - The triumphal arch through which I march, - With hurricane, fire and snow, - When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair, - Is the million-colored bow; - The Sphere-fire above its soft colors wove, - While the moist Earth was laughing below. - - I am the daughter of Earth and Water, - And the nursling of the Sky: - I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores; - I change, but I cannot die. - For after the rain, when with never a stain - The pavilion of heaven is bare, - And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams - Build up the blue dome of air, - I silently laugh at my own cenotaph, - And out of the caverns of rain, - Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb, - I arise and unbuild it again. - - _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - BUGLE SONG - - - The splendor 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 - 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 Tennyson_ - - - - - 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-walled town, - And the little gray 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 the far-off bell. - She sighed, she looked up through the clear green sea; - She said: “I must go, for my kinsfolk pray - In the little gray 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? - - [Illustration] - - 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 gray 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 climbed 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 blessed 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 starred with broom, - And high rocks throw mildly - On the blanched 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 hillside-- - 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_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - NURSE’S SONG - - - When the voices of children are heard on the green - And laughing is heard on the hill, - My heart is at rest within my breast, - And everything else is still. - - “Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down, - And the dews of night arise; - Come, come, leave off play, and let us away - Till the morning appears in the skies.” - - “No, no, let us play, for it is yet day, - And we cannot go to sleep; - Besides in the sky the little birds fly, - And the hills are all covered with sheep.” - - “Well, well, go and play till the light fades away, - And then go home to bed.” - The little ones leaped and shouted and laughed; - And all the hills echoèd. - - _William Blake_ - - - - - TO A MOUSE - - (_On Turning Up Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785_) - - - Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie, - O, what a panic’s in thy breastie! - Thou need na start awa’ sae hasty, - Wi’ bickering brattle! - I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee, - Wi’ murd’ring pattle! - - I’m truly sorry man’s dominion - Has broken Nature’s social union, - An’ justifies that ill opinion, - Which makes thee startle - At me, thy poor, earth-born companion, - An’ fellow-mortal! - - I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve; - What then? poor beastie, thou maun live! - A daimen icker in a thrave - ’S a sma’ request; - I’ll get a blessin’ wi’ the lave, - And never miss’t! - - Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin! - Its silly wa’s the win’s are strewin’! - An’ naething, now, to big a new ane, - O’ foggage green! - An’ bleak December’s wind ensuin’, - Baith snell an’ keen! - - Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste, - An’ weary winter comin’ fast, - An’ cozie here, beneath the blast, - Thou thought to dwell,-- - Till, crash! the cruel coulter passed - Out through thy cell. - - That wee bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble - Has cost thee mony a weary nibble! - Now thou’s turned out, for a’ thy trouble, - But house or hald, - To thole the winter’s sleety dribble, - An cranreuch cauld! - - But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane, - In proving foresight may be vain: - The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men, - Gang aft a-gley, - An’ lea’e us naught but grief an’ pain, - For promised joy! - - Still thou art blest, compared wi’ me! - The present only toucheth thee: - But, och! I backward cast my e’e - On prospects drear! - An’ forward, though I canna see, - I guess an’ fear! - - _Robert Burns_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE FAIRIES - - [Illustration] - - - 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 gray - 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 lake, - On a bed of flag-leaves, - Watching till she wake. - - By the craggy hill-side, - Through the mosses bare, - They have planted thorn-trees - For pleasure here and there. - If any man so daring - As dig them 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; - - [Illustration] - - Wee folk, good folk, - Trooping all together; - Green jacket, red cap, - And white owl’s feather. - - _William Allingham_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI - - - O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, - Alone and palely loitering? - The sedge has withered from the lake, - And no birds sing. - - O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms - So haggard and so woe-begone? - The squirrel’s granary is full, - And the harvest’s done. - - I see a lily on thy brow - With anguish moist and fever-dew, - And on thy cheeks a fading rose - Fast withereth too. - - I met a lady in the meads, - Full beautiful--a faery’s child, - Her hair was long, her foot was light, - And her eyes were wild. - - I made a garland for her head, - And bracelets too, and fragrant zone; - She looked at me as she did love, - And made sweet moan. - - I set her on my pacing steed - And nothing else saw all day long, - - [Illustration] - - For sideways would she bend, and sing - A faery’s song. - - She found me roots of relish sweet, - And honey wild and manna-dew, - And sure in language strange she said, - “I love thee true.” - - She took me to her elfin grot, - And there she wept and sighed full sore; - And there I shut her wild, wild eyes - With kisses four. - - And there she lullèd me asleep, - And there I dreamed--Ah! woe betide! - The latest dream I ever dreamed - On the cold hill’s side. - - I saw pale kings and princes too, - Pale warriors, death-pale were they all: - They cried--“La belle dame sans merci - Hath thee in thrall!” - - I saw their starved lips in the gloam - With horrid warning gapèd wide, - And I awoke and found me here - On the cold hill’s side. - - And this is why I sojourn here - Alone and palely loitering, - Though the sedge is withered from the lake, - And no birds sing. - - _John Keats_ - - [Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - - - - SPRING - - - Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king; - Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring, - Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing, - Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! - - The palm and may make country houses gay, - Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day, - And we hear aye, birds tune this merry lay, - Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! - - The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet, - Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit, - In every street, these tunes our ears do greet, - Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo! - Spring! the sweet Spring! - - _Thomas Nashe_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - ‘I WANDERED LONELY’ - - - I wandered 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 stretched 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 - Out-did 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_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE GAY GOS-HAWK - - - “O well is me, my gay gos-hawk, - That you can speak and flee; - For you can carry a love-letter - To my true love frae me.” - - “O how can I carry a letter to her, - Or how should I her know? - I bear a tongue ne’er wi’ her spak’, - And eyes that ne’er her saw.” - - “The white o’ my love’s skin is white - As down o’ dove or maw; - The red o’ my love’s cheek is red - As blood that’s spilt on snaw. - - “When ye come to the castle, - Light on the tree of ash, - And sit ye there, and sing our loves - As she comes frae the mass. - - “Four and twenty fair ladies - Will to the mass repair; - And weel may ye my lady ken, - The fairest lady there.” - - When the gos-hawk flew to that castle, - He lighted on the ash; - And there he sat and sang their loves - As she came frae the mass. - - “Stay where ye be, my maidens a’, - And sip red wine anon, - Till I go to my west window - And hear a birdie’s moan.” - - She’s gane unto her west window, - The bolt she fainly drew; - And unto that lady’s white, white neck - The bird a letter threw. - - [Illustration] - - “Ye’re bidden to send your love a send, - For he has sent you twa; - And tell him where he may see you soon, - Or he cannot live ava.” - - “I send him the ring from my finger, - The garland off my hair, - I send him the heart that’s in my breast; - What would my love have mair? - And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland, - Ye’ll bid him wait for me there.” - - She hied her to her father dear - As fast as gang could she: - “I’m sick at the heart, my father dear; - An asking grant you me!” - “Ask ye na for that Scottish lord, - For him ye’ll never see!” - - “An asking, an asking, dear father!” she says, - “An asking grant you me; - That if I die in fair England, - In Scotland ye’ll bury me. - - “At the first kirk o’ fair Scotland, - Ye cause the bells be rung; - At the second kirk o’ fair Scotland, - Ye cause the mass be sung; - - “At the third kirk o’ fair Scotland, - Ye deal gold for my sake; - At the fourth kirk o’ fair Scotland, - O there ye’ll bury me at! - - “This is all my asking, father, - I pray ye grant it me!” - “Your asking is but small,” he said; - “Weel granted it shall be. - But why do ye talk o’ suchlike things? - For ye arena going to dee.” - - The lady’s gane to her chamber, - And a moanfu’ woman was she, - As gin she had ta’en a sudden brash, - And were about to dee. - - The lady’s gane to her chamber - As fast as she could fare; - And she has drunk a sleepy draught, - She mixed wi’ mickle care. - - She’s fallen into a heavy trance, - And pale and cold was she; - She seemed to be as surely dead - As any corpse could be. - - Out and spak’ an auld witch-wife, - At the fireside sat she: - “Gin she has killed herself for love, - I wot it weel may be: - - “But drap the het lead on her cheek, - And drap it on her chin. - And drap it on her bosom white, - And she’ll maybe speak again. - ’Tis much that a young lady will do - To her true love to win.” - - They drapped the het lead on her cheek, - They drapped it on her chin, - They drapped it on her bosom white, - But she spake none again. - - [Illustration] - - Her brothers they went to a room, - To make to her a bier; - The boards were a’ o’ cedar wood, - The edges o’ silver clear. - - Her sisters they went to a room, - To make to her a sark; - The cloth was a’ o’ the satin fine, - And the stitching silken-wark. - - “Now well is me, my gay gos-hawk, - That ye can speak and flee! - Come show me any love-tokens - That ye have brought to me.” - - “She sends ye her ring frae her finger white, - The garland frae her hair; - She sends ye the heart within her breast; - And what would ye have mair? - And at the fourth kirk o’ fair Scotland, - She bids ye wait for her there.” - - “Come hither, all my merry young men! - And drink the good red wine; - For we must on towards fair England - To free my love frae pine.” - - The funeral came into fair Scotland, - And they gart the bells be rung; - And when it came to the second kirk, - They gart the mass be sung. - - And when it came to the third kirk, - They dealt gold for her sake; - And when it came to the fourth kirk, - Her love was waiting thereat. - - At the fourth kirk in fair Scotland - Stood spearmen in a row; - And up and started her ain true love, - The chieftain over them a’. - - “Set down, set down the bier,” he says, - “Till I look upon the dead; - The last time that I saw her face, - Its color was warm and red.” - - He stripped the sheet from off her face - A little below the chin; - The lady then she opened her eyes, - And lookèd full on him. - - “O give me a shive o’ your bread, love, - O give me a cup o’ your wine! - Long have I fasted for your sake, - And now I fain would dine. - - “Gae hame, gae hame, my seven brothers, - Gae hame and blow the horn! - And ye may say that ye sought my skaith, - And that I hae gi’en ye the scorn. - - “I cam’ na here to bonny Scotland - To lie down in the clay; - But I cam’ here to bonny Scotland, - To wear the silks sae gay! - - “I cam’ na here to bonny Scotland, - Amang the dead to rest; - But I cam’ here to bonny Scotland - To the man that I lo’e best!” - - _Author Unknown_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - AN OLD SONG OF FAIRIES - - - Come, follow, follow me, - You, fairy elves that be: - Which circle on the greene, - Come, follow Mab your queene. - Hand in hand let’s dance around, - For this place is fairye ground. - - When mortals are at rest, - And snoring in their nest: - Unheard, and unespy’d, - Through key-holes we do glide; - Over tables, stools, and shelves, - We trip it with our fairy elves. - - And, if the house be foul - With platter, dish, or bowl, - Up stairs we nimbly creep, - And find the sluts asleep: - There we pinch their armes and thighes; - None escapes, nor none espies. - - But if the house be swept, - And from uncleanness kept, - We praise the household maid, - And duely she is paid: - For we use before we goe - To drop a tester in her shoe. - - Upon a mushroomes head - Our table-cloth we spread; - A grain of rye, or wheat, - Is manchet, which we eat; - Pearly drops of dew we drink - In acorn cups fill’d to the brink. - - The brains of nightingales, - With unctuous fat of snailes, - Between two cockles stew’d, - Is meat that’s easily chew’d; - Tailes of wormes, and marrow of mice, - Do make a dish, that’s wonderous nice. - - The grashopper, gnat, and fly, - Serve for our minstrelsie; - Grace said, we dance a while, - And so the time beguile: - And if the moon doth hide her head, - The gloe-worm lights us home to bed. - - On tops of dewie grasse - So nimbly do we passe, - The young and tender stalk - Ne’er bends when we do walk: - Yet in the morning may be seen - Where we the night before have been. - - _Author Unknown_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - MOON FOLLY - - (_The Song of Conn the Fool_) - - - I will go up the mountain after the Moon: - She is caught in a dead fir-tree. - Like a great pale apple of silver and pearl, - Like a great pale apple is she. - - I will leap and will catch her with quick cold hands - And carry her home in my sack. - I will set her down safe on the oaken bench - That stands at the chimney-back. - - And then I will sit by the fire all night, - And sit by the fire all day. - I will gnaw at the Moon to my heart’s delight - Till I gnaw her slowly away. - - And while I grow mad with the Moon’s cold taste - The World will beat at my door, - Crying “Come out!” and crying “Make haste, - And give us the Moon once more!” - - But I shall not answer them ever at all. - I shall laugh, as I count and hide - The great black beautiful Seeds of the Moon - In a flower-pot deep and wide. - - Then I shall lie down and go fast asleep, - Drunken with flame and aswoon. - But the seeds will sprout and the seeds will leap, - The subtle swift seeds of the Moon. - - And some day, all of the World that cries - And beats at my door shall see - A thousand moon-leaves spring from my thatch - On a wonderful white Moon-tree! - - Then each shall have Moons to his heart’s desire: - Apples of silver and pearl; - Apples of orange and copper fire - Setting his five wits aswirl! - - And then they will thank me, who mock me now, - “Wanting the Moon is he,”-- - Oh, I’m off to the mountain after the Moon, - Ere she falls from the dead fir-tree! - - _Fannie Stearns Gifford_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - STAR-TALK - - - “Are you awake, Gemelli, - This frosty night?” - “We’ll be awake till reveillé, - Which is Sunrise,” say the Gemelli, - “It’s no good trying to go to sleep: - If there’s wine to be got we’ll drink it deep, - But sleep is gone for to-night - But sleep is gone for to-night.” - - “Are you cold, too, poor Pleiads, - This frosty night?” - “Yes, and so are the Hyads: - See us cuddle and hug,” say the Pleiads, - “All six in a ring: it keeps us warm: - We huddle together like birds in a storm: - It’s bitter weather to-night, - It’s bitter weather to-night.” - - “What do you hunt, Orion, - This starry night?” - “The Ram, the Bull and the Lion, - And the Great Bear,” says Orion, - “With my starry quiver and beautiful belt - I am trying to find a good thick pelt - To warm my shoulders to-night, - To warm my shoulders to-night.” - - “Did you hear that, Great She-bear, - This frosty night?” - “Yes, he’s talking of stripping me bare - Of my own big fur,” says the She-bear, - “I’m afraid of the man and his terrible arrow: - The thought of it chills my bones to the marrow, - And the frost so cruel to-night! - And the frost so cruel to-night!” - - “How is your trade, Aquarius, - This frosty night?” - “Complaints is many and various - And my feet are cold,” says Aquarius, - “There’s Venus objects to Dolphin-scales, - And Mars to Crab-spawn found in my pails, - And the pump has frozen to-night, - And the pump has frozen to-night.” - - _Robert Graves_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - JIM JAY - - - Do diddle di do, - Poor Jim Jay - Got stuck fast - In Yesterday. - Squinting he was, - On cross-legs bent, - Never heeding - The wind was spent. - Round veered the weathercock, - The sun drew in-- - And stuck was Jim - Like a rusty pin.... - We pulled and we pulled - From seven till twelve, - Jim, too frightened - To help himself. - But all in vain. - The clock struck one, - And there was Jim - A little bit gone. - At half-past five - You scarce could see - A glimpse of his flapping - Handkerchee. - And when came noon, - And we climbed sky-high, - Jim was a speck - Slip-slipping by. - Come tomorrow, - The neighbours say, - He’ll be past crying for; - Poor Jim Jay. - - _Walter de la Mare_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE GHOSTS OF THE BUFFALOES - - - Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, - The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high, - The floor was a-tremble, the door was a-jar, - White fires, crimson fires, shone from afar. - I rushed to the door yard. The city was gone. - My home was a hut without orchard or lawn. - It was mud-smear and logs near a whispering stream, - Nothing else built by man could I see in my dream.... - Then ... - Ghost-kings came headlong, row upon row, - Gods of the Indians, torches aglow. - - They mounted the bear and the elk and the deer, - And eagles gigantic, aged and sere, - They rode long-horn cattle, they cried “A-la-la.” - They lifted the knife, the bow, and the spear, - They lifted ghost-torches from dead fires below, - The midnight made grand with the cry “A-la-la.” - The midnight made grand with a red-god charge, - A red-god show, - A red-god show, - “A-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la.” - - With bodies like bronze, and terrible eyes - Came the rank and the file, with catamount cries, - Gibbering, yipping, with hollow-skull clacks, - Riding white bronchos with skeleton backs, - Scalp-hunters, beaded and spangled and bad, - Naked and lustful and foaming and mad, - Flashing primeval demoniac scorn, - Blood-thirst and pomp amid darkness reborn, - Power and glory that sleep in the grass - While the winds and the snows and the great rains pass. - They crossed the gray river, thousands abreast, - They rode in infinite lines to the west, - Tide upon tide of strange fury and foam, - Spirits and wraiths, the blue was their home, - The sky was their goal where the star-flags are furled, - And on past those far golden splendors they whirled. - They burned to dim meteors, lost in the deep. - And I turned in dazed wonder, thinking of sleep. - - And the wind crept by - Alone, unkempt, unsatisfied, - The wind cried and cried-- - Muttered of massacres long past, - Buffaloes in shambles vast... - An owl said: “Hark, what is a-wing?” - I heard a cricket carolling, - I heard a cricket carolling, - I heard a cricket carolling. - - Then... - Snuffing the lightning that crashed from on high - Rose royal old buffaloes, row upon row. - The lords of the prairie came galloping by. - And I cried in my heart “A-la-la, a-la-la, - A red-god show, - A red-god show, - A-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la.” - - Buffaloes, buffaloes, thousands abreast, - A scourge and amazement, they swept to the west. - With black bobbing noses, with red rolling tongues, - Coughing forth steam from their leather-wrapped lungs, - Cows with their calves, bulls big and vain, - Goring the laggards, shaking the mane, - Stamping flint feet, flashing moon eyes, - Pompous and owlish, shaggy and wise. - Like sea-cliffs and caves resounded their ranks - With shoulders like waves, and undulant flanks. - Tide upon tide of strange fury and foam, - Spirits and wraiths, the blue was their home, - The sky was their goal where the star-flags are furled, - And on past those far golden splendors they whirled. - They burned to dim meteors, lost in the deep, - And I turned in dazed wonder, thinking of sleep. - - I heard a cricket’s cymbals play, - A scarecrow lightly flapped his rags, - And a pan that hung by his shoulder rang, - Rattled and thumped in a listless way, - And now the wind in the chimney sang, - The wind in the chimney, - The wind in the chimney, - The wind in the chimney, - Seemed to say:-- - “Dream, boy, dream, - If you anywise can. - To dream is the work - Of beast or man. - Life is the west-going dream-storm’s breath, - Life is a dream, the sigh of the skies, - The breath of the stars, that nod on their pillows - With their golden hair mussed over their eyes.” - The locust played on his musical wing, - Sang to his mate of love’s delight. - I heard the whippoorwill’s soft fret. - I heard a cricket carolling, - I heard a cricket carolling, - I heard a cricket say: “Good-night, good-night, - Good-night, good-night, ... good-night.” - - _Vachel Lindsay_ - - - - - A CHRISTMAS CAROL - - - In the bleak mid-winter - Frosty wind made moan, - Earth stood hard as iron, - Water like a stone; - Snow had fallen, snow on snow, - Snow on snow, - In the bleak mid-winter - Long ago. - - Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him - Nor earth sustain; - Heaven and earth shall flee away - When He comes to reign: - In the bleak mid-winter - A stable-place sufficed - The Lord God Almighty - Jesus Christ. - - Enough for Him, whom cherubim - Worship night and day, - A breastful of milk - And a mangerful of hay; - Enough for Him, whom angels - Fall down before, - The ox and ass and camel - Which adore. - - Angels and archangels - May have gathered there, - Cherubim and seraphim - Thronged the air; - But only His mother - In her maiden bliss - Worshipped the Beloved - With a kiss. - - What can I give Him, - Poor as I am? - If I were a shepherd - I would bring a lamb, - If I were a Wise Man - I would do my part,-- - Yet what I can I give Him, - Give my heart. - - _Christina Rossetti_ - - - - - ESCAPE AT BEDTIME - - - The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out - Through the blinds and the windows and bars; - And high overhead and all moving about, - There were thousands of millions of stars. - There ne’er were such thousands of leaves on a tree - Nor of people in church or the Park, - As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me, - And that glittered and winked in the dark. - - The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all, - And the star of the sailor, and Mars, - These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall - Would be half full of water and stars. - They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries, - And they soon had me packed into bed; - But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes, - And the stars going round in my head. - - _Robert Louis Stevenson_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE - - - Out of the hills of Habersham, - Down the valleys of Hall, - I hurry amain to reach the plain, - Run the rapid and leap the fall, - Split at the rock and together again, - Accept my bed, or narrow or wide, - And flee from folly on every side - With a lover’s pain to attain the plain - Far from the hills of Habersham, - Far from the valleys of Hall. - - All down the hills of Habersham, - All through the valleys of Hall, - The rushes cried _Abide, abide_, - The wilful waterweeds held me thrall, - The laving laurel turned my tide, - The ferns and the fondling grass said _Stay_, - The dewberry dipped for to work delay, - And the little reeds sighed _Abide, abide, - Here in the hills of Habersham, - Here in the valleys of Hall._ - - High o’er the hills of Habersham, - Veiling the valleys of Hall, - The hickory told me manifold - Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall - Wrought me her shadowy self to hold, - The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine, - Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign, - Said, _Pass not, so cold, these manifold - Deep shades of the hills of Habersham, - These glades in the valleys of Hall._ - - And oft in the hills of Habersham, - And oft in the valleys of Hall, - The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook-stone - Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl, - And many a luminous jewel lone - --Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist, - Ruby, garnet and amethyst-- - Made lures with the lights of streaming stone - In the clefts of the hills of Habersham, - In the beds of the valleys of Hall. - - But oh, not the hills of Habersham, - And oh, not the valleys of Hall - Avail: I am fain for to water the plain. - Downward the voices of Duty call-- - Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main. - The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn, - And a myriad flowers mortally yearn, - And the lordly main from beyond the plain - Calls o’er the hills of Habersham, - Calls through the valleys of Hall. - - _Sidney Lanier_ - - [Illustration] - - [Illustration] - - - - - SEA FEVER - - - I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, - And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by; - And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking, - And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking. - - I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide - Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied; - And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying, - And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying. - - I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gipsy life, - To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife; - And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover, - And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over. - - _John Masefield_ - - - - - “O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!” - - (_In Memory of Abraham Lincoln_) - - - O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, - The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won, - The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting, - While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring; - But O heart! heart! heart! - O the bleeding drops of red! - Where on the deck my Captain lies, - Fallen cold and dead. - - O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells; - Rise up--for you the flag is flung--for you the bugle trills, - For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths--for you the shores a-crowding, - For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning; - Here, Captain! dear father! - This arm beneath your head! - It is some dream that on the deck - You’ve fallen cold and dead. - - My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still, - My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will; - The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done, - From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won; - Exult, O shores! and ring, O bells! - But I, with mournful tread, - Walk the deck my Captain lies, - Fallen cold and dead. - - _Walt Whitman_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE SNOW - - - It sifts from leaden sieves, - It powders all the wood, - It fills with alabaster wool - The wrinkles of the road. - - It makes an even face - Of mountain and of plain,-- - Unbroken forehead from the east - Unto the east again. - - It reaches to the fence, - It wraps it, rail by rail, - Till it is lost in fleeces; - It flings a crystal veil - - On stump and stack and stem,-- - The summer’s empty room, - Acres of seams where harvests were, - Recordless, but for them. - - It ruffles wrists of posts, - As ankles of a queen,-- - Then stills its artisans like ghosts, - Denying they have been. - - _Emily Dickinson_ - - - - - A SONG FOR MY MOTHER: HER HANDS - - - My mother’s hands are cool and fair, - They can do anything. - Delicate mercies hide them there - Like flowers in the spring. - - When I was small and could not sleep, - She used to come to me, - And with my cheek upon her hand - How sure my rest would be. - - For everything she ever touched - Of beautiful or fine, - Their memories living in her hands - Would warm that sleep of mine. - - Her hands remember how they played - One time in meadow streams,-- - And all the flickering song and shade - Of water took my dreams. - - Swift through her haunted fingers pass - Memories of garden things;-- - I dipped my face in flowers and grass - And sounds of hidden wings. - - One time she touched the cloud that kissed - Brown pastures bleak and far;-- - I leaned my cheek into a mist - And thought I was a star. - - All this was very long ago - And I am grown; but yet - The hand that lured my slumber so - I never can forget. - - For still when drowsiness comes on - It seems so soft and cool, - Shaped happily beneath my cheek, - Hollow and beautiful. - - _Anna Hempstead Branch_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE FOUNTAIN - - - Into the sunshine, - Full of the light, - Leaping and flashing - From morn till night! - - Into the moonlight, - Whiter than snow, - Waving so flower-like - When the winds blow! - - Into the starlight, - Rushing in spray, - Happy at midnight, - Happy by day! - - Ever in motion, - Blithesome and cheery. - Still climbing heavenward, - Never aweary;-- - - Glad of all weathers, - Still seeming best, - Upward or downward, - Motion thy rest;-- - - Full of a nature - Nothing can tame, - Changed every moment, - Ever the same;-- - - Ceaseless aspiring, - Ceaseless content, - Darkness or sunshine - Thy element;-- - - Glorious fountain! - Let my heart be - Fresh, changeful, constant, - Upward, like thee! - - _James Russell Lowell_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - NATURE’S FRIEND - - - Say what you like, - All things love me! - I pick no flowers-- - That wins the Bee. - - The Summer’s Moths - Think my hand one-- - To touch their wings-- - With Wind and Sun. - - The garden Mouse - Comes near to play; - Indeed, he turns - His eyes away. - - The Wren knows well - I rob no nest: - When I look in, - She still will rest. - - The hedge stops Cows, - Or they would come - After my voice - Right to my home. - - The Horse can tell, - Straight from my lip, - My hand could not - Hold any whip. - - Say what you like, - All things love me! - Horse, Cow, and Mouse, - Bird, Moth and Bee. - - _William H. Davies_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - TREE-TOAD - - - Tree-toad is a small gray person - With a silver voice. - Tree-toad is a leaf-gray shadow - That sings. - Tree-toad is never seen - Unless a star squeezes through the leaves, - Or a moth looks sharply at a gray branch. - How would it be, I wonder, - To sing patiently all night, - Never thinking that people are asleep? - Raindrops and mist, starriness over the trees, - The moon, the dew, the other little singers, - Cricket ... toad ... leaf rustling.... - They would listen: - It would be music like weather - That gets into all the corners - Of out-of-doors. - - Every night I see little shadows - I never saw before. - Every night I hear little voices - I never heard before. - When night comes trailing her starry cloak, - I start out for slumberland, - With tree-toads calling along the roadside. - _Good-night_, I say to one, _Good-by_, I say to another, - _I hope to find you on the way - We have traveled before! - I hope to hear you singing on the Road of Dreams!_ - - _Hilda Conkling_ - (Six years old) - - [Illustration] - - - - - AN ANCIENT CHRISTMAS CAROL - - - He came all so still - Where His mother was, - As dew in April - That falleth on the grass. - - He came all so still - Where His mother lay, - As dew in April - That falleth on the spray. - - He came all so still - To His mother’s bower, - As dew in April - That falleth on the flower. - - Mother and maiden - Was never none but she! - Well might such a lady - God’s mother be. - - _Author Unknown_ - - - - - [Illustration] - - AN OLD CHRISTMAS CAROL - - - As Joseph was a-waukin’, - He heard an angel sing, - “This night shall be the birthnight - Of Christ our heavenly King. - - “His birth-bed shall be neither - In housen nor in hall, - Nor in the place of paradise, - But in the oxen’s stall. - - “He neither shall be rockèd - In silver nor in gold, - But in the wooden manger - That lieth in the mould. - - “He neither shall be washen - With white wine nor with red, - But with the fair spring water - That on you shall be shed. - - “He neither shall be clothèd - In purple nor in pall, - But in the fair, white linen - That usen babies all.” - - As Joseph was a-waukin’, - Thus did the angel sing, - And Mary’s son at midnight - Was born to be our King. - - Then be you glad, good people, - At this time of the year; - And light you up your candles, - For His star it shineth clear. - - _Author Unknown_ - - - - - KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY - - - An ancient story I’ll tell you anon - Of a notable prince that was called King John; - And he rulèd England with main and with might, - For he did great wrong, and maintained little right. - - And I’ll tell you a story, a story so merry, - Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury; - How for his house-keeping and high renown, - They rode post for him to fair London town. - - An hundred men the king did hear say, - The abbot kept in his house every day; - And fifty gold chains without any doubt, - In velvet coats waited the abbot about. - - “How now, father abbot, I hear it of thee, - Thou keepest a far better house than me; - And for thy house-keeping and high renown, - I fear thou work’st treason against my own crown.” - - “My liege,” quo’ the abbot, “I would it were known - I never spend nothing, but what is my own; - And I trust your grace will do me no deere, - For spending of my own true-gotten gear.” - - “Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is high, - And now for the same thou needest must die; - For except thou canst answer me questions three, - Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodie. - - “And first,” quo’ the king, “when I’m in this stead, - With my crown of gold so fair on my head, - Among all my liege-men so noble of birth, - Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worth. - - “Secondly, tell me, without any doubt, - How soon I may ride the whole world about; - And at the third question, thou must not shrink, - But tell me here truly what I do think.” - - “O these are hard questions for my shallow wit, - Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet: - But if you will give me but three weeks’ space, - I’ll do my endeavor to answer your grace.” - - “Now three weeks’ space to thee will I give, - And that is the longest time thou hast to live; - For if thou dost not answer my questions three, - Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to me.” - - [Illustration] - - - Away rode the abbot all sad at that word, - And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford; - But never a doctor there was so wise, - That could with his learning an answer devise. - - Then home rode the abbot of comfort so cold, - And he met his shepherd a-going to fold: - “How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home; - What news do you bring us from good King John?” - - “Sad news, sad news, shepherd, I must give, - That I have but three days more to live; - For if I do not answer him questions three, - My head will be smitten from my bodie. - - “The first is to tell him there in that stead, - With his crown of gold so fair on his head, - Among all his liege-men so noble of birth, - To within one penny of what he is worth. - - “The second, to tell him without any doubt, - How soon he may ride this whole world about; - And at the third question I must not shrink, - But tell him there truly what he does think.” - - “Now cheer up, sire abbot, did you never hear yet - That a fool he may learn a wise man wit? - Lend me horse, and serving-men, and your apparel, - And I’ll ride to London to answer your quarrel. - - “Nay, frown not, if it hath been told unto me, - I am like your lordship, as ever may be; - And if you will but lend me your gown, - There is none shall know us at fair London town.” - - “Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have, - With sumptuous array most gallant and brave, - With crozier and mitre, and rochet, and cope, - Fit to appear ’fore our Father the Pope.” - - “Now welcome, sire abbot,” the king he did say, - “’Tis well thou’rt come back to keep thy day: - For and if thou canst answer my questions three, - Thy life and thy living both savèd shall be. - - “And first, when thou seest me here in this stead, - With my crown of gold so fair on my head, - Among all my liege-men so noble of birth, - Tell me to one penny what I am worth.” - - “For thirty pence our Saviour was sold - Among the false Jews, as I have been told, - And twenty-nine is the worth of thee, - For I think thou art one penny worser than he.” - - [Illustration] - - - The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel, - “I did not think I had been worth so little! - --Now secondly tell me, without any doubt, - How soon I may ride this whole world about.” - - “You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same - Until the next morning he riseth again; - And then your grace need not make any doubt - But in twenty-four hours you’ll ride it about.” - - The king he laughed, and swore by St. Jone, - “I did not think it could be done so soon! - --Now from the third question thou must not shrink, - But tell me here truly what I do think.” - - “Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry; - You think I’m the Abbot of Canterbury; - But I’m his poor shepherd, as plain you may see, - That am come to beg pardon for him and for me.” - - The king he laughed and swore by the Mass, - “I’ll make thee lord abbot this day in this place!” - “Now nay, my liege, be not in such speed, - For alack I can neither write nor read.” - - “Four nobles a week, then, I will give thee, - For this merry jest thou hast shown unto me; - And tell the old abbot when thou comest home, - Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John.” - - _Author Unknown_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - 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. - - “Oh! 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 on 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_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - SISTER, AWAKE! - - (_Old English Song_) - - - Sister, awake! close not your eyes! - The day her light discloses, - And the bright morning doth arise - Out of her bed of roses. - - See the clear sun, the world’s bright eye, - In at our window peeping: - Lo, how he blusheth to espy - Us idle wenches sleeping! - - Therefore awake! make haste, I say, - And let us, without staying, - All in our gowns of green so gay - Into the Park a-maying! - - _Author Unknown_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - THE SKELETON IN ARMOR - - - “Speak! speak! thou fearful guest! - Who, with thy hollow breast - Still in rude armor dressed, - Comest to daunt me! - Wrapped not in Eastern balms, - But with thy fleshless palms - Stretched, as if asking alms, - Why dost thou haunt me?” - - Then, from those cavernous eyes - Pale flashes seemed to rise, - As when the Northern skies - Gleam in December; - And, like the water’s flow - Under December’s snow, - Came a dull voice of woe - From the heart’s chamber. - - “I was a Viking old! - My deeds, though manifold, - No Skald in song has told, - No Saga taught thee! - Take heed, that in thy verse - Thou dost the tale rehearse, - Else dread a dead man’s curse - For this I sought thee. - - “Far in the Northern Land, - By the wild Baltic’s strand, - I with my childish hand, - Tamed the gerfalcon; - And, with my skates fast-bound, - Skimmed the half-frozen Sound, - That the poor whimpering hound - Trembled to walk on. - - “Oft to his frozen lair - Tracked I the grisly bear, - While from my path the hare - Fled like a shadow; - Oft through the forest dark - Followed the were-wolf’s bark, - Until the soaring lark - Sang from the meadow. - - “But when I older grew, - Joining a corsair’s crew, - O’er the dark sea I flew - With the marauders. - Wild was the life we led; - Many the souls that sped, - Many the hearts that bled, - By our stern orders. - - “Many a wassail-bout - Wore the long Winter out; - Often our midnight shout - Set the cocks crowing, - As we the Berserk’s tale - Measured in cups of ale, - Draining the oaken pail, - Filled to o’erflowing. - - “Once as I told in glee - Tales of the stormy sea, - Soft eyes did gaze on me, - Burning yet tender; - And as the white stars shine - On the dark Norway pine, - On that dark heart of mine - Fell their soft splendor. - - “I wooed the blue-eyed maid, - Yielding, yet half afraid, - And in the forest’s shade - Our vows were plighted. - Under its loosened vest - Fluttered her little breast, - Like birds within their nest - By the hawk frighted. - - “Bright in her father’s hall - Shields gleamed upon the wall, - Loud sang the minstrels all, - Chanting his glory; - When of old Hildebrand - I asked his daughter’s hand, - Mute did the minstrels stand - To hear my story. - - “While the brown ale he quaffed, - Loud then the champion laughed, - And as the wind-gusts waft - The sea-foam brightly, - So the loud laugh of scorn, - Out of those lips unshorn, - From the deep drinking-horn - Blew the foam lightly. - - “She was a Prince’s child, - I but a Viking wild, - And though she blushed and smiled, - I was discarded! - Should not the dove so white - Follow the sea-mew’s flight, - Why did they leave that night - Her nest unguarded? - - “Scarce had I put to sea, - Bearing the maid with me, - Fairest of all was she - Among the Norsemen! - When on the white sea-strand, - Waving his armèd hand, - Saw we old Hildebrand, - With twenty horsemen. - - “Then launched they to the blast, - Bent like a reed each mast, - Yet we were gaining fast, - When the wind failed us; - And with a sudden flaw - Came round the gusty Skaw, - So that our foe we saw - Laugh as he hailed us. - - “And as to catch the gale - Round veered the flapping sail, - ‘Death!’ was the helmsman’s hail, - ‘Death without quarter!’ - Mid-ships with iron keel - Struck we her ribs of steel; - Down her black hulk did reel - Through the black water! - - “As with his wings aslant, - Sails the fierce cormorant, - Seeking some rocky haunt, - With his prey laden,-- - So toward the open main, - Beating to sea again, - Through the wild hurricane, - Bore I the maiden. - - “Three weeks we westward bore, - And when the storm was o’er, - Cloud-like we saw the shore - Stretching to leeward; - There for my lady’s bower - Built I the lofty tower, - Which, to this very hour, - Stands looking seaward. - - “There lived we many years; - Time dried the maiden’s tears; - She had forgot her fears, - She was a mother; - Death closed her mild blue eyes, - Under that tower she lies; - Ne’er shall the sun arise - On such another! - - “Still grew my bosom then, - Still as a stagnant fen! - Hateful to me were men, - The sunlight hateful! - In the vast forest here, - Clad in my warlike gear, - Fell I upon my spear, - Oh, death was grateful! - - “Thus, seamed with many scars, - Bursting these prison bars, - Up to its native stars - My soul ascended! - There from the flowing bowl - Deep drinks the warrior’s soul, - _Skoal!_ to the Northland! _skoal!_” - Thus the tale ended. - - _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - BY BENDEMEER’S STREAM - - - 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 wither’d that hung o’er the wave, - But some blossoms were gather’d while freshly they shone, - And a dew was distill’d 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_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - A PRAYER - - - Teach me, Father, how to go - Softly as the grasses grow; - Hush my soul to meet the shock - Of the wild world as a rock; - But my spirit, propt with power, - Make as simple as a flower. - Let the dry heart fill its cup, - Like a poppy looking up; - Let life lightly wear her crown, - Like a poppy looking down. - - Teach me, Father, how to be - Kind and patient as a tree. - Joyfully the crickets croon - Under shady oak at noon; - Beetle, on his mission bent, - Tarries in that cooling tent. - Let me, also, cheer a spot, - Hidden field or garden grot-- - Place where passing souls can rest - On the way and be their best. - - _Edwin Markham_ - - - - - YOUNG LOCHINVAR - - - O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West! - Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; - And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none; - He rode all unarm’d, 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 Eske 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 enter’d the Netherby Hall, - Among bridesmen, 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 woo’d 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 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 whispered, ‘’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; - 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 lea, - 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_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - OFF THE GROUND - - - Three jolly Farmers - Once bet a pound - Each dance the others would - Off the ground. - Out of their coats - They slipped right soon, - And neat and nicesome - Put each his shoon. - One--Two--Three!-- - And away they go, - Not too fast, - And not too slow; - Out from the elm-tree’s - Noonday shadow, - Into the sun - And across the meadow. - Past the schoolroom, - With knees well bent - Fingers a-flicking, - They dancing went. - Up sides and over, - And round and round, - They crossed click-clacking, - The Parish bound, - By Tupman’s meadow - They did their mile, - Tee-to-tum - On a three-barred stile. - Then straight through Whipham, - Downhill to Week, - Footing it lightsome, - But not too quick, - Up fields to Watchet, - And on through Wye, - Till seven fine churches - They’d seen skip by-- - Seven fine churches, - And five old mills, - Farms in the valley, - And sheep on the hills; - Old Man’s Acre - And Dead Man’s Pool - All left behind, - As they danced through Wool. - And Wool gone by, - Like tops that seem - To spin in sleep - They danced in dream: - Withy--Wellover-- - Wassop--Wo-- - Like an old clock - Their heels did go. - A league and a league - And a league they went, - - [Illustration] - - And not one weary, - And not one spent. - And lo, and behold! - Past Willow-cum-Leigh - Stretched with its waters - The great green sea. - Says Farmer Bates, - “I puffs and I blows, - What’s under the water, - Why, no man knows!” - Says Farmer Giles, - “My wind comes weak, - And a good man drownded - Is far to seek.” - But Farmer Turvey, - On twirling toes - Up’s with his gaiters, - And in he goes: - Down where the mermaids - Pluck and play - On their twangling harps - In a sea-green day; - Down where the mermaids, - Finned and fair, - Sleek with their combs - Their yellow hair.... - Bates and Giles-- - On the shingle sat, - Gazing at Turvey’s - Floating hat. - But never a ripple - Nor bubble told - Where he was supping - Off plates of gold. - Never an echo - Rilled through the sea - Of the feasting and dancing - And minstrelsy. - They called--called--called: - Came no reply: - Nought but the ripples’ - Sandy sigh. - Then glum and silent - They sat instead, - Vacantly brooding - On home and bed, - Till both together - Stood up and said:-- - “Us knows not, dreams not, - Where you be, - Turvey, unless - In the deep blue sea; - But excusing silver-- - And it comes most willing-- - Here’s us two paying - Our forty shilling; - For it’s sartin sure, Turvey, - Safe and sound, - You danced us square, Turvey, - Off the ground!” - - _Walter de la Mare_ - - [Illustration] - - - - - AULD DADDY DARKNESS - - - Auld Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole, - Black as a blackamoor, blin’ as a mole: - Stir the fire till it lowes, let the bairnie sit, - Auld Daddy Darkness is no wantit yit. - - See him in the corners hidin’ frae the licht, - See him at the window gloomin’ at the nicht; - Turn up the gas licht, close the shutters a’, - An’ Auld Daddy Darkness will flee far awa’. - - Awa’ to hide the birdie within its cosy nest, - Awa’ to lap the wee flooers on their mither’s breast, - Awa’ to loosen Gaffer Toil frae his daily ca’, - For Auld Daddy Darkness is kindly to a’. - - He comes when we’re weary to wean’s frae oor waes, - He comes when the bairnies are getting aff their claes; - To cover them sae cosy, an’ bring bonnie dreams, - So Auld Daddy Darkness is better than he seems. - - Steek yer een, my wee tot, ye’ll see Daddy then; - He’s in below the bed claes, to cuddle ye he’s fain; - Noo nestle to his bosie, sleep and dream yer fill, - Till Wee Davie Daylight comes keekin’ owre the hill. - - _James Ferguson_ - -[Illustration] - - - ALLINGHAM, WILLIAM (1824-1889) - -_The Fairies, 162_ -_The Lepracaun, 40_ - - ARNOLD, MATTHEW (1822-1888) - -_The Forsaken Merman, 152_ - - - BLAKE, WILLIAM (1757-1827) - -_Nurse’s Song, 158_ -_The Tiger, 98_ - - BRANCH, ANNA HEMPSTEAD (18-) - -_A Song for My Mother, 215_ - - BROWNING, ROBERT (1812-1889) - -_The Pied Piper of Hamelin, 109_ -_Song (“The Year’s at the Spring”), 36_ - - BUNYAN, JOHN (1628-1688) - -_The Pilgrim, 76_ - - BURNS, ROBERT (1759-1796) - -_Bannockburn, 138_ -_To a Mouse, 159_ - - BYRON, LORD (1788-1824) - -_The Destruction of Sennacherib, 92_ - - - COLERIDGE, SAMUEL TAYLOR (1772-1834) - -_Kubla Khan, 19_ - - COLUM, PADRAIC (1881-) - -_The Terrible Robber Men, 100_ - - CONKLING, HILDA (1910-) - -_Tree-Toad, 223_ - - COWPER, WILLIAM (1731-1800) - -_Epitaph on a Hare, 73_ - - CUNNINGHAM, ALLAN (1784-1842) - -_A Sea Song, 72_ - - - DAVIES, WILLIAM H. (1870-) - -_Nature’s Friend, 221_ - - DE LA MARE, WALTER (1873-) - -_Berries, 24_ -_Jim Jay, 197_ -_Off the Ground, 249_ - - DICKINSON, EMILY (1830-1886) - -_The Snow, 214_ - - DOBELL, SYDNEY (1824-1874) - -_A Chanted Calendar, 143_ - - - EMERSON, RALPH WALDO (1803-1882) - -_Fable, 140_ - - - FERGUSON, JAMES (?) - -_Auld Daddy Darkness, 256_ - - FROST, ROBERT (1875-) - -_Good Hours, 141_ - - - GIFFORD, FANNIE STEARNS (1884-) - -_Moon Folly, 189_ - - GRAVES, ROBERT (1895-) - -_Star-Talk, 193_ - - - HERRICK, ROBERT (1591-1674) - -_To Violets, 38_ - - HODGSON, RALPH (about 1879-) - -_“Time, you Old Gipsy Man,” 124_ - - HOWE, JULIA WARD (1819-1910) - -_Battle Hymn of the Republic, 133_ - - HUNT, LEIGH (1784-1859) - -_Jaffár, 87_ - - - JONSON, BEN (1574-1637) - -_Hymn to Diana, 59_ - - - KEATS, JOHN (1795-1821) - -_La Belle Dame Sans Merci, 168_ -_Meg Merrilies, 22_ - - KINGSLEY, CHARLES (1819-1875) - -_The Sands of Dee, 234_ - - - LANIER, SIDNEY (1842-1881) - -_Song of the Chattahoochee, 206_ - - LINDSAY, VACHEL (1879-) - -_The Ghosts of the Buffaloes, 199_ - - LONGFELLOW, HENRY WADSWORTH (1807-1882) - -_My Lost Youth, 130_ -_The Skeleton in Armor, 237_ - - LOWELL, JAMES RUSSELL (1819-1891) - -_The Fountain, 217_ - - - MACAULAY, THOMAS BABINGTON (1800-1859) - -_Ivry, 94_ - - MARKHAM, EDWIN (1852-) - -_A Prayer, 245_ - - MARLOWE, CHRISTOPHER (1562-1593) - -_The Shepherd to His Love, 62_ - - MASEFIELD, JOHN (1874-) - -_Sea Fever, 211_ - - MILTON, JOHN (1608-1674) - -_On May Morning, 39_ - - MOORE, THOMAS (1780-1852) - -_By Bendemeer’s Stream, 244_ -_The Minstrel-Boy, 137_ - - - NASHE, THOMAS (1567-1601?) - -_Spring, 175_ - - NOYES, ALFRED (1880-) - -_A Song of Sherwood, 89_ - - - POE, EDGAR ALLAN (1809-1849) - -_Israfel, 82_ - - - ROSSETTI, CHRISTINA (1830-1894) - -_A Christmas Carol, 203_ - - - SCOTT, SIR WALTER (1771-1832) - -_Gathering Song of Donald Dhu, 135_ -_Hunting Song, 44_ -_Young Lochinvar, 246_ - - SHAKESPEARE, WILLIAM (1564-1616) - -_“Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind,” 108_ -_Lullaby for Titania, 78_ -_“Under the Greenwood Tree” 37_ -_Winter, 142_ - - SHELLEY, PERCY BYSSHE (1792-1822) - -_Hymn of Pan, 29_ -_The Cloud, 145_ - - STEVENSON, ROBERT LOUIS (1850-1894) - -_Escape at Bedtime, 205_ -_Romance, 28_ - - SWINBURNE, ALGERNON CHARLES (1837-1909) - -_“When the Hounds of Spring,” 32_ - - - TENNYSON, ALFRED (1809-1892) - -_Bugle Song, 151_ -_The Lady of Shalott, 46_ - - - UNKNOWN - -_An Ancient Christmas Carol, 225_ -_An Old Christmas Carol, 226_ -_An Old Song of Fairies, 186_ -_King John and the Abbot of Canterbury, 228_ -_Robin Hood and the Butcher, 64_ -_Sir Patrick Spens, 101_ -_Sister, Awake! 236_ -_The Gay Gos-Hawk, 178_ - - - WHITMAN, WALT (1819-1892) - -_O Captain! My Captain! 212_ - - WORDSWORTH, WILLIAM (1770-1850) - -_“I Wandered Lonely,” 176_ -_The Solitary Reaper, 128_ -_Written in March, 31_ - - - YEATS, WILLIAM BUTLER (1865-) - -_The Song of Wandering Aengus, 60_ - - - - -INDEX OF FIRST LINES - - -A wet sheet and a flowing sea, 72 - -An ancient story I’ll tell you anon, 228 - -“Are you awake, Gemelli, 193 - -As Joseph was a-waukin’, 226 - -Auld Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole, 256 - - -Behold her, single in the field, 128 - -Blow, blow, thou winter wind, 108 - - -Come, all you brave gallants, and listen a while, 64 - -Come, dear children, let us away, 152 - -Come, follow, follow me, 186 - -Come live with me and be my love, 62 - - -Do diddle di do, 197 - - -First came the primrose, 143 - -From the forests and highlands, 29 - - -Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick, 109 - -He came all so still, 225 - -Here lies, whom hound did ne’er pursue, 73 - - -I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, 145 - -I had for my winter evening walk, 141 - -I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, 211 - -I wandered lonely as a cloud, 176 - -I went out to the hazel wood, 60 - -I will go up the mountain after the Moon, 189 - -I will make you brooches and toys for your delight, 28 - -In Heaven a spirit doth dwell, 82 - -In the bleak mid-winter, 203 - -In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, 19 - -Into the sunshine, 217 - -It sifts from leaden sieves, 214 - - -Jaffár, the Barmecide, the good Vizier, 87 - - -Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, 199 - -Little Cowboy, what have you heard, 40 - - -Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, 133 - -My mother’s hands are cool and fair, 215 - - -Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are!, 94 - -Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger, 39 - - -O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, 212 - -O! I wish the sun was bright in the sky, 100 - -“O Mary, go and call the cattle home, 234 - -“O well is me, my gay gos-hawk, 178 - -O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, 168 - -O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West!, 246 - -Often I think of the beautiful town, 130 - -Old Meg she was a Gipsy, 22 - -On either side the river lie, 46 - -Out of the hills of Habersham, 206 - - -Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, 135 - - -Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair, 59 - - -Say what you like, 221 - -Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, 138 - -Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?, 89 - -Sister, awake! close not your eyes!, 236 - -“Speak! speak! thou fearful guest!, 237 - -Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king, 175 - - -Teach me, Father, how to go, 245 - -The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, 92 - -The Cock is crowing, 31 - -The king sits in Dunfermline toun, 101 - -The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out, 205 - -The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone, 137 - -The mountain and the squirrel, 140 - -The splendor falls on castle walls, 151 - -The year’s at the spring, 36 - -There was an old woman, 24 - -There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream, 244 - -Three jolly Farmers, 249 - -Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, 98 - -Time, you old gipsy man, 124 - -Tree-toad is a small gray person, 223 - - -Under the greenwood tree, 37 - -Up the airy mountain, 162 - - -Waken, lords and ladies gay!, 44 - -Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie, 159 - -Welcome, maids of honor, 38 - -When icicles hang by the wall, 142 - -When the hounds of spring are on winter’s traces, 32 - -When the voices of children are heard on the green, 158 - -Who would true valor see, 76 - - -You spotted snakes with double tongue, 78 - -*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAINBOW GOLD; POEMS OLD AND NEW -SELECTED FOR BOYS AND GIRLS *** - -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG-tm -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away--you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. - -START: FULL LICENSE - -THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK - -To protect the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg"), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg-tm License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. - -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the -person or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph -1.E.8. - -1.B. "Project Gutenberg" is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. - -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation ("the -Foundation" or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg-tm mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg-tm -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg-tm name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg-tm License when -you share it without charge with others. - -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg-tm work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. - -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: - -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg-tm License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg-tm work (any work -on which the phrase "Project Gutenberg" appears, or with which the -phrase "Project Gutenberg" is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: - - 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 will have to check the laws of the country where - you are located before using this eBook. - -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase "Project -Gutenberg" associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg-tm -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg-tm electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg-tm License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. - -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg-tm -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg-tm. - -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg-tm License. - -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg-tm work in a format -other than "Plain Vanilla ASCII" or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg-tm website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original "Plain -Vanilla ASCII" or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg-tm License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. - -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg-tm works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. - -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works -provided that: - -* You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg-tm works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, "Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation." - -* You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg-tm - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg-tm - works. - -* You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - -* You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm works. - -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg-tm trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. - -1.F. - -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg-tm collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain "Defects," such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. - -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the "Right -of Replacement or Refund" described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg-tm trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg-tm electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. - -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. - -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you 'AS-IS', WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. - -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. - -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg-tm -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg-tm work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg-tm work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. - -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg-tm - -Project Gutenberg-tm is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. - -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg-tm's -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg-tm collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg-tm and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at -www.gutenberg.org - -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation - -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation's EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state's laws. - -The Foundation's business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation's website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact - -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg -Literary Archive Foundation - -Project Gutenberg-tm depends upon and cannot survive without -widespread public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. - -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular -state visit www.gutenberg.org/donate - -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. - -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. - -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate - -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg-tm electronic works - -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg-tm concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. - -Project Gutenberg-tm eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. - -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: www.gutenberg.org - -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg-tm, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. diff --git a/old/67522-0.zip b/old/67522-0.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1724bed..0000000 --- a/old/67522-0.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h.zip b/old/67522-h.zip Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e2bd00b..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h.zip +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/67522-h.htm b/old/67522-h/67522-h.htm deleted file mode 100644 index d9bb74d..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/67522-h.htm +++ /dev/null @@ -1,7119 +0,0 @@ -<!DOCTYPE html PUBLIC "-//W3C//DTD XHTML 1.0 Strict//EN" -"http://www.w3.org/TR/xhtml1/DTD/xhtml1-strict.dtd"> - -<html xmlns="http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml" lang="en" xml:lang="en"> - <head> <link rel="icon" href="images/cover.jpg" type="image/x-cover" /> -<meta http-equiv="Content-Type" content="text/html;charset=UTF-8" /> -<title> - The Project Gutenberg eBook of Rainbow Gold, by Sara Teasdale. -</title> -<style type="text/css"> - -a:link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - - link {background-color:#ffffff;color:blue;text-decoration:none;} - -a:visited {background-color:#ffffff;color:purple;text-decoration:none;} - -a:hover {background-color:#ffffff;color:#FF0000;text-decoration:underline;} - -.big {font-size: 130%; -letter-spacing:.1em;} - -body{margin-left:4%;margin-right:6%;background:#ffffff;color:black;font-family:"Times New Roman", serif;font-size:medium;} - -.blockquott {margin:1em auto; -font-size:95%;} -.blockquott p{margin:.04em auto;} - -.c {text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - -.eng {font-family: "Old English Text MT",fantasy,sans-serif;} - -.figcenter {margin:3% auto 3% auto;clear:both; -text-align:center;text-indent:0%;} - - h1 {margin-top:5%;text-align:center;clear:both; -font-weight:normal;} - - h2,h3 {margin-top:4%;margin-bottom:2%;text-align:center;clear:both; - font-size:100%;font-weight:normal;} - - hr.full {width: 60%;margin:2% auto 2% auto;border-top:1px solid black; -padding:.1em;border-bottom:1px solid black;border-left:none;border-right:none;} - - img {border:none;} - -.indd {margin-left:3em;text-indent:0em;} - -.lftspc {margin-left:.25em;} - -.nind {text-indent:0%;} - -.nonvis {display:inline;} -.x-bookmaker .nonvis {display: none;} - @media print, handheld - {.nonvis - {display: none;} - } - - p {margin-top:.2em;text-align:justify;margin-bottom:.2em;text-indent:4%;} - -.pagenum {font-style:normal;position:absolute; -left:95%;font-size:55%;text-align:right;color:gray; -background-color:#ffffff;font-variant:normal;font-style:normal;font-weight:normal;text-decoration:none;text-indent:0em;} -.x-bookmaker .pagenum {display: none;} - -.pdd {padding-left:1em;text-indent:-1em; -font-variant:small-caps;font-size:100%;} - -.r {text-align:right;margin-right: 5%;} - -.rt {text-align:right;} - -small {font-size: 70%;} - -.smcap {font-variant:small-caps;font-size:100%;} - -table {margin:2% auto;border:none;} - -div.poetry {text-align:center;} -div.poem {font-size:100%;margin:auto auto;text-indent:0%; -display: inline-block; text-align: left;} -.poem .stanza {margin-top: 1em;margin-bottom:1em;} -.poem span.i0 {display: block; margin-left: 0em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i1 {display: block; margin-left: .45em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i2 {display: block; margin-left: 1em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i4 {display: block; margin-left: 3em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i5 {display: block; margin-left: 3.5em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i6 {display: block; margin-left: 4em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i8 {display: block; margin-left: 7em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -.poem span.i10 {display: block; margin-left: 8em; padding-left: 3em; text-indent: -3em;} -</style> - </head> -<body> -<p style='text-align:center; font-size:1.2em; font-weight:bold'>The Project Gutenberg eBook of Rainbow gold; poems old and new selected for boys and girls, by Sara Teasdale</p> -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you -are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws of the -country where you are located before using this eBook. -</div> - -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:1em; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Title: Rainbow gold; poems old and new selected for boys and girls</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Illustrator: Dugald Walker</p> -<p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em'>Compiler: Sara Teasdale</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Release Date: February 28, 2022 [eBook #67522]</p> -<p style='display:block; text-indent:0; margin:1em 0'>Language: English</p> - <p style='display:block; margin-top:1em; margin-bottom:0; margin-left:2em; text-indent:-2em; text-align:left'>Produced by: Charlene Taylor, Chuck Greif and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive/American Libraries.)</p> -<div style='margin-top:2em; margin-bottom:4em'>*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAINBOW GOLD; POEMS OLD AND NEW SELECTED FOR BOYS AND GIRLS ***</div> -<hr class="full" /> - -<p class="figcenter"> -<a href="images/cover.jpg"> -<img src="images/cover.jpg" -height="550" alt="[Image of -the book's cover unavailable.]" /></a> -</p> - -<div class="figcenter"> -<img src="images/end.jpg" width="450" height="234" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /> -</div> - -<table cellpadding="0" -style="border: 2px black solid;margin:auto auto;max-width:50%; -padding:1%;"> -<tr><td> - -<p class="c"><a href="#CONTENTS">Contents.</a></p> - -<p class="c"><a href="#ILLUSTRATIONS">List of Illustrations</a><br /> <span class="nonvis">(In certain versions of this etext [in certain browsers] -clicking on the image will bring up a larger version.)</span></p> -<p class="c"> -<a href="#INDEX_OF_AUTHORS">Index of Authors</a><br /> -<a href="#INDEX_OF_FIRST_LINES">Index of First Lines</a></p> -<p class="c">(etext transcriber's note)</p></td></tr> -</table> - -<h1>RAINBOW GOLD</h1> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 367px;"> -<img src="images/halftitle.png" width="367" height="296" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /> -<br /><br /><br /><br /> -<img src="images/colophon.png" -width="109" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /><br /> -THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> -NEW YORK · BOSTON · CHICAGO · DALLAS<br /> -ATLANTA · SAN FRANCISCO<br /> -<br /> -MACMILLAN & CO., <span class="smcap">Limited</span><br /> -LONDON · BOMBAY · CALCUTTA<br /> -MELBOURNE<br /> -<br /> -THE MACMILLAN CO. OF CANADA, <span class="smcap">Ltd.</span><br /> -TORONTO<br /> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_001" style="width: 417px;"> -<a href="images/frontis.jpg"> -<img src="images/frontis.jpg" width="417" height="562" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h1> -RAINBOW GOLD</h1> - -<p class="c"><span class="big">POEMS OLD AND NEW</span><br /> -SELECTED FOR BOYS AND GIRLS<br /> -<br /> -<span class="big"><span class="smcap">By</span> SARA TEASDALE</span><br /> -<br /> -WITH ILLUSTRATIONS<br /> -<br /><span class="big"> -<span class="smcap">By</span> DUGALD WALKER<br /></span> -<br /> -<img src="images/titlepage.png" width="166" height="130" -alt="[Image unavailable.]" /> -<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<span class="eng">NEW YORK</span><br /> -THE MACMILLAN COMPANY<br /> -1922<br /> -<br /><small> -<i>All rights reserved</i><br /> -<br /> -<br /> -Printed in the United States of America<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -<span class="smcap">Copyright</span>, 1922,<br /> -<span class="smcap">By</span> THE MACMILLAN CO.<br /> -<br /> -Set up and published September, 1922<br /> -<br /> -<br /> -CONDÉ NAST PRESS GREENWICH, CONN.</small><br /> -<br /> -<br /><b> -TO THE BEAUTIFUL MEMORY<br /> -OF MY FATHER<br /> -JOHN WARREN TEASDALE</b><br /> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_5" id="page_5">{5}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 352px;"> -<a href="images/image004.png"> -<img src="images/image004.png" width="352" height="115" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 113px;"> -<a href="images/image005.png"> -<img src="images/image005.png" width="113" height="84" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h2><a name="PREFATORY_NOTE" id="PREFATORY_NOTE"></a>PREFATORY NOTE</h2> - -<p>Every anthologist must adopt some plan for making selections. Mine has -been very simple. I have made a small collection of poems that would -have pleased the child I used to be and the boy who was my playmate. -Above all things I have striven to keep the book small, for the big -books of poetry on our shelves were always left to themselves. It was -the little books that became our intimate companions.</p> - -<p>To make a selection for boys and girls from the countless riches of -lyric poetry in our language, and to reduce that selection to the -contents of so small a book as this one, is a grave task. It involves -the exclusion on the grounds of mere lack of space, of so much that one -loves. I should have liked to make a book of this size containing only -Elizabethan songs and early English ballads, another entirely devoted to -Georgian and Victorian poets, a third to living writers, and a fourth to -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_6" id="page_6">{6}</a></span>child-rhymes, parodies, nonsense verses and the like. If the grown-up -reader regrets omissions, I beg him to be sympathetic toward the -compiler, who has been a prey to those same regrets constantly during -the year in which she has been at work on the book. Alas that a volume -cannot have the advantages of being both a big book and a little one at -the same time!</p> - -<p>In selecting the poems for the girl and boy who used to be, I have tried -always to read with their eyes. I have been guided from first to last by -their enjoyment or their boredom. The poems that they loved best had -highly accented rhythms, and took them into “a land of clear colors and -stories.” They enjoyed certain sad poems as much as merry ones, but -meditative, moralistic and gloomy poems were never read but once, if -they were read at all. And I am glad to say that poems full of -sentimentality fared no better. I have brought together much that has -been written since they were children, and boys and girls of to-day will -find among these poems many of the most enjoyable things in the book. To -mention only one recent poet that they would have loved, Walter de la -Mare, is to realize how much a child has missed who does not possess his -inimitable “Peacock Pie.”</p> - -<p>A child’s enjoyment, as I said above, is what I have striven for in this -collection. We who have seen how poetry has come to our rescue with its -delight, its healing, and its new courage in times of stress and sorrow, -know that it is an inestimable possession. We cannot come to the -knowledge of it too early. If we can have a clear personal realization -while we are children, that we love poetry, no amount of well-<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_7" id="page_7">{7}</a></span>meaning -but sometimes tactless and uninspired teaching of it in schools and -colleges can shake us in the knowledge of that love. I remember that the -first poem I was condemned to learn by heart in school was “The -Builders” by Longfellow. I say condemned, but it was not as a -punishment. Every child in the class had to learn it. It is one of the -poems that I am sure the poet himself would never have given to a child -to learn, beginning, as grown-up readers will remember:</p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“All are Architects of Fate<br /></span> -<span class="i1">Working in these walls of Time.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p class="nind">After committing the nine stanzas of this poem to memory, it took me a -long time to grow willing to read the stirring things that the same poet -has written, poems as interesting as this one is humdrum.</p> - -<p>But education is better managed now than then. Teachers and parents -alike have come to feel that the love of poetry in general is more to be -desired for children than the knowledge of certain “well known” poems, -no matter how good, or even how great, these poems may be. Besides a -more tactfully managed education in the schools, there are children’s -rooms in the public libraries. I have wished many times during the -months spent in making this book, when visits to these rooms were an -inspiration, that I might have browsed among the low shelves long ago in -childhood, and talked with the same delightful librarians. I should like -to express my thanks to these librarians, who have been so kind in -various<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_8" id="page_8">{8}</a></span> ways. I want especially to thank Annie Carroll Moore, -Supervisor of Work with Children in the New York Public Library, who -knows the heart of a child from long travelling on “The Roads to -Childhood.”</p> - -<p>In closing I shall quote briefly from the introduction by Andrew Lang to -his anthology for children, “The Blue Poetry Book,” for he speaks my own -thoughts better than I can express them: “It does not appear to the -Editor that poems about children, or especially intended for children, -are those which a child likes best. A child’s imaginative life is spent -in the unknown future, and in the romantic past.... The poems written -for and about children rather appeal to the old, whose own childhood is -now to them a distant fairy world, as the man’s life is to the child.... -We make a mistake when we ‘write down’ to children; still more do we err -when we tell a child not to read this or that because he cannot -understand it. He understands far more than we give him credit for, but -nothing that can harm him. The half-understanding of it, too, the sense -of a margin beyond, as in a wood full of unknown glades and birds and -flowers unfamiliar, is a great part of a child’s pleasure in reading.... -The child does not want everything to be explained. In the unexplained -is great pleasure.”</p> - -<p>A number of my friends have been kind in giving me the names of poems -that they liked best when they were children. The small compass of the -book has made it impossible to use all of the poems suggested in this -way, but it has been a pleasure to include as many of them as I could. I -want to<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_9" id="page_9">{9}</a></span> acknowledge very gratefully my indebtedness for counsel and -suggestions to John Gould Fletcher, Vachel Lindsay, Amy Lowell, Jessie -B. Rittenhouse, Louis Untermeyer, Jean Untermeyer, John Hall Wheelock -and Marguerite Wilkinson.</p> - -<p class="r"> -<span class="smcap">Sara Teasdale</span><br /> -</p> - -<p class="nind"> -<i>New York City, 1922</i><br /> -</p> - -<p class="rt"> -<a href="images/image009.png"> -<img src="images/image009.png" width="156" height="135" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_10" id="page_10">{10}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 258px;"> -<a href="images/image010.png"> -<img src="images/image010.png" width="258" height="447" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_11" id="page_11">{11}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 175px;"> -<a href="images/image011.png"> -<img src="images/image011.png" width="175" height="86" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ACKNOWLEDGMENTS" id="ACKNOWLEDGMENTS"></a>ACKNOWLEDGMENTS</h2> - -<p>Thanks are due the following publishers for permission to include the -poems enumerated below:</p> - -<div class="blockquott"><p>To Messrs. Constable & Co., for “Berries,” “Jim Jay,” and “Off the -Ground,” by Walter de la Mare.</p> - -<p>To Messrs. Doubleday, Page & Co., for “A Prayer,” by Edwin Markham, -and “O Captain! My Captain,” by Walt Whitman.</p> - -<p>To Messrs. Harper & Brothers for “When the Hounds of Spring,” by -Algernon Charles Swinburne.</p> - -<p>To Messrs. Henry Holt & Co., for “Good Hours,” by Robert Frost; and -“Berries,” “Jim Jay” and “Off the Ground” from “Peacock Pie,” by -Walter de la Mare.</p> - -<p>To Messrs. Houghton Mifflin Co., by whose permission and by special -arrangement with whom the following poems are included: “Fable,” by -Ralph Waldo Emerson; “The Fountain,” by James Russell Lowell; “My -Lost Youth,” and “The Skeleton in Armor,” by Henry Wadsworth -Longfellow; and “A Song for My Mother,” by Anna Hempstead Branch.</p> - -<p>To Mr. Alfred Knopf for “Nature’s Friend,” by William H. Davies.</p> - -<p>To Messrs. Little, Brown & Co., for “The Snow,” by Emily Dickinson.</p> - -<p>To The Macmillan Co., for “The Fairies,” and “The Lepracaun,” by -William Allingham; “The Forsaken Merman,” by Matthew Arnold; “The -Pied Piper of Hamelin,” and “Song: The Year’s at the Spring,” by -Robert Browning; “The Terrible Robber Men,” by Padraic Colum; “Moon -Folly,” by Fannie Stearns Gifford; “Time, You Old Gipsy Man,” by -Ralph Hodgson; “Sea Fever,” by John Masefield; “A Christmas<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_12" id="page_12">{12}</a></span> -Carol,” by Christina Rossetti; “The Song of Wandering Aengus,” by -William Butler Yeats; and “The Ghosts of the Buffaloes,” by Vachel -Lindsay.</p> - -<p>To Messrs. Macmillan & Co., for “The Fairies,” and “The Lepracaun,” -by William Allingham; “The Forsaken Merman,” by Matthew Arnold; and -“A Christmas Carol,” by Christina Rossetti.</p> - -<p>To The Poetry Bookshop for “Star-Talk,” by Robert Graves.</p> - -<p>To Messrs. Charles Scribner’s Sons for “Song of the Chattahoochee,” -by Sidney Lanier from “Poems of Sidney Lanier”; copyright 1884, -1891, 1918 by Mary D. Lanier, by permission of the publishers; and -“Escape at Bedtime,” and “Romance,” by Robert Louis Stevenson.</p> - -<p>To Messrs. Frederick A. Stokes Co., for “Tree-Toad,” by Hilda -Conkling; and “A Song of Sherwood,” by Alfred Noyes, from his -Collected Poems, Volume I.</p></div> - -<p>To the living poets who have generously allowed their poems to appear in -this book, the compiler expresses grateful thanks.</p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 100px;"> -<a href="images/image012.png"> -<img src="images/image012.png" width="100" height="153" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_13" id="page_13">{13}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 115px;"> -<a href="images/image013.png"> -<img src="images/image013.png" width="115" height="86" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h2><a name="CONTENTS" id="CONTENTS"></a>CONTENTS</h2> - -<table cellpadding="0"> -<tr><td colspan="2">  </td><td class="rt"><small>PAGE</small></td></tr> -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#KUBLA_KHAN">Kubla Khan</a></td><td><i>Samuel Taylor Coleridge</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_19">19</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MEG_MERRILIES">Meg Merrilies</a></td><td><i>John Keats</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_22">22</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BERRIES">Berries</a></td><td><i>Walter de la Mare</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_24">24</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ROMANCE">Romance</a></td><td><i>Robert Louis Stevenson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_28">28</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HYMN_OF_PAN">Hymn of Pan</a></td><td><i>Percy Bysshe Shelley</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_29">29</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WRITTEN_IN_MARCH">Written in March</a></td><td><i>William Wordsworth</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_31">31</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WHEN_THE_HOUNDS_OF_SPRING">“When the Hounds of Spring”</a></td><td><i>Algernon Charles Swinburne</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_32">32</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG">Song</a></td><td><i>Robert Browning</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_36">36</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#UNDER_THE_GREENWOOD_TREE">“Under the Greenwood Tree”</a></td><td><i>William Shakespeare</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_37">37</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_VIOLETS">To Violets</a></td><td><i>Robert Herrick</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_38">38</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ON_MAY_MORNING">On May Morning</a></td><td><i>John Milton</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_39">39</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_LEPRACAUN_OR_FAIRY_SHOEMAKER">The Lepracaun</a></td><td><i>William Allingham</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_40">40</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HUNTING_SONG">Hunting Song</a></td><td><i>Sir Walter Scott</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_44">44</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_LADY_OF_SHALOTT">The Lady of Shalott</a></td><td><i>Alfred Tennyson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_46">46</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#HYMN_TO_DIANA">Hymn to Diana</a></td><td><i>Ben Jonson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_59">59</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_SONG_OF_WANDERING_AENGUS">The Song of Wandering Aengus</a></td><td><i>William Butler Yeats</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_60">60</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_SHEPHERD_TO_HIS_LOVE">The Shepherd to His Love</a></td><td><i>Christopher Marlowe</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_62">62</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ROBIN_HOOD_AND_THE_BUTCHER">Robin Hood and the Butcher</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_64">64</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SEA_SONG">A Sea Song</a></td><td><i>Allan Cunningham</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_72">72</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#EPITAPH_ON_A_HARE">Epitaph on a Hare</a></td><td><i>William Cowper</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_73">73</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_PILGRIM">The Pilgrim</a></td><td><i>John Bunyan</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_76">76</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LULLABY_FOR_TITANIA">Lullaby for Titania</a></td><td><i>William Shakespeare</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_78">78</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ISRAFEL">Israfel</a></td><td><i>Edgar Allan Poe</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_82">82</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_14" id="page_14">{14}</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JAFFAR">Jaffár</a></td><td><i>Leigh Hunt</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_87">87</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SONG_OF_SHERWOOD">A Song of Sherwood</a></td><td><i>Alfred Noyes</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_89">89</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_DESTRUCTION_OF_SENNACHERIB">The Destruction of Sennacherib</a></td><td><i>Lord Byron</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_92">92</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#IVRY">Ivry</a></td><td><i>Thomas Babington Macaulay</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_94">94</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_TIGER">The Tiger</a></td><td><i>William Blake</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_98">98</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_TERRIBLE_ROBBER_MEN">The Terrible Robber Men</a></td><td><i>Padraic Colum</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_100">100</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SIR_PATRICK_SPENS">Sir Patrick Spens</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_101">101</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BLOW_BLOW_THOU_WINTER_WIND">“Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind”</a></td><td><i>William Shakespeare</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_108">108</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_PIED_PIPER_OF_HAMELIN">The Pied Piper of Hamelin</a></td><td><i>Robert Browning</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_109">109</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TIME_YOU_OLD_GIPSY_MAN">“Time, You Old Gipsy Man”</a></td><td><i>Ralph Hodgson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_124">124</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_SOLITARY_REAPER">The Solitary Reaper</a></td><td><i>William Wordsworth</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_128">128</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MY_LOST_YOUTH">My Lost Youth</a></td><td><i>Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_130">130</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BATTLE-HYMN_OF_THE_REPUBLIC">Battle Hymn of the Republic</a></td><td><i>Julia Ward Howe</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_133">133</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GATHERING_SONG_OF_DONALD_DHU">Gathering Song of Donald Dhu</a></td><td><i>Sir Walter Scott</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_135">135</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_MINSTREL-BOY">The Minstrel-Boy</a></td><td><i>Thomas Moore</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_137">137</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BANNOCKBURN">Bannockburn</a></td><td><i>Robert Burns</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_138">138</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#FABLE">Fable</a></td><td><i>Ralph Waldo Emerson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_140">140</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#GOOD_HOURS">Good Hours</a></td><td><i>Robert Frost</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_141">141</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#WINTER">Winter</a></td><td><i>William Shakespeare</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_142">142</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_CHANTED_CALENDAR">A Chanted Calendar</a></td><td><i>Sydney Dobell</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_143">143</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_CLOUD">The Cloud</a></td><td><i>Percy Bysshe Shelley</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_145">145</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BUGLE_SONG">Bugle Song</a></td><td><i>Alfred Tennyson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_151">151</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_FORSAKEN_MERMAN">The Forsaken Merman</a></td><td><i>Matthew Arnold</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_152">152</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#NURSES_SONG">Nurse’s Song</a></td><td><i>William Blake</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_158">158</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TO_A_MOUSE">To a Mouse</a></td><td><i>Robert Burns</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_159">159</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_FAIRIES">The Fairies</a></td><td><i>William Allingham</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_162">162</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#LA_BELLE_DAME_SANS_MERCI">La Belle Dame Sans Merci</a></td><td><i>John Keats</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_168">168</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SPRING">Spring</a></td><td><i>Thomas Nashe</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_175">175</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#I_WANDERED_LONELY">“I Wandered Lonely”</a></td><td><i>William Wordsworth</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_176">176</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_GAY_GOS-HAWK">The Gay Gos-Hawk</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_178">178</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AN_OLD_SONG_OF_FAIRIES">An Old Song of Fairies</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_186">186</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#MOON_FOLLY">Moon Folly</a></td><td><i>Fannie Stearns Gifford</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_189">189</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#STAR-TALK">Star-Talk</a></td><td><i>Robert Graves</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_193">193</a><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_15" id="page_15">{15}</a></span></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#JIM_JAY">Jim Jay</a></td><td><i>Walter de la Mare</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_197">197</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_GHOSTS_OF_THE_BUFFALOES">The Ghosts of the Buffaloes</a></td><td><i>Vachel Lindsay</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_199">199</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_CHRISTMAS_CAROL">A Christmas Carol</a></td><td><i>Christina Rossetti</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_203">203</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ESCAPE_AT_BEDTIME">Escape at Bedtime</a></td><td><i>Robert Louis Stevenson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_205">205</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SONG_OF_THE_CHATTAHOOCHEE">Song of the Chattahoochee</a></td><td><i>Sidney Lanier</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_206">206</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SEA_FEVER">Sea Fever</a></td><td><i>John Masefield</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_211">211</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#O_CAPTAIN_MY_CAPTAIN">O Captain! My Captain!</a></td><td><i>Walt Whitman</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_212">212</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_SNOW">The Snow</a></td><td><i>Emily Dickinson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_214">214</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_SONG_FOR_MY_MOTHER_HER_HANDS">A Song for My Mother</a></td><td><i>Anna Hempstead Branch</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_215">215</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_FOUNTAIN">The Fountain</a></td><td><i>James Russell Lowell</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_217">217</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#NATURES_FRIEND">Nature’s Friend</a></td><td><i>William H. Davies</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_221">221</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#TREE-TOAD">Tree-Toad</a></td><td><i>Hilda Conkling</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_223">223</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AN_ANCIENT_CHRISTMAS_CAROL">An Ancient Christmas Carol</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_225">225</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AN_OLD_CHRISTMAS_CAROL">An Old Christmas Carol</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_226">226</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#KING_JOHN_AND_THE_ABBOT_OF_CANTERBURY">King John and the Abbot of Canterbury</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_228">228</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_SANDS_OF_DEE">The Sands of Dee</a></td><td><i>Charles Kingsley</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_234">234</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#SISTER_AWAKE">Sister, Awake!</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_236">236</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#THE_SKELETON_IN_ARMOR">The Skeleton in Armor</a></td><td><i>Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_237">237</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#BY_BENDEMEERS_STREAM">By Bendemeer’s Stream</a></td><td><i>Thomas Moore</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_244">244</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#A_PRAYER">A Prayer</a></td><td><i>Edwin Markham</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_245">245</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#YOUNG_LOCHINVAR">Young Lochinvar</a></td><td><i>Sir Walter Scott</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_246">246</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#OFF_THE_GROUND">Off the Ground</a></td><td><i>Walter de la Mare</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_249">249</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#AULD_DADDY_DARKNESS">Auld Daddy Darkness</a></td><td><i>James Ferguson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_256">256</a></td></tr> -</table> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 61px;"> -<a href="images/image015.png"> -<img src="images/image015.png" width="61" height="158" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_16" id="page_16">{16}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 195px;"> -<a href="images/image016.png"> -<img src="images/image016.png" width="195" height="101" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_17" id="page_17">{17}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 113px;"> -<a href="images/image017.png"> -<img src="images/image017.png" width="113" height="86" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ILLUSTRATIONS" id="ILLUSTRATIONS"></a>ILLUSTRATIONS</h2> - -<table cellpadding="0"> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_001">Kubla Khan</a></td><td><i>Samuel Taylor Coleridge</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#ill_001">Frontispiece</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_002">“When the Hounds of Spring”</a></td><td><i>Algernon Charles Swinburne</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_33">33</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_003">The Lady of Shalott</a></td><td><i>Alfred Tennyson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_51">51</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_004">Hymn to Diana</a></td><td><i>Ben Jonson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_58">58</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_005">Robin Hood and the Butcher</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_69">69</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_006">Lullaby for Titania</a></td><td><i>William Shakespeare</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_79">79</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_007">Israfel</a></td><td><i>Edgar Allan Poe</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_83">83</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_008">Sir Patrick Spens</a></td><td><i>Author Unknown</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_105">105</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_009">“Time, You Old Gipsy Man”</a></td><td><i>Ralph Hodgson</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_125">125</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_010">The Cloud</a></td><td><i>Percy Bysshe Shelley</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_147">147</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_011">The Fairies</a></td><td><i>William Allingham</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_165">165</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_012">La Belle Dame Sans Merci</a></td><td><i>John Keats</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_169">169</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_013">Spring</a></td><td><i>Thomas Nashe</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_174">174</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_014">Moon Folly</a></td><td><i>Fannie Stearns Gifford</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_191">191</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_015">Star-Talk</a></td><td><i>Robert Graves</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_195">195</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_016">Sea Fever</a></td><td><i>John Masefield</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_210">210</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_017">The Fountain</a></td><td><i>James Russell Lowell</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_219">219</a></td></tr> - -<tr><td class="pdd"><a href="#ill_018">Off the Ground</a></td><td><i>Walter de la Mare</i></td><td class="rt" valign="bottom"><a href="#page_251">251</a></td></tr> - -</table> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_18" id="page_18">{18}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> -<a href="images/image018.png"> -<img src="images/image018.png" width="416" height="168" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_19" id="page_19">{19}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="KUBLA_KHAN" id="KUBLA_KHAN"></a>KUBLA KHAN<br /><br /> -<small><i>A Vision in a Dream</i></small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In Xanadu did Kubla Khan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A stately pleasure-dome decree:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where Alph, the sacred river, ran<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through caverns measureless to man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down to a sunless sea.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So twice five miles of fertile ground<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With walls and towers were girdled round:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there were gardens bright with sinuous rills<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where blossom’d many an incense-bearing tree;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And here were forests ancient as the hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enfolding sunny spots of greenery.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But oh! that deep romantic chasm which slanted<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the green hill athwart a cedarn cover!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A savage place! as holy and enchanted<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As e’er beneath a waning moon was haunted<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By woman wailing for her demon-lover!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A mighty fountain momently was forced:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amid whose swift half-intermitted burst<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Huge fragments vaulted like rebounding hail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or chaffy grain beneath the thresher’s flail;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ’mid these dancing rocks at once and ever<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_20" id="page_20">{20}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">It flung up momently the sacred river.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Five miles meandering with a mazy motion<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through wood and dale the sacred river ran,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then reach’d the caverns measureless to man,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sank in tumult to a lifeless ocean:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ’mid this tumult Kubla heard from far<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ancestral voices prophesying war!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The shadow of the dome of pleasure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Floated midway on the waves;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where was heard the mingled measure<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the fountain and the caves.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was a miracle of rare device,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A sunny pleasure-dome with caves of ice!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A damsel with a dulcimer<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a vision once I saw:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was an Abyssinian maid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on her dulcimer she played,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Singing of Mount Abora.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could I revive within me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her symphony and song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To such a deep delight ’twould win me<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That with music loud and long,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would build that dome in air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That sunny dome! Those caves of ice!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all who heard should see them there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all should cry, Beware! Beware!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His flashing eyes, his floating hair!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_21" id="page_21">{21}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Weave a circle round him thrice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And close your eyes with holy dread<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he on honey-dew hath fed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And drunk the milk of Paradise.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>Samuel Taylor Coleridge</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 342px;"> -<a href="images/image021.png"> -<img src="images/image021.png" width="342" height="339" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_22" id="page_22">{22}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 362px;"> -<a href="images/image022.jpg"> -<img src="images/image022.jpg" width="362" height="366" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h2><a name="MEG_MERRILIES" id="MEG_MERRILIES"></a>MEG MERRILIES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Old Meg she was a Gipsy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And liv’d upon the Moors:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her bed it was the brown heath turf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her house was out of doors.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_23" id="page_23">{23}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her apples were swart blackberries,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her currants pods o’ broom;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her wine was dew of the wild white rose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her book a churchyard tomb.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her Brothers were the craggy hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her Sisters larchen trees—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone with her great family<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She liv’d as she did please.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No breakfast had she many a morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No dinner many a noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ’stead of supper she would stare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Full hard against the Moon.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But every morn of woodbine fresh<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She made her garlanding,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And every night the dark glen Yew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She wove, and she would sing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And with her fingers old and brown<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She plaited Mats o’ Rushes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gave them to the Cottagers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She met among the Bushes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Old Meg was brave as Margaret Queen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tall as Amazon:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An old red blanket cloak she wore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A chip hat had she on.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God rest her aged bones somewhere—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She died full long agone!—<i>John Keats</i><br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_24" id="page_24">{24}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 361px;"> -<a href="images/image024.png"> -<img src="images/image024.png" width="361" height="116" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h2><a name="BERRIES" id="BERRIES"></a>BERRIES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There was an old woman<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went blackberry picking<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the hedges<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From Weep to Wicking.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half a pottle—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No more she had got,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When out steps a Fairy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From her green grot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And says, “Well, Jill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would ’ee pick ’ee mo?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Jill, she curtseys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And looks just so.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Be off,” says the Fairy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“As quick as you can,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the meadows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the little green lane,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That dips to the hayfields<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Farmer Grimes:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve berried those hedges<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_25" id="page_25">{25}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">A score of times;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bushel on bushel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll promise ’ee, Jill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This side of supper<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If ’ee pick with a will.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She glints very bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And speaks her fair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then lo, and behold!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She has faded in air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Be sure old Goodie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She trots betimes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the meadows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Farmer Grimes.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never was queen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With jewellery rich<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As those same hedges<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From twig to ditch;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like Dutchmen’s coffers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fruit, thorn, and flower—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They shone like William<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Mary’s bower.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And be sure Old Goodie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Went back to Weep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So tired with her basket<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She scarce could creep.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When she comes in the dusk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To her cottage door,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_26" id="page_26">{26}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s Towser wagging<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As never before,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To see his Missus<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So glad to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come from her fruit-picking<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Back to he.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 418px;"> -<a href="images/image026.png"> -<img src="images/image026.png" width="418" height="394" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_27" id="page_27">{27}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And soon as next morning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dawn was grey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pot on the hob<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was simmering away;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all in a stew<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a hugger-mugger<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Towser and Jill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A-boiling of sugar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the dark clear fruit<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That from Faërie came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For syrup and jelly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And blackberry jam.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Twelve jolly gallipots<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jill put by;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And one little teeny one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One inch high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that she’s hidden<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A good thumb deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Half way over<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From Wicking to Weep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>Walter de la Mare</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 231px;"> -<a href="images/image027.png"> -<img src="images/image027.png" width="231" height="85" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_28" id="page_28">{28}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="ROMANCE" id="ROMANCE"></a>ROMANCE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I will make you brooches and toys for your delight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of bird-song at morning and star-shine at night.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will make a palace fit for you and me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of green days in forests and blue days at sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I will make my kitchen, and you shall keep your room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where white flows the river and bright blows the broom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And you shall wash your linen and keep your body white<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In rainfall at morning and dewfall at night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And this shall be for music when no one else is near<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fine song for singing, the rare song to hear!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That only I remember, that only you admire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the broad road that stretches and the roadside fire.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>Robert Louis Stevenson</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 314px;"> -<a href="images/image028.png"> -<img src="images/image028.png" width="314" height="200" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_29" id="page_29">{29}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 336px;"> -<a href="images/image029.png"> -<img src="images/image029.png" width="336" height="175" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h2><a name="HYMN_OF_PAN" id="HYMN_OF_PAN"></a>HYMN OF PAN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">From the forests and highlands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We come, we come;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the river-girt islands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where loud waves are dumb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Listening to my sweet pipings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind in the reeds and the rushes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The bees on the bells of thyme,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The birds on the myrtle bushes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The cicale above in the lime,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the lizards below in the grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were as silent as ever old Tmolus was,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Listening to my sweet pipings.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Liquid Penëus was flowing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all dark Tempe lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Pelion’s shadow outgrowing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The light of the dying day,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_30" id="page_30">{30}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Speeded by my sweet pipings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Sileni, and Sylvans, and Fauns,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the Nymphs of the woods and waves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the edge of the moist river-lawns,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the brink of the dewy caves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all that did then attend and follow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Were silent with love, as you now, Apollo,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With envy of my sweet pipings.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I sang of the dancing Stars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I sang of the daedal Earth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And of Heaven, and the giant wars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Love, and Death, and Birth.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then I changed my pipings—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Singing how down the vale of Maenalus<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I pursued a maiden, and clasped a reed:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gods and men, we are all deluded thus;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It breaks in our bosom, and then we bleed.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All wept—as I think both ye now would,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If envy or age had not frozen your blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the sorrow of my sweet pipings.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>Percy Bysshe Shelley</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 77px;"> -<a href="images/image030.png"> -<img src="images/image030.png" width="77" height="76" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_31" id="page_31">{31}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="WRITTEN_IN_MARCH" id="WRITTEN_IN_MARCH"></a>WRITTEN IN MARCH</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Cock is crowing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The stream is flowing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The small birds twitter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lake doth glitter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The green field sleeps in the sun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The oldest and youngest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are at work with the strongest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cattle are grazing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their heads never raising;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are forty feeding like one!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like an army defeated<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The snow hath retreated,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now doth fare ill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the top of the bare hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ploughboy is whooping—anon—anon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s joy in the mountains;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s life in the fountains;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Small clouds are sailing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blue sky prevailing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rain is over and gone!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>William Wordsworth</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_32" id="page_32">{32}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WHEN_THE_HOUNDS_OF_SPRING" id="WHEN_THE_HOUNDS_OF_SPRING"></a>“WHEN THE HOUNDS OF SPRING”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the hounds of spring are on winter’s traces,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mother of months in meadow or plain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fills the shadows and windy places<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With lisp of leaves and ripple of rain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the brown bright nightingale amorous<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is half assuaged for Itylus,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the Thracian ships and the foreign faces,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tongueless vigil, and all the pain.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come with bows bent and with emptying of quivers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Maiden most perfect, lady of light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a noise of winds and many rivers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a clamor of waters, and with might;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bind on thy sandals, O thou most fleet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the splendor and speed of thy feet;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the faint east quickens, the wan west shivers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round the feet of the day and the feet of the night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where shall we find her, how shall we sing to her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fold our hands round her knees, and cling?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O that man’s heart were as fire and could spring to her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fire, or the strength of the streams that spring!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the stars and the winds are unto her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As raiment, as songs of the harp-player;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the risen stars and the fallen cling to her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the southwest-wind and the west-wind sing.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_33" id="page_33">{33}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_002" style="width: 427px;"> -<a href="images/image033.jpg"> -<img src="images/image033.jpg" width="427" height="572" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_34" id="page_34">{34}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_35" id="page_35">{35}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For winter’s rains and ruins are over,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the season of snows and sins;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The days dividing lover and lover,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The light that loses, the night that wins;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And time remembered is grief forgotten,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And frosts are slain and flowers begotten,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in green underwood and cover<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blossom by blossom the spring begins....<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>Algernon Charles Swinburne</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 261px;"> -<a href="images/image035.png"> -<img src="images/image035.png" width="261" height="264" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_36" id="page_36">{36}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="SONG" id="SONG"></a>SONG</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The year’s at the spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And day’s at the morn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Morning’s at seven;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hill-side’s dew-pearled;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lark’s on the wing;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The snail’s on the thorn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God’s in His Heaven—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All’s right with the world!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>Robert Browning</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 339px;"> -<a href="images/image036.png"> -<img src="images/image036.png" width="339" height="208" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_37" id="page_37">{37}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="UNDER_THE_GREENWOOD_TREE" id="UNDER_THE_GREENWOOD_TREE"></a>“UNDER THE GREENWOOD TREE”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Under the greenwood tree,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who loves to lie with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And turn his merry note<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto the sweet bird’s throat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come hither, come hither, come hither:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here shall he see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No enemy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But winter and rough weather.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who doth ambition shun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And loves to live i’ the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeking the food he eats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pleased with what he gets,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come hither, come hither, come hither:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here shall he see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No enemy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But winter and rough weather.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>William Shakespeare</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 163px;"> -<a href="images/image037.png"> -<img src="images/image037.png" width="163" height="96" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_38" id="page_38">{38}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="TO_VIOLETS" id="TO_VIOLETS"></a>TO VIOLETS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Welcome, maids of honor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You do bring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the Spring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wait upon her.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She has virgins many,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fresh and fair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet you are<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More sweet than any.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You’re the maiden posies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, so graced,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be placed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Fore damask roses.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet, though thus respected,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By and by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye do lie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poor girls, neglected.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>Robert Herrick</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 213px;"> -<a href="images/image038.png"> -<img src="images/image038.png" width="213" height="191" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_39" id="page_39">{39}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="ON_MAY_MORNING" id="ON_MAY_MORNING"></a>ON MAY MORNING</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flow’ry May, who from her green lap throws<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The yellow cowslip, and the pale primrose.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hail, bounteous May, that doth inspire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mirth and youth and warm desire!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Woods and groves are of thy dressing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus we salute thee with our early song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And welcome thee, and wish thee long.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>John Milton</i><br /></div> -<a href="images/image039.png"> -<img src="images/image039.png" width="174" height="227" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_40" id="page_40">{40}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_LEPRACAUN_OR_FAIRY_SHOEMAKER" id="THE_LEPRACAUN_OR_FAIRY_SHOEMAKER"></a>THE LEPRACAUN OR FAIRY SHOEMAKER</h2> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 236px;"> -<a href="images/image040.png"> -<img src="images/image040.png" width="236" height="61" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Little Cowboy, what have you heard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up on the lonely rath’s green mound?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only the plaintive yellow bird<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sighing in sultry fields around,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Chary, chary, chary, chee-ee!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only the grasshopper and the bee?—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Tip-tap, rip-rap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tick-a-tack-too!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Scarlet leather, sewn together,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This will make a shoe.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Left, right, pull it tight;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Summer days are warm;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Underground in winter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Laughing at the storm!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lay your ear close to the hill.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do you not catch the tiny clamour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Busy click of elfin hammer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Voice of the Lepracaun singing shrill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As he merrily plies his trade?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_41" id="page_41">{41}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s a span<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a quarter in height.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Get him in sight, hold him tight,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And you’re a made<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Man!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 77px;"> -<a href="images/image041.png"> -<img src="images/image041.png" width="77" height="62" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You watch your cattle the summer day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sup on potatoes, sleep in the hay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How would you like to roll in your carriage,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Look for a duchess’s daughter in marriage?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seize the Shoemaker—then you may!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Big boots a-hunting,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sandals in the hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White for a wedding-feast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pink for a ball.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This way, that way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So we make a shoe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Getting rich every stitch,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tick-tack-too!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nine-and-ninety treasure-crocks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This keen miser-fairy hath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hid in mountains, woods and rocks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ruin and round-tow’r, cave and rath,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_42" id="page_42">{42}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And where the cormorants build;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">From time of old<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Guarded by him;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Each of them fill’d<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Full to the brim<br /></span> -<span class="i6">With gold!<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 76px;"> -<a href="images/image042.png"> -<img src="images/image042.png" width="76" height="56" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I caught him at work one day, myself,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the castle-ditch, where foxglove grows,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A wrinkled, wizen’d, and bearded Elf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spectacles stuck on his pointed nose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silver buckles to his hose,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leather apron—shoe in his lap—<br /></span> -<span class="i4">“Rip-rap, tip-tap,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Tack-tack-too!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">(A grasshopper on my cap!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Away the moth flew!)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Buskins for a fairy prince,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brogues for his son,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pay me well, pay me well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the job is done!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rogue was mine, beyond a doubt.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I stared at him; he stared at me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Servant, Sir!’ ‘Humph!’ says he,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And pull’d a snuff-box out.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_43" id="page_43">{43}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He took a long pinch, look’d better pleased,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The queer little Lepracaun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Offer’d the box with a whimsical grace,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pouf! he flung the dust in my face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, while I sneezed,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Was gone!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Allingham</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 158px;"> -<a href="images/image043.png"> -<img src="images/image043.png" width="158" height="121" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_44" id="page_44">{44}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="HUNTING_SONG" id="HUNTING_SONG"></a>HUNTING SONG</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the mountain dawns the day;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the jolly chase is here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hawk, and horse, and hunting spear!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hounds are in their couples yelling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hawks are whistling, horns are knelling;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Merrily, merrily, mingle they,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Waken, lords and ladies gay.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mist has left the mountain grey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Springlets in the dawn are steaming,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Diamonds on the brake are gleaming;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And foresters have busy been,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To track the buck in thicket green;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now we come to chant our lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Waken, lords and ladies gay.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the greenwood haste away;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We can show you where he lies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fleet of foot, and tall of size;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We can show the marks he made,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When ’gainst the oak his antlers fray’d;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You shall see him brought to bay—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Waken, lords and ladies gay.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_45" id="page_45">{45}</a></span>’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Louder, louder chant the lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waken, lords and ladies gay!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tell them youth, and mirth, and glee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Run a course as well as we;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time, stern huntsman! who can baulk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stanch as hound, and fleet as hawk?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Think of this, and rise with day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gentle lords and ladies gay!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Sir Walter Scott</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 412px;"> -<a href="images/image045.png"> -<img src="images/image045.png" width="412" height="224" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_46" id="page_46">{46}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_LADY_OF_SHALOTT" id="THE_LADY_OF_SHALOTT"></a>THE LADY OF SHALOTT</h2> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 414px;"> -<a href="images/image046.png"> -<img src="images/image046.png" width="414" height="167" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Part I</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On either side the river lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long fields of barley and of rye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That clothe the wold and meet the sky;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And through the field the road runs by<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To many-towered Camelot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And up and down the people go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gazing where the lilies blow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round an island there below,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The island of Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Willows whiten, aspens quiver,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little breezes dusk and shiver<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the wave that runs for ever<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the island in the river<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Flowing down to Camelot.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_47" id="page_47">{47}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Four gray walls, and four gray towers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Overlook a space of flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the silent isle embowers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By the margin, willow-veiled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slide the heavy barges trailed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By slow horses; and unhailed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shallop flitteth silken-sailed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Skimming down to Camelot:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But who hath seen her wave her hand?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or at the casement seen her stand?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or is she known in all the land,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Only reapers, reaping early<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In among the bearded barley,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hear a song that echoes cheerly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the river winding clearly,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Down to towered Camelot:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And by the moon the reaper weary,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Piling sheaves in uplands airy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Listening, whispers “<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis the fairy<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lady of Shalott.”<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_48" id="page_48">{48}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 416px;"> -<a href="images/image048.png"> -<img src="images/image048.png" width="416" height="163" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Part II</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There she weaves by night and day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A magic web with colors gay.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She has heard a whisper say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A curse is on her if she stay<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To look down to Camelot.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She knows not what the curse may be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so she weaveth steadily,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And little other care hath she,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And moving through a mirror clear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That hangs before her all the year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shadows of the world appear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There she sees the highway near<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Winding down to Camelot:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There the river eddy whirls,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_49" id="page_49">{49}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there the surly village-churls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the red cloaks of market-girls,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Pass onward from Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sometimes a troop of damsels glad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An abbot on an ambling pad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sometimes a curly shepherd-lad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or long-haired page in crimson clad,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Goes by to towered Camelot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sometimes through the mirror blue<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The knights come riding two and two:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She hath no loyal knight and true,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But in her web she still delights<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To weave the mirror’s magic sights,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For often through the silent nights<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A funeral, with plumes and lights<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And music, went to Camelot:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or when the moon was overhead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came two young lovers lately wed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I am half sick of shadows,” said<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 152px;"> -<a href="images/image049.png"> -<img src="images/image049.png" width="152" height="69" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_50" id="page_50">{50}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 417px;"> -<a href="images/image050.png"> -<img src="images/image050.png" width="417" height="171" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Part III</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A bow-shot from her bower-eaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He rode between the barley-sheaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sun came dazzling through the leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flamed upon the brazen greaves<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Of bold Sir Lancelot.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A red-cross knight for ever kneeled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To a lady in his shield,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That sparkled on the yellow field,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beside remote Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The gemmy bridle glittered free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like to some branch of stars we see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hung in the golden Galaxy.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bridle bells rang merrily<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As he rode down to Camelot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And from his blazoned baldric slung<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_51" id="page_51">{51}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_003" style="width: 425px;"> -<a href="images/image051.jpg"> -<img src="images/image051.jpg" width="425" height="569" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_52" id="page_52">{52}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_53" id="page_53">{53}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A mighty silver bugle hung,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as he rode his armor rung,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Beside remote Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All in the blue unclouded weather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thick-jeweled shone the saddle-leather,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The helmet and the helmet-feather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burned like one burning flame together,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As he rode down to Camelot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As often through the purple night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Below the starry clusters bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some bearded meteor, trailing light,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Moves over still Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His broad clear brow in sunlight glowed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On burnished hooves his war-horse trode;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From underneath his helmet flowed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His coal-black curls as on he rode,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As he rode down to Camelot.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the bank and from the river<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He flashed into the crystal mirror,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Tirra lirra,” by the river<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sang Sir Lancelot.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She left the web, she left the loom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She made three paces through the room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She saw the water-lily bloom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She saw the helmet and the plume,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She looked down to Camelot.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_54" id="page_54">{54}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out flew the web and floated wide;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mirror cracked from side to side;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The curse is come upon me!” cried<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 411px;"> -<a href="images/image054.png"> -<img src="images/image054.png" width="411" height="165" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h3><span class="smcap">Part IV</span></h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the stormy east-wind straining,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pale yellow woods were waning,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The broad stream in his banks complaining,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heavily the low sky raining<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Over towered Camelot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down she came and found a boat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beneath a willow left afloat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round about the prow she wrote<br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>The Lady of Shalott</i>.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And down the river’s dim expanse—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like some bold seër in a trance,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_55" id="page_55">{55}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeing all his own mischance—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a glassy countenance<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Did she look to Camelot.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And at the closing of the day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She loosed the chain, and down she lay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The broad stream bore her far away,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lying, robed in snowy white<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That loosely flew to left and right—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The leaves upon her falling light—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the noises of the night<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She floated down to Camelot:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as the boat-head wound along<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The willowy hills and fields among,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They heard her singing her last song,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Heard a carol, mournful, holy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Chanted loudly, chanted lowly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till her blood was frozen slowly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her eyes were darkened wholly,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Turned to towered Camelot;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For ere she reached upon the tide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The first house by the water-side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Singing in her song she died,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_56" id="page_56">{56}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Under tower and balcony,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By garden-wall and gallery,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A gleaming shape she floated by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dead-pale between the houses high,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Silent into Camelot.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out upon the wharfs they came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knight and burgher, lord and dame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round the prow they read her name,<br /></span> -<span class="i2"><i>The Lady of Shalott</i>.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who is this? and what is here?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the lighted palace near<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Died the sound of royal cheer;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they crossed themselves for fear,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">All the knights at Camelot:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Lancelot mused a little space;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said, “She has a lovely face;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God in His mercy lend her grace,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Lady of Shalott.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Alfred Tennyson</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_58" id="page_58">{58}</a></span><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_57" id="page_57">{57}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_004" style="width: 417px;"> -<a href="images/image058.jpg"> -<img src="images/image058.jpg" width="417" height="558" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_59" id="page_59">{59}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="HYMN_TO_DIANA" id="HYMN_TO_DIANA"></a>HYMN TO DIANA</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the sun is laid to sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seated in thy silver chair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">State in wonted manner keep:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hesperus entreats thy light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Goddess excellently bright.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Earth, let not thy envious shade<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dare itself to interpose;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cynthia’s shining orb was made<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heav’n to clear, when day did close:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bless us then with wishéd sight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Goddess excellently bright.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lay thy bow of pearl apart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thy crystal shining quiver;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give unto the flying hart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Space to breathe, how short soever:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thou that mak’st a day of night,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Goddess excellently bright.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Ben Jonson</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_60" id="page_60">{60}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_SONG_OF_WANDERING_AENGUS" id="THE_SONG_OF_WANDERING_AENGUS"></a>THE SONG OF WANDERING AENGUS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I went out to the hazel wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Because a fire was in my head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And cut and peeled a hazel wand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hooked a berry to a thread;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when white moths were on the wing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And moth-like stars were flickering out,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I dropped the berry in a stream<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And caught a little silver trout.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When I had laid it on the floor<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I went to blow the fire a-flame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But something rustled on the floor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And some one called me by my name:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It had become a glimmering girl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With apple blossom in her hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who called me by my name and ran<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And faded through the brightening air.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Though I am old with wandering<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through hollow lands and hilly lands,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will find out where she has gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And kiss her lips and take her hands;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And walk among long dappled grass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pluck till time and times are done,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_61" id="page_61">{61}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The silver apples of the moon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The golden apples of the sun.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Butler Yeats</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 285px;"> -<a href="images/image061.png"> -<img src="images/image061.png" width="285" height="291" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_62" id="page_62">{62}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_SHEPHERD_TO_HIS_LOVE" id="THE_SHEPHERD_TO_HIS_LOVE"></a>THE SHEPHERD TO HIS LOVE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come live with me and be my love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we will all the pleasures prove<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That hills and vallies, dales and fields,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And woods or steepy mountain yields.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And we will sit upon the rocks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeing the shepherds feed their flocks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By shallow rivers to whose falls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Melodious birds sing madrigals.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I will make thee beds of roses<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a thousand fragrant posies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A cap of flowers, and a kirtle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Embroider’d all with leaves of myrtle.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A gown made of the finest wool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which from our pretty lambs we pull,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair-linèd slippers for the cold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With buckles of the purest gold.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A belt of straw and ivy-buds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With coral clasps and amber studs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ if these pleasures may thee move,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come live with me, and be my love.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thy silver dishes for thy meat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As precious as the gods do eat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_63" id="page_63">{63}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall on an ivory table be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Prepar’d each day for thee and me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The shepherd-swains shall dance and sing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For thy delight each May-morning:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If these delights thy mind may move,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then live with me, and be my love.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Christopher Marlowe</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 151px;"> -<a href="images/image063.png"> -<img src="images/image063.png" width="151" height="270" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_64" id="page_64">{64}</a></span></p> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 319px;"> -<a href="images/image064.png"> -<img src="images/image064.png" width="319" height="62" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ROBIN_HOOD_AND_THE_BUTCHER" id="ROBIN_HOOD_AND_THE_BUTCHER"></a>ROBIN HOOD AND THE BUTCHER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come, all you brave gallants, and listen a while,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With hey down, down, an a down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That are in the bowers within;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For of Robin Hood, that archer good,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A song I intend for to sing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Upon a time it chancëd so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bold Robin in forrest did spy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A jolly butcher, with a bonny fine mare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With his flesh to the market did hye.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Good morrow, good fellow,’ said jolly Robin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘What food hast? tell unto me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thy trade to me tell, and where thou dost dwell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I like well thy company.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The butcher he answered jolly Robin:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘No matter where I dwell;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a butcher I am, and to Notingham<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am going, my flesh to sell.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_65" id="page_65">{65}</a></span>’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘What is the price of thy flesh?’ said jolly Robin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Come tell it soon unto me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the price of thy mare, be she never so dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a butcher fain would I be.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘The price of my flesh,’ the butcher repli’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I soon will tell unto thee;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With my bonny mare, and they are not dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Four mark thou must give unto me.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Four mark I will give thee,’ saith jolly Robin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Four mark it shall be thy fee;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy mony come count, and let me mount,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a butcher I fain would be.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now Robin he is to Notingham gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His butcher’s trade for to begin;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With good intent, to the sheriff he went,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there he took up his inn.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When other butchers they opened their meat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bold Robin he then begun;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But how for to sell he knew not well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a butcher he was but young.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When other butchers no meat could sell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Robin got both gold and fee;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he sold more meat for one peny<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than others could do for three.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_66" id="page_66">{66}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But when he sold his meat so fast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No butcher by him could thrive;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he sold more meat for one peny<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than others could do for five.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Which made the butchers of Notingham<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To study as they did stand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saying, surely he was some prodigal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That had sold his father’s land.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The butchers they stepped to jolly Robin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Acquainted with him for to be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Come, brother,’ one said, ‘we be all of one trade,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come, will you go dine with me?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Accurst of his heart,’ said jolly Robin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘That a butcher doth deny;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will go with you my brethren true,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as fast as I can hie.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But when to the sheriff’s house they came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To dinner they hied apace,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Robin he the man must be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before them all to say grace.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Pray God bless us all,’ said jolly Robin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘And our meat within this place;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A cup of sack so good will nourish our blood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so I do end my grace.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_67" id="page_67">{67}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Come fill us more wine,’ said jolly Robin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Let us merry be while we do stay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For wine and good cheer, be it never so dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I vow I the reckning will pay.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Come, brothers, be merry,’ said jolly Robin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Let us drink, and never give ore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the shot I will pay, ere I go my way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If it cost me five pounds and more.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘This is a mad blade,’ the butchers then said;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saies the sheriff, ‘He is some prodigal,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That some land has sold, for silver and gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now he doth mean to spend all.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Hast thou any horn-beasts,’ the sheriff repli’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Good fellow, to sell unto me?’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Yes, that I have, good Master Sheriff,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I have hundreds two or three.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘And a hundred aker of good free land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If you please it to see;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I’le make you as good assurance of it<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As ever my father made me.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sheriff he saddled a good palfrey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With three hundred pound in gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And away he went with bold Robin Hood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His horned beasts to behold.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_68" id="page_68">{68}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Away then the sheriff and Robin did ride,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the forrest of merry Sherwood;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then the sheriff did say, ‘God bless us this day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From a man they call Robin Hood!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But when that a little further they came,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bold Robin he chanced to spy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A hundred head of good red deer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come tripping the sheriff full nigh.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘How like you my hornd beasts, good Master Sheriff?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They be fat and fair for to see:’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I tell thee, good fellow, I would I were gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I like not thy company.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then Robin he set his horn to his mouth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And blew but blasts three;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then quickly anon there came Little John,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all his company.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘What is your will?’ then said little John,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Good master come tell it to me;’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I have brought hither the sheriff of Notingham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This day to dine with thee.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘He is welcome to me,’ then said Little John,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘I hope he will honestly pay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I know he has gold, if it be but well told,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will serve us to drink a whole day.’<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_69" id="page_69">{69}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_005" style="width: 305px;"> -<a href="images/image069.png"> -<img src="images/image069.png" width="305" height="559" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_70" id="page_70">{70}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_71" id="page_71">{71}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then Robin took his mantle from his back,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And laid it upon the ground,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And out of the sheriffe’s portmantle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He told three hundred pound.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Robin he brought him thorow the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And set him on his dapple gray:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘O have me commended to your wife at home;’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So Robin went laughing away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Author Unknown</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_72" id="page_72">{72}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_SEA_SONG" id="A_SEA_SONG"></a>A SEA SONG</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A wet sheet and a flowing sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A wind that follows fast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fills the white and rustling sail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bends the gallant mast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bends the gallant mast, my boys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While, like the eagle free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Away the good ship flies, and leaves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old England on the lee.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O for a soft and gentle wind!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard a fair one cry;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But give to me the snoring breeze<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And white waves heaving high;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And white waves heaving high, my boys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The good ship tight and free—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The world of waters is our home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And merry men are we.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s tempest in yon hornèd moon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lightning in yon cloud;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hark the music, mariners!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind is piping loud;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind is piping loud, my boys,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lightning flashes free—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While the hollow oak our palace is,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our heritage the sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Allan Cunningham</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_73" id="page_73">{73}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="EPITAPH_ON_A_HARE" id="EPITAPH_ON_A_HARE"></a>EPITAPH ON A HARE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Here lies, whom hound did ne’er pursue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor swifter greyhound follow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose foot ne’er tainted morning dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor ear heard huntsman’s hallo;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Old Tiney, surliest of his kind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who, nursed with tender care,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to domestic bounds confined,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was still a wild Jack-hare.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Though duly from my hand he took<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His pittance every night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He did it with a jealous look,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, when he could, would bite.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His diet was of wheaten bread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And milk, and oats, and straw;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thistles, or lettuces instead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sand to scour his maw.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On twigs of hawthorn he regaled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On pippins’ russet peel;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, when his juicy salads failed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sliced carrot pleased him well.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A Turkey carpet was his lawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whereon he loved to bound,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_74" id="page_74">{74}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">To skip and gambol like a fawn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And swing his rump around.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">His frisking was at evening hours,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For then he lost his fear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But most before approaching showers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or when a storm drew near.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 163px;"> -<a href="images/image074.png"> -<img src="images/image074.png" width="163" height="105" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Eight years and five round-rolling moons<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He thus saw steal away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dozing out all his idle noons,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And every night at play.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I kept him for his humor’s sake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he would oft beguile<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My heart of thoughts that made it ache,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And force me to a smile.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But now, beneath this walnut-shade<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He finds his long, last home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And waits, in snug concealment laid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till gentler Puss shall come.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_75" id="page_75">{75}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He, still more agèd, feels the shocks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From which no care can save,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, partner once of Tiney’s box,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must soon partake his grave.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Cowper</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 268px;"> -<a href="images/image075.png"> -<img src="images/image075.png" width="268" height="187" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_76" id="page_76">{76}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_PILGRIM" id="THE_PILGRIM"></a>THE PILGRIM<br /><br /> -<small>From “<span class="smcap">The Pilgrim’s Progress</span>”</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Who would true valor see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let him come hither!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One here will constant be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come wind, come weather;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There’s no discouragement<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall make him once relent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His first-avowed intent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be a Pilgrim.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Whoso beset him round<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With dismal stories,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do but themselves confound;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His strength the more is.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No lion can him fright;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’ll with a giant fight;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But he will have a right<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be a Pilgrim.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hobgoblin, nor foul fiend,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Can daunt his spirit;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He knows he at the end<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shall Life inherit:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, fancies, fly away;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_77" id="page_77">{77}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’ll not fear what men say;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’ll labor night and day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To be a Pilgrim.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>John Bunyan</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 342px;"> -<a href="images/image077.png"> -<img src="images/image077.png" width="342" height="113" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_78" id="page_78">{78}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="LULLABY_FOR_TITANIA" id="LULLABY_FOR_TITANIA"></a>LULLABY FOR TITANIA</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6"><i>First Fairy</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You spotted snakes with double tongue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thorny hedgehogs, be not seen;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Newts, and blind-worms, do no wrong;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come not near our fairy queen.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6"><i>Chorus</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Philomel with melody<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sing in our sweet lullaby!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come our lovely lady nigh!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So good-night, with lullaby.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6"><i>Second Fairy</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Weaving spiders, come not here;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hence, you long-legg’d spinners, hence;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beetles black, approach not near;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Worm, nor snail, do no offence.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6"><i>Chorus</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Philomel with melody<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sing in our sweet lullaby;<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_79" id="page_79">{79}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_006" style="width: 418px;"> -<a href="images/image079.jpg"> -<img src="images/image079.jpg" width="418" height="555" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_80" id="page_80">{80}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_81" id="page_81">{81}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lulla, lulla, lullaby; lulla, lulla, lullaby!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never harm, nor spell, nor charm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come our lovely lady nigh!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So good-night, with lullaby.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Shakespeare</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 207px;"> -<a href="images/image081.png"> -<img src="images/image081.png" width="207" height="197" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_82" id="page_82">{82}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="ISRAFEL" id="ISRAFEL"></a>ISRAFEL</h2> - -<p>And the angel Israfel, whose heart-strings are a lute, and who has -the sweetest voice of all God’s creatures.—<i>Koran.</i></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In Heaven a spirit doth dwell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whose heart-strings are a lute;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">None sing so wildly well<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the Angel Israfel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the giddy stars (so legends tell),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ceasing their hymns, attend the spell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of his voice, all mute.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tottering above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her highest noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The enamoured moon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blushes with love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While, to listen, the red levin<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(With the rapid Pleiads, even,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which were seven)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pauses in Heaven.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And they say (the starry choir<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the other listening things)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That Israfeli’s fire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is owing to that lyre<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By which he sits and sings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The trembling living wire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of those unusual strings.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_83" id="page_83">{83}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_007" style="width: 418px;"> -<a href="images/image083.jpg"> -<img src="images/image083.jpg" width="418" height="418" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_84" id="page_84">{84}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_85" id="page_85">{85}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But the skies that angel trod,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where deep thoughts are a duty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where Love’s a grown-up God,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the Houri glances are<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Imbued with all the beauty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which we worship in a star.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Therefore thou art not wrong,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Israfeli, who despisest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An unimpassioned song;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To thee the laurels belong,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Best bard, because the wisest:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Merrily live, and long!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The ecstasies above<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With thy burning measures suit:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy grief, thy joy, thy hate, thy love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the fervor of thy lute:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Well may the stars be mute!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Yes, Heaven is thine; but this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is a world of sweets and sours;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our flowers are merely—flowers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the shadow of thy perfect bliss<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is the sunshine of ours.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">If I could dwell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where Israfel<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_86" id="page_86">{86}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hath dwelt, and he where I,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He might not sing so wildly well<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A mortal melody,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While a bolder note than this might swell<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From my lyre within the sky.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Edgar Allan Poe</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_87" id="page_87">{87}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="JAFFAR" id="JAFFAR"></a>JAFFÁR</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Jaffár, the Barmecide, the good Vizier,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The poor man’s hope, the friend without a peer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jaffár was dead, slain by a doom unjust;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And guilty Hàroun, sullen with mistrust<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of what the good, and e’en the bad, might say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ordained that no man living from that day<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should dare to speak his name on pain of death.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All Araby and Persia held their breath;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All but the brave Mondeer: he, proud to show<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How far for love a grateful soul could go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And facing death for very scorn and grief<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(For his great heart wanted a great relief),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stood forth in Bagdad daily, in the square<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where once had stood a happy house, and there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Harangued the tremblers at the scimitar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On all they owed to the divine Jaffár.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Bring me this man,” the caliph cried. The man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was brought, was gazed upon. The mutes began<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To bind his arms. “Welcome, brave cords,” cried he;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“From bonds far worse Jaffár delivered me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From wants, from shames, from loveless household fears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made a man’s eyes friends with delicious tears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Restored me, loved me, put me on a par<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With his great self. How can I pay Jaffár?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_88" id="page_88">{88}</a></span>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hàroun, who felt that on a soul like this<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mightiest vengeance could but fall amiss<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now deigned to smile, as one great lord of fate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Might smile upon another half as great.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He said, “Let worth grow frenzied if it will;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The caliph’s judgment shall be master still.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Go: and since gifts so move thee, take this gem,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The richest in the Tartar’s diadem,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hold the giver as thou deemest fit!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Gifts!” cried the friend; he took, and holding it<br /></span> -<span class="i0">High toward the heavens, as though to meet his star,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Exclaimed, “This, too, I owe to thee, Jaffár!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Leigh Hunt</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_89" id="page_89">{89}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_SONG_OF_SHERWOOD" id="A_SONG_OF_SHERWOOD"></a>A SONG OF SHERWOOD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gray and ghostly shadows are gliding through the brake;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shadows of the dappled deer, dreaming of the morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dreaming of a shadowy man that winds a shadowy horn.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Robin Hood is here again: all his merry thieves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hear a ghostly bugle-note shivering through the leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Merry, merry England has kissed the lips of June:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the wings of fairyland were here beneath the moon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a flight of rose-leaves fluttering in a mist<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of opal and ruby and pearl and amethyst.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Merry, merry England is waking as of old,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With eyes of blither hazel and hair of brighter gold:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Robin Hood is here again beneath the bursting spray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Love is in the greenwood building him a house<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of wild rose and hawthorn and honeysuckle boughs:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love is in the greenwood: dawn is in the skies;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Marian is waiting with a glory in her eyes.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hark! The dazzled laverock climbs the golden steep:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Marian is waiting: is Robin Hood asleep?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_90" id="page_90">{90}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round the fairy grass-rings frolic elf and fay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oberon, Oberon, rake away the gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rake away the red leaves, roll away the mould,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rake away the gold leaves, roll away the red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wake Will Scarlett from his leafy forest bed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Friar Tuck and Little John are riding down together<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With quarter-staff and drinking-can and gray goose-feather;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dead are coming back again; the years are rolled away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Softly over Sherwood the south wind blows;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the heart of England hid in every rose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hears across the greenwood the sunny whisper leap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hark, the voice of England wakes him as of old<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, shattering the silence with a cry of brighter gold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bugles in the greenwood echo from the steep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Sherwood in the red dawn, is Robin Hood asleep?</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Where the deer are gliding down the shadowy glen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All across the glades of fern he calls his merry men;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Doublets of the Lincoln green glancing through the May<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_91" id="page_91">{91}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Calls them and they answer: from aisles of oak and ash<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rings the <i>Follow! Follow!</i> and the boughs begin to crash;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ferns begin to flutter and the flowers begin to fly;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And through the crimson dawning the robber band goes by.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0"><i>Robin! Robin! Robin!</i> All his merry thieves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Answer as the bugle-note shivers through the leaves:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Calling as he used to call, faint and far away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Sherwood, in Sherwood, about the break of day.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Alfred Noyes</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 423px;"> -<a href="images/image091.png"> -<img src="images/image091.png" width="423" height="218" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_92" id="page_92">{92}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_DESTRUCTION_OF_SENNACHERIB" id="THE_DESTRUCTION_OF_SENNACHERIB"></a>THE DESTRUCTION OF SENNACHERIB<br /><br /> -<small>(710 <small>B.C.</small>)</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his cohorts were gleaming in purple and gold;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sheen of their spears was like stars on the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the blue wave rolls nightly on deep Galilee.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Like the leaves of the forest when Summer is green,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That host with their banners at sunset were seen:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like the leaves of the forest when Autumn hath blown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That host on the morrow lay withered and strown.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For the Angel of Death spread his wings on the blast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And breathed in the face of the foe as he passed:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the eyes of the sleepers waxed deadly and chill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And their hearts but once heaved, and for ever grew still!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there lay the steed with his nostrils all wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But through it there rolled not the breath of his pride;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the foam of his gasping lay white on the turf,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And cold as the spray of the rock-beating surf.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there lay the rider distorted and pale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the dew on his brow, and the rust on his mail;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the tents were all silent, the banners alone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lances unlifted, the trumpet unblown.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_93" id="page_93">{93}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the widows of Ashur are loud in their wail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the idols are broke in the temple of Baal;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the might of the Gentile, unsmote by the sword,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hath melted like snow in the glance of the Lord!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Lord Byron</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_94" id="page_94">{94}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="IVRY" id="IVRY"></a>IVRY<br /><br /> -<small>(March 14, 1590)</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And glory to our Sovereign Liege, King Henry of Navarre!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now let there be the merry sound of music and of dance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through thy corn-fields green, and sunny vines, oh pleasant land of France!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thou, Rochelle, our own Rochelle, proud city of the waters,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Again let rapture light the eyes of all thy mourning daughters.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As thou wert constant in our ills, be joyous in our joy;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For cold, and stiff, and still are they who wrought thy walls annoy.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hurrah! hurrah! a single field hath turned the chance of war.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hurrah! hurrah! for Ivry and Henry of Navarre.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Oh! how our hearts were beating, when, at the dawn of day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We saw the army of the League drawn out in long array;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With all its priest-led citizens, and all its rebel peers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Appenzel’s stout infantry and Egmont’s Flemish spears.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There rode the brood of false Lorraine, the curses of our land;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dark Mayenne was in the midst, a truncheon in his hand;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, as we looked on them, we thought of Seine’s empurpled flood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And good Coligni’s hoary hair all dabbled with his blood;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_95" id="page_95">{95}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we cried unto the living God, who rules the fate of war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To fight for His own holy name, and Henry of Navarre.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The King is come to marshal us, in all his armor dressed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he has bound a snow-white plume upon his gallant crest.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He looked upon his people, and a tear was in his eye;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He looked upon the traitors, and his glance was stern and high.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right graciously he smiled on us, as rolled from wing to wing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down all our line, a deafening shout: “God save our Lord the King!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“And if my standard-bearer fall, as fall full well he may,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For never saw I promise yet of such a bloody fray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Press where ye see my white plume shine, amidst the ranks of war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And be your oriflamme today the helmet of Navarre.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hurrah! the foes are moving. Hark to the mingled din,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of fife, and steed, and trump, and drum, and roaring culverin.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fiery Duke is pricking fast across Saint André’s plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With all the hireling chivalry of Guelders and Almayne.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now by the lips of those ye love, fair gentlemen of France,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Charge for the golden lilies,—upon them with the lance!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand spurs are striking deep, a thousand spears in rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand knights are pressing close behind the snow-white crest;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_96" id="page_96">{96}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in they burst, and on they rushed, while, like a guiding star,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amidst the thickest carnage blazed the helmet of Navarre.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now, God be praised, the day is ours. Mayenne hath turned his rein;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">D’Aumale hath cried for quarter; the Flemish count is slain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their ranks are breaking like thin clouds before a Biscay gale;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The field is heaped with bleeding steeds, and flags, and cloven mail.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then we thought on vengeance, and, all along our van,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Remember Saint Bartholomew!” was passed from man to man.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But out spake gentle Henry, “No Frenchman is my foe:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down, down with every foreigner, but let your brethren go.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh! was there ever such a knight, in friendship or in war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As our Sovereign Lord, King Henry, the soldier of Navarre?...<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ho! maidens of Vienna; ho! matrons of Lucerne;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Weep, weep, and rend your hair for those who never shall return.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ho! Philip, send, for charity, thy Mexican pistoles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That Antwerp monks may sing a mass for thy poor spearmen’s souls.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ho! gallant nobles of the League, look that your arms be bright;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_97" id="page_97">{97}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ho! burghers of St. Genevieve, keep watch and ward to-night;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For our God hath crushed the tyrant, our God hath raised the slave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And mocked the counsel of the wise, and the valor of the brave.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then glory to His holy name, from whom all glories are;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And glory to our Sovereign Lord, King Henry of Navarre!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Thomas Babington Macaulay</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 212px;"> -<a href="images/image097.png"> -<img src="images/image097.png" width="212" height="102" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_98" id="page_98">{98}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_TIGER" id="THE_TIGER"></a>THE TIGER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tiger! Tiger! burning bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the forests of the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What immortal hand or eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could frame thy fearful symmetry?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In what distant deeps or skies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Burnt the fire of thine eyes?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On what wings dare he aspire?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What the hand dare seize the fire?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And what shoulder, and what art,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could twist the sinews of thy heart?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when thy heart began to beat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What dread hand and what dread feet?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What the hammer? what the chain?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In what furnace was thy brain?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What the anvil? What dread grasp<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dare its deadly terrors clasp?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the stars threw down their spears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And watered heaven with their tears,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did He smile His work to see?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did He who made the Lamb, make thee?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_99" id="page_99">{99}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tiger! Tiger! burning bright,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the forests of the night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What immortal hand or eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Blake</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 271px;"> -<a href="images/image099.png"> -<img src="images/image099.png" width="271" height="268" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_100" id="page_100">{100}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_TERRIBLE_ROBBER_MEN" id="THE_TERRIBLE_ROBBER_MEN"></a>THE TERRIBLE ROBBER MEN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O! I wish the sun was bright in the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the fox was back in his den, O!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For always I’m hearing the passing by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the terrible robber men, O!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The terrible robber men.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O! what does the fox carry over the rye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When it’s bright in the morn again, O!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And what is it making the lonesome cry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With the terrible robber men, O!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The terrible robber men.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O! I wish the sun was bright in the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the fox was back in his den, O!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For always I’m hearing the passing by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the terrible robber men, O!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The terrible robber men.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Padraic Colum</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 213px;"> -<a href="images/image100.png"> -<img src="images/image100.png" width="213" height="145" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_101" id="page_101">{101}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="SIR_PATRICK_SPENS" id="SIR_PATRICK_SPENS"></a>SIR PATRICK SPENS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The king sits in Dunfermline toun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drinking the blude-red wine:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘O whare will I get a skeely skipper<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To sail this new ship of mine?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O up and spake an eldern knight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sat at the king’s right knee—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Sir Patrick Spens is the best sailor<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That ever sailed the sea.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our king has written a braid letter,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sealed it with his hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sent it to Sir Patrick Spens,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was walking on the strand.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘To Noroway, to Noroway,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Noroway o’er the faem;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The king’s daughter of Noroway,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis thou maun bring her hame.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The first word that Sir Patrick read,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sae loud loud laughed he;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The neist word that Sir Patrick read,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tear blinded his e’e.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘O wha is this has done this deed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tauld the king o’ me,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_102" id="page_102">{102}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">To send us out, at this time of the year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To sail upon the sea?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Be it wind, be it weet, be it hail, be it sleet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our ship must sail the faem;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The king’s daughter of Noroway,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis we must fetch her hame.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They hoysed their sails on Monenday morn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wi’ a’ the speed they may;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they hae landed in Noroway<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon a Wedensday.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They hadna been a week, a week<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Noroway but twae,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When that the lords o’ Noroway<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Began aloud to say:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Ye Scottishmen spend a’ our king’s gowd,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a’ our queenis fee.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Ye lie, ye lie, ye liars loud!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fu’ loud I hear ye lie!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘For I hae brought as much white monie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As gane my men and me—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I hae brought a half-fou’ o’ gude red gowd<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out o’er the sea wi’ me.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_103" id="page_103">{103}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Make ready, make ready, my merry men a’!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our gude ship sails the morn.’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Now ever alake, my master dear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I fear a deadly storm!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘I saw the new moon, late yestreen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wi’ the auld moon in her arm;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if we gang to sea, master,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I fear we’ll come to harm.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They hadna sail’d a league, a league,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A league but barely three,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the lift grew dark, and the wind blew loud,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And gurly grew the sea.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The ankers brak, and the top-masts lap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was sic a deadly storm;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the waves cam’ o’er the broken ship<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till a’ her sides were torn.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘O where will I get a gude sailor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To take my helm in hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till I get up to the tall top-mast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To see if I can spy land?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘O here am I, a sailor gude,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To take the helm in hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till ye get up to the tall top-mast:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I fear you’ll ne’er spy land.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_104" id="page_104">{104}</a></span>’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He hadna gane a step, a step,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A step but barely ane,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When a bout flew out of our goodly ship,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the salt sea it came in.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘Gae, fetch a web o’ the silken claith,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Another o’ the twine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And wap them into our ship’s side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And letna the sea come in.’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They fetch’d a web o’ the silken claith,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Another o’ the twine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they wapped them round that gude ship’s side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But still the sea came in.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O laith laith were our gude Scots lords<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To wet their cork-heeled shoon!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But lang ere a’ the play was play’d<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They wat their hats aboon.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And mony was the feather-bed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That floated on the faem,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And mony was the gude lord’s son<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That never mair came hame.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The ladyes wrang their fingers white—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The maidens tore their hair;<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_105" id="page_105">{105}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_008" style="width: 418px;"> -<a href="images/image105.jpg"> -<img src="images/image105.jpg" width="418" height="559" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_106" id="page_106">{106}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_107" id="page_107">{107}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A’ for the sake of their true loves—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For them they’ll see na mair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O lang lang may the ladyes sit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wi’ their fans into their hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Before they see Sir Patrick Spens<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come sailing to the strand!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And lang lang may the maidens sit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wi’ the goud kaims in their hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A’ waiting for their ain dear loves—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For them they’ll see na mair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O forty miles off Aberdour,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis fifty fathoms deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there lies gude Sir Patrick Spens,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wi’ the Scots lords at his feet.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Author Unknown</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_108" id="page_108">{108}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="BLOW_BLOW_THOU_WINTER_WIND" id="BLOW_BLOW_THOU_WINTER_WIND"></a>“BLOW, BLOW, THOU WINTER WIND”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Blow, blow, thou winter wind,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thou are not so unkind<br /></span> -<span class="i8">As man’s ingratitude;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thy tooth is not so keen,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Because thou art not seen,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Although thy breath be rude.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly;<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Then, heigh-ho! the holly!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">This life is most jolly!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Freeze, freeze, thou bitter sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thou dost not bite so nigh<br /></span> -<span class="i8">As benefits forgot:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Though thou the waters warp,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thy sting is not so sharp<br /></span> -<span class="i8">As friend remembered not.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heigh-ho! sing heigh-ho! unto the green holly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Most friendship is feigning, most loving mere folly;<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Then, heigh-ho, the holly!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">This life is most jolly!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Shakespeare</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_109" id="page_109">{109}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_PIED_PIPER_OF_HAMELIN" id="THE_PIED_PIPER_OF_HAMELIN"></a>THE PIED PIPER OF HAMELIN<br /><br /> -<small>(A Child’s Story)</small></h2> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 409px;"> -<a href="images/image109.png"> -<img src="images/image109.png" width="409" height="156" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h3>I</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By famous Hanover city;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The river Weser, deep and wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Washes its wall on the southern side;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A pleasanter spot you never spied;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, when begins my ditty,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Almost five hundred years ago,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To see the townsfolk suffer so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From vermin was a pity.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>II</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Rats!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They fought the dogs and killed the cats<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bit the babies in the cradles,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_110" id="page_110">{110}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ate the cheeses out of the vats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And licked the soup from the cook’s own ladles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Split open the kegs of salted sprats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made nests inside men’s Sunday hats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And even spoiled the women’s chats<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By drowning their speaking<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With shrieking and squeaking<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In fifty different sharps and flats.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>III</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At last the people in a body<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the Town Hall came flocking:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis clear,” cried they, “our Mayor’s a noddy;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as for our Corporation,—shocking<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To think we buy gowns lined with ermine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For dolts that can’t or won’t determine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What’s best to rid us of our vermin!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You hope, because you’re old and obese,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find in the furry civic robe ease?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rouse up, sirs! Give your brains a racking,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To find the remedy we’re lacking,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or, sure as fate, we’ll send you packing!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At this the Mayor and Corporation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Quaked with a mighty consternation.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An hour they sat in council,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At length the Mayor broke silence:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_111" id="page_111">{111}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">“For a guilder I’d my ermine gown sell;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wish I were a mile hence!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s easy to bid one rack one’s brain,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’m sure my poor head aches again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve scratched it so, and all in vain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh for a trap, a trap, a trap!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just as he said this, what should hap<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the chamber-door but a gentle tap?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Bless us,” cried the Mayor, “what’s that?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(With the Corporation as he sat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Looking little though wondrous fat;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor brighter was his eye, nor moister<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Than a too-long-opened oyster,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Save when at noon his paunch grew mutinous<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a plate of turtle green and glutinous)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Only a scraping of shoes on the mat?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Anything like the sound of a rat<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Makes my heart go pit-a-pat!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>V</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Come in!” the Mayor cried, looking bigger:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in did come the strangest figure!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His queer long coat from heel to head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was half of yellow and half of red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he himself was tall and thin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sharp blue eyes, each like a pin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And light loose hair, yet swarthy skin,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_112" id="page_112">{112}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">No tuft on cheek, nor beard on chin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But lips where smiles went out and in;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was no guessing his kith and kin:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And nobody could enough admire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The tall man and his quaint attire.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Quoth one: “It’s as my great-grandsire,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Starting up at the Trump of Doom’s tone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had walked this way from his painted tombstone!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>VI</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He advanced to the council-table:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, “Please your honors,” said he, “I’m able,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By means of a secret charm to draw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All creatures living beneath the sun,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That creep or swim or fly or run,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">After me so as you never saw!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I chiefly use my charm<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On creatures that do people harm,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The mole and toad and newt and viper;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And people call me the Pied Piper.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(And here they noticed round his neck<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A scarf of red and yellow stripe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To match with his coat of the self-same check,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And at the scarf’s end hung a pipe;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his fingers, they noticed, were ever straying<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if impatient to be playing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upon this pipe as low it dangled<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_113" id="page_113">{113}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over his vesture so old-fangled.)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Yet,” said he, “poor piper as I am,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Tartary I freed the Cham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Last June, from his huge swarms of gnats;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I eased in Asia the Nizam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a monstrous brood of vampire-bats;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as for what your brain bewilders,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I can rid your town of rats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will you give me a thousand guilders?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“One? fifty thousand!” was the exclamation<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the astonished Mayor and Corporation.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px;"> -<a href="images/image113.png"> -<img src="images/image113.png" width="408" height="158" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_114" id="page_114">{114}</a></span></p> - -<h3>VII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Into the street the Piper stepped,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Smiling first a little smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if he knew what magic slept<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his quiet pipe the while;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then, like a musical adept,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To blow the pipe his lips he wrinkled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And green and blue his sharp eyes twinkled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a candle-flame where salt is sprinkled;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ere three shrill notes the pipe uttered,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You heard as if an army muttered;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the muttering grew to a grumbling;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the grumbling grew to a mighty rumbling;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And out of the houses the rats came tumbling.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great rats, small rats, lean rats, brawny rats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brown rats, black rats, gray rats, tawny rats,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grave old plodders, gay young friskers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fathers, mothers, uncles, cousins,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cocking tails and pricking whiskers;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Families by tens and dozens,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brothers, sisters, husbands, wives,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Followed the Piper for their lives.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From street to street he piped advancing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And step for step they followed dancing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until they came to the river Weser,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherein all plunged and perished!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—Save one who, stout as Julius Caesar,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_115" id="page_115">{115}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Swam across and lived to carry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(As he, the manuscript he cherished)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To Rat-land home his commentary,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which was: “At the first shrill notes of the pipe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard the sound as of scraping tripe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And putting apples, wondrous ripe,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into a cider-press’s gripe,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a moving away of pickle-tub-boards,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a leaving ajar of conserve-cupboards,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a drawing the corks of train-oil-flasks,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a breaking the hoops of butter-casks;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it seemed as if a voice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Sweeter far than by harp or by psaltery<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is breathed) called out ‘Oh rats, rejoice!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The world is grown to one vast drysaltery!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So munch on, crunch on, take your nuncheon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Breakfast, supper, dinner, luncheon!’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And just as a bulky sugar-puncheon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Already staved, like a great sun shone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glorious scarce an inch before me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just as methought it said, ‘Come, bore me!’—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I found the Weser rolling o’er me.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 187px;"> -<a href="images/image115.png"> -<img src="images/image115.png" width="187" height="53" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_116" id="page_116">{116}</a></span></p> - -<h3>VIII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">You should have heard the Hamelin people<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ringing the bells till they rocked the steeple;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Go,” cried the Mayor, “and get long poles!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poke out the nests and block up the holes!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Consult with carpenters and builders,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And leave in our town not even a trace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the rats!”—when suddenly, up the face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the Piper perked in the market-place,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a “First, if you please, my thousand guilders!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>IX</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">A thousand guilders! the Mayor looked blue;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So did the Corporation too.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For council-dinners made rare havoc<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With Claret, Moselle, Vin-de-Grave, Hock;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And half the money would replenish<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their cellar’s biggest butt with Rhenish.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To pay this sum to a wandering fellow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a gypsy coat of red and yellow!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Beside,” quoth the Mayor, with a knowing wink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Our business was done at the river’s brink;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We saw with our eyes the vermin sink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And what’s dead can’t come to life, I think.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So, friend, we’re not the folks to shrink<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_117" id="page_117">{117}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the duty of giving you something to drink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a matter of money to put in your poke;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But as for the guilders, what we spoke<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of them, as you very well know, was in joke.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside, our losses have made us thrifty;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand guilders! Come, take fifty!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>X</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Piper’s face fell, and he cried,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“No trifling! I can’t wait! beside,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ve promised to visit by dinner time<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bagdat, and accept the prime<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the Head Cook’s pottage, all he’s rich in,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For having left, in the Caliph’s kitchen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a nest of scorpions no survivor;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With him I proved no bargain-driver;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With you, don’t think I’ll bate a stiver!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And folks who put me in a passion<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May find me pipe after another fashion.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 136px;"> -<a href="images/image117.png"> -<img src="images/image117.png" width="136" height="110" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_118" id="page_118">{118}</a></span></p> - -<h3>XI</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“How?” cried the Mayor, “d’ye think I brook<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Being worse treated than a Cook?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Insulted by a lazy ribald<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With idle pipe and vesture piebald?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You threaten us, fellow? Do your worst,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blow your pipe there till you burst!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 404px;"> -<a href="images/image118.png"> -<img src="images/image118.png" width="404" height="154" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<h3>XII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Once more he stepped into the street;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to his lips again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Laid his long pipe of smooth straight cane;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ere he blew three notes (such sweet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soft notes as jet musician’s cunning<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never gave the enraptured air)<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was a rustling that seemed like a bustling<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of merry crowds justling at pitching and hustling;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_119" id="page_119">{119}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Small feet were pattering, wooden shoes clattering,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little hands clapping, and little tongues chattering;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, like fowls in a farm-yard when barley is scattering,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out came the children running:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the little boys and girls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With rosy cheeks and flaxen curls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sparkling eyes and teeth like pearls,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tripping and skipping, ran merrily after<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wonderful music with shouting and laughter.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIII</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Mayor was dumb, and the Council stood<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if they were changed into blocks of wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unable to move a step, or cry<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the children merrily skipping by,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And could only follow with the eye<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That joyous crowd at the Piper’s back.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But how the Mayor was on the rack,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wretched Council’s bosoms beat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the Piper turned from the High Street<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To where the Weser rolled its waters<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right in the way of their sons and daughters!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">However, he turned from south to west,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And to Koppelberg Hill his steps addressed,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_120" id="page_120">{120}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And after him the children pressed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Great was the joy in every breast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“He never can cross that mighty top!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s forced to let the piping drop,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we shall see our children stop!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When, lo, as they reached the mountain-side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A wondrous portal opened wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if a cavern was suddenly hollowed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the Piper advanced and the children followed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when all were in, to the very last,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The door in the mountain-side shut fast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did I say, all? No! One was lame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And could not dance the whole of the way;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in after years, if you would blame<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His sadness, he was used to say,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“It’s dull in our town since my playmates left!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I can’t forget that I am bereft<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all the pleasant sights they see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which the Piper also promised me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he led us, he said, to a joyous land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Joining the town and just at hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where waters gushed, and fruit-trees grew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flowers put forth a fairer hue,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And everything was strange and new;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sparrows were brighter than peacocks here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And their dogs outran our fallow deer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And honey-bees had lost their stings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And horses were born with eagles’ wings;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_121" id="page_121">{121}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And just as I became assured<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My lame foot would be speedily cured,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The music stopped and I stood still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And found myself outside the hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Left alone against my will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To go now limping as before,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never hear of that country more!”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XIV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Alas, alas for Hamelin!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There came into many a burgher’s pate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A text which says that heaven’s gate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Opes to the rich at as easy rate<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the needle’s eye takes a camel in!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Mayor sent East, West, North and South,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To offer the Piper, by word of mouth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherever it was men’s lot to find him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Silver and gold to his heart’s content,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If he’d only return the way he went,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bring the children behind him.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But when they saw ’twas a lost endeavor,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And piper and dancers were gone forever,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They made a decree that lawyers never<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should think their records dated duly<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If, after the day of the month and year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These words did not as well appear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“And so long after what happened here<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_122" id="page_122">{122}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the Twenty-second of July,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thirteen hundred and seventy-six:”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the better in memory to fix<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The place of the children’s last retreat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They called it, the Pied Piper Street—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where any one playing on pipe or tabor<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was sure for the future to lose his labor.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor suffered they hostelry or tavern<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To shock with mirth a street so solemn;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But opposite the place of the cavern<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They wrote the story on a column,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on the great church-window painted<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The same, to make the world acquainted<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How their children were stolen away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there it stands to this very day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I must not omit to say<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That in Transylvania there’s a tribe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of alien people who ascribe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The outlandish ways and dress<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On which their neighbors lay such stress,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To their fathers and mothers having risen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out of some subterraneous prison<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into which they were trepanned<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long time ago in a mighty band<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out of Hamelin town in Brunswick land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But how or why, they don’t understand.<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_123" id="page_123">{123}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h3>XV</h3> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So, Willy, let me and you be wipers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of scores out with all men—especially pipers!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, whether they pipe us free from rats or from mice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If we’ve promised them aught, let us keep our promise!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Robert Browning</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> -<a href="images/image123.png"> -<img src="images/image123.png" width="413" height="156" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_124" id="page_124">{124}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="TIME_YOU_OLD_GIPSY_MAN" id="TIME_YOU_OLD_GIPSY_MAN"></a>“TIME, YOU OLD GIPSY MAN”</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Time, you old gipsy man,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will you not stay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put up your caravan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just for one day?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All things I’ll give you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will you be my guest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bells for your jennet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of silver the best,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Goldsmiths shall beat you<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A great golden ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Peacocks shall bow to you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Little boys sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, and sweet girls will<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Festoon you with may.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time, you old gipsy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why hasten away?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Last week in Babylon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Last night in Rome,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Morning, and in the crush<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under Paul’s dome;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under Paul’s dial<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You tighten your rein—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Only a moment,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And off once again;<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_125" id="page_125">{125}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_009" style="width: 419px;"> -<a href="images/image125.jpg"> -<img src="images/image125.jpg" width="419" height="557" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_126" id="page_126">{126}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_127" id="page_127">{127}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Off to some city<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now blind in the womb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Off to another<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere that’s in the tomb.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Time, you old gipsy man,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will you not stay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put up your caravan<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Just for one day?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Ralph Hodgson</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 114px;"> -<a href="images/image127.png"> -<img src="images/image127.png" width="114" height="87" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_128" id="page_128">{128}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_SOLITARY_REAPER" id="THE_SOLITARY_REAPER"></a>THE SOLITARY REAPER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Behold her, single in the field,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yon solitary Highland Lass!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Reaping and singing by herself;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stop here, or gently pass!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone she cuts and binds the grain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sings a melancholy strain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O listen! for the Vale profound<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is overflowing with the sound.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No Nightingale did ever chaunt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">More welcome notes to weary bands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of travellers in some shady haunt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among Arabian sands:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A voice so thrilling ne’er was heard<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In spring-time from the Cuckoo-bird,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Breaking the silence of the seas<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among the farthest Hebrides.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Will no one tell me what she sings?—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For old, unhappy, far-off things,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And battles long ago:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or is it some more humble lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Familiar matter of to-day?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That has been, and may be again?<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_129" id="page_129">{129}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Whate’er the theme, the Maiden sang<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As if her song could have no ending;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw her singing at her work,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And o’er the sickle bending;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I listened, motionless and still;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, as I mounted up the hill<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The music in my heart I bore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long after it was heard no more.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Wordsworth</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 340px;"> -<a href="images/image129.png"> -<img src="images/image129.png" width="340" height="204" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_130" id="page_130">{130}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="MY_LOST_YOUTH" id="MY_LOST_YOUTH"></a>MY LOST YOUTH</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Often I think of the beautiful town<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That is seated by the sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Often in thought go up and down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The pleasant streets of that dear old town,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my youth comes back to me.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a verse of a Lapland song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is haunting my memory still:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the thoughts of youth, are long, long thoughts.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I can see the shadowy lines of its trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And catch, in sudden gleams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sheen of the far-surrounding seas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And islands that were the Hesperides<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of all my boyish dreams.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the burden of that old song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It murmurs and whispers still:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I remember the black wharves and the slips,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sea-tides tossing free;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Spanish sailors with bearded lips,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the beauty and mystery of the ships,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the magic of the sea.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_131" id="page_131">{131}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the voice of that wayward song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is singing and saying still:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I remember the bulwarks by the shore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the fort upon the hill;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sunrise gun, with its hollow roar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The drum-beat repeated o’er and o’er,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bugle wild and shrill.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the music of that old song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Throbs in my memory still:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I remember the sea-fight far away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How it thundered o’er the tide!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the dead captains, as they lay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In their graves, o’erlooking the tranquil bay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where they in battle died.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the sound of that mournful song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Goes through me with a thrill:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I can see the breezy dome of groves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The shadows of Deering’s Woods;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the friendships old and the early loves<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_132" id="page_132">{132}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In quiet neighborhoods.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the verse of that sweet old song,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It flutters and murmurs still:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I remember the gleams and glooms that dart<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the school-boy’s brain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The song and the silence in the heart,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That in part are prophecies, and in part<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are longings wild and vain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the voice of that fitful song<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sings on, and is never still:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A boy’s will is the wind’s will,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts.”...<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</i><br /></div> -<a href="images/image132.png"> -<img src="images/image132.png" width="145" height="136" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_133" id="page_133">{133}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="BATTLE-HYMN_OF_THE_REPUBLIC" id="BATTLE-HYMN_OF_THE_REPUBLIC"></a>BATTLE-HYMN OF THE REPUBLIC</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He hath loosed the fateful lighting of His terrible swift sword;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">His truth is marching on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I have seen Him in the watch-fires of a hundred circling camps;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have builded Him an altar in the evening dews and damps;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I can read his righteous sentence by the dim and flaring lamps;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">His day is marching on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I have read a fiery gospel, writ in burnished rows of steel:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“As ye deal with my contemners, so with you my grace shall deal;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let the Hero, born of woman, crush the serpent with his heel,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Since God is marching on.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He is sifting out the hearts of men before His judgment-seat:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, be swift, my soul, to answer Him! be jubilant, my feet!<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Our God is marching on.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_134" id="page_134">{134}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the beauty of the lilies Christ was born across the sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a glory in His bosom that transfigures you and me:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As He died to make men holy, let us die to make men free,<br /></span> -<span class="i4">While God is marching on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Julia Ward Howe</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 242px;"> -<a href="images/image134.png"> -<img src="images/image134.png" width="242" height="261" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_135" id="page_135">{135}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="GATHERING_SONG_OF_DONALD_DHU" id="GATHERING_SONG_OF_DONALD_DHU"></a>GATHERING SONG OF DONALD DHU</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Pibroch of Donuil Dhu,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pibroch of Donuil,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wake thy wild voice anew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Summon Clan Conuil.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come away, come away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hark to the summons!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come in your war-array,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gentles and commons.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come from deep glen, and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From mountain so rocky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The war-pipe and pennon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are at Inverlochy.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come every hill-plaid, and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">True heart that wears one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come every steel blade, and<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Strong hand that bears one.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Leave untended the herd,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The flock without shelter;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leave the corpse uninterr’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bride at the altar;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leave the deer, leave the steer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leave nets and barges:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come with your fighting gear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Broadswords and targes.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_136" id="page_136">{136}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come as the winds come, when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forests are rended;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come as the waves come, when<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Navies are stranded:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faster come, faster come,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Faster and faster,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Chief, vassal, page and groom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tenant and master.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Fast they come, fast they come;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See how they gather!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wide waves the eagle plume<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blended with heather.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cast your plaids, draw your blades,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forward each man set!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pibroch of Donuil Dhu<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Knell for the onset!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Sir Walter Scott</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 360px;"> -<a href="images/image136.png"> -<img src="images/image136.png" width="360" height="92" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_137" id="page_137">{137}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_MINSTREL-BOY" id="THE_MINSTREL-BOY"></a>THE MINSTREL-BOY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the ranks of death you’ll find him;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His father’s sword he has girded on,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And his wild harp slung behind him.—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Land of song!’ said the warrior-bard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Though all the world betrays thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>One</i> sword, at least, thy rights shall guard,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>One</i> faithful harp shall praise thee!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Minstrel fell!—but the foeman’s chain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Could not bring his proud soul under;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The harp he loved ne’er spoke again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he tore its chords asunder;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And said, ‘No chains shall sully thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou soul of love and bravery!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy songs were made for the brave and free,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They shall never sound in slavery!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Thomas Moore</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 217px;"> -<a href="images/image137.png"> -<img src="images/image137.png" width="217" height="186" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_138" id="page_138">{138}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="BANNOCKBURN" id="BANNOCKBURN"></a>BANNOCKBURN<br /><br /> -<small>(<i>Robert Bruce’s Address to His Army</i>)</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Scots, wham Bruce has aften led;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Welcome to your gory bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or to glorious victorie.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See the front o’ battle lower;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See approach proud Edward’s power—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Edward! chains and slaverie!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wha will be a traitor knave?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wha can fill a coward’s grave?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wha sae base as be a slave?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Traitor! coward! turn and flee!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wha for Scotland’s King and law<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Freedom’s sword will strongly draw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Free-man stand, or free-man fa’?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Caledonian! on wi’ me!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By oppression’s woes and pains!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By your sons in servile chains!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We will drain our dearest veins,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But they shall—they <i>shall</i> be free!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_139" id="page_139">{139}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Lay the proud usurpers low!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tyrants fall in every foe!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Liberty’s in every blow!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forward! let us do, or die!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Robert Burns</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 274px;"> -<a href="images/image139.png"> -<img src="images/image139.png" width="274" height="313" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_140" id="page_140">{140}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="FABLE" id="FABLE"></a>FABLE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The mountain and the squirrel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Had a quarrel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the former called the latter “Little Prig;”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bun replied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“You are doubtless very big;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But all sorts of things and weather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Must be taken in together,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make up a year<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a sphere.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I think it no disgrace<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To occupy my place.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I’m not so large as you,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You are not so small as I,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And not half so spry.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’ll not deny you make<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A very pretty squirrel track;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Talents differ; all is well and wisely put;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I cannot carry forests on my back,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Neither can you crack a nut.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Ralph Waldo Emerson</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 64px;"> -<a href="images/image140.png"> -<img src="images/image140.png" width="64" height="85" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_141" id="page_141">{141}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="GOOD_HOURS" id="GOOD_HOURS"></a>GOOD HOURS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I had for my winter evening walk—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No one at all with whom to talk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I had the cottages in a row<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up to their shining eyes in snow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I thought I had the folk within:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I had the sound of a violin;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I had a glimpse through curtain laces<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of youthful forms and youthful faces.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I had such company outward bound.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I went till there were no cottages found.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I turned and repented, but coming back<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I saw no window but that was black.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Over the snow my creaking feet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Disturbed the slumbering village street<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like profanation, by your leave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At ten o’clock of a winter eve.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Robert Frost</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_142" id="page_142">{142}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="WINTER" id="WINTER"></a>WINTER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When icicles hang by the wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Dick the shepherd blows his nail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Tom bears logs into the hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And milk comes frozen home in pail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When blood is nipt, and ways be foul,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then nightly sings the staring owl,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Tuwhoo!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When all around the wind doth blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And coughing drowns the parson’s saw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And birds sit brooding in the snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Marian’s nose looks red and raw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When roasted crabs hiss in the bowl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then nightly sings the staring owl<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Tuwhoo!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tuwhit! tuwhoo! A merry note!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While greasy Joan doth keel the pot.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Shakespeare</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_143" id="page_143">{143}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_CHANTED_CALENDAR" id="A_CHANTED_CALENDAR"></a>A CHANTED CALENDAR</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">First came the primrose,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">On the bank high,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Like a maiden looking forth<br /></span> -<span class="i10">From the window of a tower<br /></span> -<span class="i10">When the battle rolls below,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">So looked she,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And saw the storms go by.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">Then came the wind-flower<br /></span> -<span class="i10">In the valley left behind,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">As a wounded maiden, pale<br /></span> -<span class="i10">With purple streaks of woe,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">When the battle has rolled by<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Wanders to and fro<br /></span> -<span class="i10">So tottered she,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Dishevelled in the wind.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">Then came the daisies,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">On the first of May<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Like a bannered show’s advance<br /></span> -<span class="i10">While the crowd runs by the way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With ten thousand flowers about them they came trooping through the fields.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">As a happy people come,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">So came they,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_144" id="page_144">{144}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i10">As a happy people come<br /></span> -<span class="i10">When the war has rolled away,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">With dance and tabor, pipe and drum,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And all make holiday.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i10">Then came the cowslip,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Like a dancer in the fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">She spread her little mat of green,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And on it danced she.<br /></span> -<span class="i10">With a fillet bound about her brow,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">A fillet round her happy brow,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">A golden fillet round her brow,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">And rubies in her hair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Sydney Dobell</i><br /></div> -<a href="images/image144.png"> -<img src="images/image144.png" width="177" height="241" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_145" id="page_145">{145}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_CLOUD" id="THE_CLOUD"></a>THE CLOUD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the seas and the streams;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I bear light shade for the leaves when laid<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In their noonday dreams.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From my wings are shaken the dews that waken<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sweet buds every one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When rocked to rest on their mother’s breast<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As she dances about the sun.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wield the flail of the lashing hail,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And whiten the green plains under;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then again I dissolve it in rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And laugh as I pass in thunder.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I sift the snow on the mountains below,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And their great pines groan aghast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the night ’tis my pillow white,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">While I sleep in the arms of the blast.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sublime on the towers of my skiey bowers<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Lightning my pilot sits;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a cavern under is fettered the thunder,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">It struggles and howls at fits.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Over earth and ocean, with gentle motion,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">This pilot is guiding me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lured by the love of the Genii that move<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the depths of the purple sea;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_146" id="page_146">{146}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over the rills, and the crags, and the hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Over the lakes and the plains,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wherever he dream, under mountain or stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Spirit he loves remains;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I all the while bask in heaven’s blue smile,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whilst he is dissolving in rains.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The sanguine Sunrise, with his meteor eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And his burning plumes outspread,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leaps on the back of my sailing rack,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the morning star shines dead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As on the jag of a mountain-crag,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which an earthquake rocks and swings,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An eagle alit one moment may sit<br /></span> -<span class="i2">In the light of its golden wings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, when Sunset may breathe, from the lit sea beneath,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Its ardors of rest and of love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the crimson pall of eve may fall<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the depth of heaven above,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With wings folded I rest on mine airy nest,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">As still as a brooding dove.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That orbèd maiden with white fire laden,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Whom mortals call the Moon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Glides glimmering o’er my fleece-like floor,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By the midnight breezes strewn;<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_147" id="page_147">{147}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_010" style="width: 419px;"> -<a href="images/image147.jpg"> -<img src="images/image147.jpg" width="419" height="568" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_148" id="page_148">{148}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_149" id="page_149">{149}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And wherever the beat of her unseen feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which only the angels hear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May have broken the woof of my tent’s thin roof,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The Stars peep behind her and peer.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I laugh to see them whirl and flee<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Like a swarm of golden bees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I widen the rent in my wind-built tent,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Till the calm rivers, lakes, and seas,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like strips of the sky fallen through me on high,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Are each paved with the moon and these.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I bind the Sun’s throne with a burning zone,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the Moon’s with a girdle of pearl;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The volcanoes are dim, and the Stars reel and swim,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the Whirlwinds my banner unfurl.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From cape to cape, with a bridge-like shape,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Over a torrent sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sunbeam-proof, I hang like a roof;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The mountains its columns be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The triumphal arch through which I march,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With hurricane, fire and snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the Powers of the air are chained to my chair,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Is the million-colored bow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Sphere-fire above its soft colors wove,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">While the moist Earth was laughing below.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I am the daughter of Earth and Water,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And the nursling of the Sky:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_150" id="page_150">{150}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I pass through the pores of the ocean and shores;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I change, but I cannot die.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For after the rain, when with never a stain<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The pavilion of heaven is bare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the winds and sunbeams with their convex gleams<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Build up the blue dome of air,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I silently laugh at my own cenotaph,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And out of the caverns of rain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a child from the womb, like a ghost from the tomb,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I arise and unbuild it again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Percy Bysshe Shelley</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 264px;"> -<a href="images/image150.png"> -<img src="images/image150.png" width="264" height="259" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_151" id="page_151">{151}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="BUGLE_SONG" id="BUGLE_SONG"></a>BUGLE SONG</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The splendor falls on castle walls<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And snowy summits old in story:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The long light shakes across the lakes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wild cataract leaps in glory.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O hark, O hear! how thin and clear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thinner, clearer, farther going!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O sweet and far from cliff and scar<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The horns of Elfland faintly blowing!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blow, let us hear the purple glens replying:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blow, bugle; answer, echoes, dying, dying, dying.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O love, they die in yon rich sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They faint on hill or field or river:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our echoes roll from soul to soul,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And grow for ever and for ever.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blow, bugle, blow, set the wild echoes flying,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And answer, echoes, answer, dying, dying, dying.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Alfred Tennyson</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_152" id="page_152">{152}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="THE_FORSAKEN_MERMAN" id="THE_FORSAKEN_MERMAN"></a>THE FORSAKEN MERMAN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come, dear children, let us away;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Down and away below!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now my brothers call from the bay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the great winds shoreward blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the salt tides seaward flow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now the wild white horses play,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Champ and chafe and toss in the spray.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Children dear, let us away!<br /></span> -<span class="i5">This way, this way!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Call her once before you go.—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Call once yet!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a voice that she will know:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“Margaret! Margaret!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Children’s voices should be dear.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Call once more) to a mother’s ear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Children’s voices, wild with pain,—<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Surely she will come again!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Call her once and come away;<br /></span> -<span class="i5">This way, this way!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Mother dear, we cannot stay!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wild white horses foam and fret.”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Margaret! Margaret!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come, dear children, come away down;<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Call no more!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One last look at the white-walled town,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_153" id="page_153">{153}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the little gray church on the windy shore;<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Then come down!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She will not come, though you call all day;<br /></span> -<span class="i5">Come away, come away!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Children dear, was it yesterday<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We heard the sweet bells over the bay?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the caverns where we lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the surf and through the swell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The far-off sound of a silver bell?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sand-strewn caverns, cool and deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the winds are all asleep;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the spent lights quiver and gleam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the salt weed sways in the stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the sea-beasts, ranged all round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Feed in the ooze of their pasture-ground;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the sea-snakes coil and twine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Dry their mail and bask in the brine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where great whales come sailing by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sail and sail, with unshut eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round the world for ever and aye?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When did music come this way?<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Children dear, was it yesterday?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Children dear, was it yesterday<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(Call yet once) that she went away?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once she sate with you and me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On a red gold throne in the heart of the sea,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_154" id="page_154">{154}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the youngest sate on her knee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She combed its bright hair, and she tended it well,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When down swung the sound of the far-off bell.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She sighed, she looked up through the clear green sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She said: “I must go, for my kinsfolk pray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the little gray church on the shore to-day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Twill be Easter-time in the world,—ah me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I lose my poor soul, Merman, here with thee.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I said: “Go up, dear heart, through the waves:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Say thy prayer, and come back to the kind sea-caves!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She smiled, she went up through the surf in the bay.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Children dear, was it yesterday?<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 158px;"> -<a href="images/image154.png"> -<img src="images/image154.png" width="158" height="111" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i2">Children dear, were we long alone?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long prayers,” I said, “in the world they say;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come!” I said, and we rose through the surf in the bay.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We went up the beach, by the sandy down<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where the sea-stocks bloom, to the white-walled town,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the narrow paved streets, where all was still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the little gray church on the windy hill.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the church came a murmur of folk at their prayers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But we stood without in the cold blowing airs.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_155" id="page_155">{155}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">We climbed on the graves, on the stones worn with rains,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we gazed up the aisle through the small leaded panes.<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She sate by the pillar; we saw her clear:<br /></span> -<span class="i2">“Margaret, hist! come quick, we are here!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Dear heart,” I said, “we are long alone;<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sea grows stormy, the little ones moan.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, ah, she gave me never a look,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For her eyes were sealed to the holy book!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Loud prays the priest; shut stands the door.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Come away, children, call no more!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Come away, come down, call no more!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Down, down, down!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Down to the depths of the sea!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She sits at her wheel in the humming town,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Singing most joyfully.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hark what she sings: “O joy, O joy,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the humming street, and the child with its toy!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the priest and the bell, and the holy well;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">For the wheel where I spun,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And the blessed light of the sun!”<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And so she sings her fill,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Singing most joyfully,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Till the spindle drops from her hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And the whizzing wheel stands still.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She steals to the window, and looks at the sand,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And over the sand at the sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And her eyes are set in a stare,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_156" id="page_156">{156}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i6">And anon there breaks a sigh,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And anon there drops a tear,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">From a sorrow-clouded eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And a heart sorrow-laden,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">A long, long sigh;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For the cold strange eyes of a little Mermaiden,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the gleam of her golden hair.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i6">Come away, away, children;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Come, children, come down!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The hoarse wind blows coldly;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Lights shine in the town.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">She will start from her slumber<br /></span> -<span class="i6">When gusts shake the door;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">She will hear the winds howling,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Will hear the waves roar.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">We shall see, while above us<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The waves roar and whirl,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">A ceiling of amber,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">A pavement of pearl<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Singing: “Here came a mortal,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">But faithless was she!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And alone dwell for ever<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The kings of the sea.”<br /></span> -<span class="i6">But, children, at midnight,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">When soft the winds blow,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">When clear falls the moonlight,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">When spring-tides are low;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_157" id="page_157">{157}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i6">When sweet airs come seaward<br /></span> -<span class="i6">From heaths starred with broom,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And high rocks throw mildly<br /></span> -<span class="i6">On the blanched sands a gloom;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Up the still, glistening beaches,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Up the creeks we will hie;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Over banks of bright seaweed<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The ebb-tide leaves dry.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">We will gaze, from the sand-hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">At the white, sleeping town;<br /></span> -<span class="i6">At the church on the hillside—<br /></span> -<span class="i6">And then come back down.<br /></span> -<span class="i6">Singing: “There dwells a loved one,<br /></span> -<span class="i6">But cruel is she!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">She left lonely for ever<br /></span> -<span class="i6">The kings of the sea.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Matthew Arnold</i><br /></div> -<a href="images/image157.png"> -<img src="images/image157.png" width="138" height="136" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_158" id="page_158">{158}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="NURSES_SONG" id="NURSES_SONG"></a>NURSE’S SONG</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the voices of children are heard on the green<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And laughing is heard on the hill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My heart is at rest within my breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And everything else is still.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Then come home, my children, the sun is gone down,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the dews of night arise;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come, come, leave off play, and let us away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till the morning appears in the skies.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“No, no, let us play, for it is yet day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we cannot go to sleep;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Besides in the sky the little birds fly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the hills are all covered with sheep.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Well, well, go and play till the light fades away,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then go home to bed.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The little ones leaped and shouted and laughed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the hills echoèd.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Blake</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_159" id="page_159">{159}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="TO_A_MOUSE" id="TO_A_MOUSE"></a>TO A MOUSE<br /><br /> -<small>(<i>On Turning Up Her Nest with the Plough, November, 1785</i>)</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O, what a panic’s in thy breastie!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou need na start awa’ sae hasty,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wi’ bickering brattle!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wad be laith to rin an’ chase thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Wi’ murd’ring pattle!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I’m truly sorry man’s dominion<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has broken Nature’s social union,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ justifies that ill opinion,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Which makes thee startle<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At me, thy poor, earth-born companion,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An’ fellow-mortal!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I doubt na, whiles, but thou may thieve;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What then? poor beastie, thou maun live!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A daimen icker in a thrave<br /></span> -<span class="i2">’S a sma’ request;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll get a blessin’ wi’ the lave,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">And never miss’t!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thy wee bit housie, too, in ruin!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its silly wa’s the win’s are strewin’!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_160" id="page_160">{160}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ naething, now, to big a new ane,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">O’ foggage green!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ bleak December’s wind ensuin’,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Baith snell an’ keen!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thou saw the fields laid bare an’ waste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ weary winter comin’ fast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ cozie here, beneath the blast,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thou thought to dwell,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till, crash! the cruel coulter passed<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Out through thy cell.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That wee bit heap o’ leaves an’ stibble<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Has cost thee mony a weary nibble!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Now thou’s turned out, for a’ thy trouble,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">But house or hald,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To thole the winter’s sleety dribble,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">An cranreuch cauld!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But, Mousie, thou art no thy lane,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In proving foresight may be vain:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The best-laid schemes o’ mice an’ men,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Gang aft a-gley,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ lea’e us naught but grief an’ pain,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For promised joy!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Still thou art blest, compared wi’ me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The present only toucheth thee:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_161" id="page_161">{161}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">But, och! I backward cast my e’e<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On prospects drear!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ forward, though I canna see,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I guess an’ fear!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Robert Burns</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 291px;"> -<a href="images/image161.png"> -<img src="images/image161.png" width="291" height="290" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_162" id="page_162">{162}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_FAIRIES" id="THE_FAIRIES"></a>THE FAIRIES</h2> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 279px;"> -<a href="images/image162.png"> -<img src="images/image162.png" width="279" height="358" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up the airy mountain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the rushy glen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We daren’t go a-hunting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For fear of little men;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_163" id="page_163">{163}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wee folk, good folk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trooping all together;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Green jacket, red cap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And white owl’s feather!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Down along the rocky shore<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some make their home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They live on crispy pancakes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of yellow tide-foam;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Some in the reeds<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the black mountain lake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With frogs for their watch-dogs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All night awake.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">High on the hill-top<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The old King sits;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He is now so old and gray<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s nigh lost his wits.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a bridge of white mist<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Columbkill he crosses,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On his stately journeys<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From Slieveleague to Rosses;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or going up with music<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On cold starry nights<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To sup with the Queen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the gay Northern Lights.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They stole little Bridget<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For seven years long;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_164" id="page_164">{164}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">When she came down again<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her friends were all gone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They took her lightly back,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Between the night and morrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They thought that she was fast asleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she was dead with sorrow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have kept her ever since<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep within the lake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On a bed of flag-leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Watching till she wake.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">By the craggy hill-side,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the mosses bare,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They have planted thorn-trees<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For pleasure here and there.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If any man so daring<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As dig them up in spite,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He shall find their sharpest thorns<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In his bed at night.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Up the airy mountain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the rushy glen,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We daren’t go a-hunting<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For fear of little men;<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_165" id="page_165">{165}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_011" style="width: 415px;"> -<a href="images/image165.jpg"> -<img src="images/image165.jpg" width="415" height="566" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_166" id="page_166">{166}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_167" id="page_167">{167}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Wee folk, good folk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Trooping all together;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Green jacket, red cap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And white owl’s feather.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Allingham</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 181px;"> -<a href="images/image167.png"> -<img src="images/image167.png" width="181" height="236" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_168" id="page_168">{168}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="LA_BELLE_DAME_SANS_MERCI" id="LA_BELLE_DAME_SANS_MERCI"></a>LA BELLE DAME SANS MERCI</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone and palely loitering?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sedge has withered from the lake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And no birds sing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So haggard and so woe-begone?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The squirrel’s granary is full,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the harvest’s done.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I see a lily on thy brow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With anguish moist and fever-dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on thy cheeks a fading rose<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fast withereth too.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I met a lady in the meads,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Full beautiful—a faery’s child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her hair was long, her foot was light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And her eyes were wild.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I made a garland for her head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And bracelets too, and fragrant zone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She looked at me as she did love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And made sweet moan.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I set her on my pacing steed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And nothing else saw all day long,<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_169" id="page_169">{169}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_012" style="width: 423px;"> -<a href="images/image169.jpg"> -<img src="images/image169.jpg" width="423" height="571" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_170" id="page_170">{170}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_171" id="page_171">{171}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For sideways would she bend, and sing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A faery’s song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She found me roots of relish sweet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And honey wild and manna-dew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sure in language strange she said,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I love thee true.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She took me to her elfin grot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there she wept and sighed full sore;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there I shut her wild, wild eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With kisses four.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And there she lullèd me asleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there I dreamed—Ah! woe betide!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The latest dream I ever dreamed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the cold hill’s side.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I saw pale kings and princes too,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pale warriors, death-pale were they all:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They cried—“La belle dame sans merci<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hath thee in thrall!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I saw their starved lips in the gloam<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With horrid warning gapèd wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I awoke and found me here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the cold hill’s side.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_172" id="page_172">{172}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And this is why I sojourn here<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone and palely loitering,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Though the sedge is withered from the lake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And no birds sing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>John Keats</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 413px;"> -<a href="images/image172.png"> -<img src="images/image172.png" width="413" height="172" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_173" id="page_173">{173}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_174" id="page_174">{174}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_013" style="width: 411px;"> -<a href="images/image174.jpg"> -<img src="images/image174.jpg" width="411" height="555" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_175" id="page_175">{175}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="SPRING" id="SPRING"></a>SPRING</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The palm and may make country houses gay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we hear aye, birds tune this merry lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In every street, these tunes our ears do greet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Spring! the sweet Spring!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Thomas Nashe</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 142px;"> -<a href="images/image175.png"> -<img src="images/image175.png" width="142" height="163" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_176" id="page_176">{176}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="I_WANDERED_LONELY" id="I_WANDERED_LONELY"></a>‘I WANDERED LONELY’</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I wandered lonely as a cloud<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That floats on high o’er vales and hills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When all at once I saw a crowd,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A host, of golden daffodils;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beside the lake, beneath the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fluttering and dancing in the breeze.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Continuous as the stars that shine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And twinkle on the milky way,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They stretched in never-ending line<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Along the margin of a bay:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ten thousand saw I at a glance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tossing their heads in sprightly dance.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The waves beside them danced; but they<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out-did the sparkling waves in glee:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A poet could not but be gay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In such a jocund company:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I gazed—and gazed—but little thought<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What wealth the show to me had brought:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For oft, when on my couch I lie<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In vacant or in pensive mood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They flash upon that inward eye<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_177" id="page_177">{177}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which is the bliss of solitude;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then my heart with pleasure fills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And dances with the daffodils.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William Wordsworth</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 270px;"> -<a href="images/image177.png"> -<img src="images/image177.png" width="270" height="265" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_178" id="page_178">{178}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_GAY_GOS-HAWK" id="THE_GAY_GOS-HAWK"></a>THE GAY GOS-HAWK</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O well is me, my gay gos-hawk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That you can speak and flee;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For you can carry a love-letter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To my true love frae me.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O how can I carry a letter to her,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or how should I her know?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I bear a tongue ne’er wi’ her spak’,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And eyes that ne’er her saw.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The white o’ my love’s skin is white<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As down o’ dove or maw;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The red o’ my love’s cheek is red<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As blood that’s spilt on snaw.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“When ye come to the castle,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Light on the tree of ash,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sit ye there, and sing our loves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As she comes frae the mass.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Four and twenty fair ladies<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Will to the mass repair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And weel may ye my lady ken,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The fairest lady there.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When the gos-hawk flew to that castle,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He lighted on the ash;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_179" id="page_179">{179}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there he sat and sang their loves<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As she came frae the mass.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Stay where ye be, my maidens a’,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sip red wine anon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till I go to my west window<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And hear a birdie’s moan.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She’s gane unto her west window,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bolt she fainly drew;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And unto that lady’s white, white neck<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bird a letter threw.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 347px;"> -<a href="images/image179.png"> -<img src="images/image179.png" width="347" height="111" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Ye’re bidden to send your love a send,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he has sent you twa;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tell him where he may see you soon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or he cannot live ava.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I send him the ring from my finger,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The garland off my hair,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_180" id="page_180">{180}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">I send him the heart that’s in my breast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What would my love have mair?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And at the fourth kirk in fair Scotland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye’ll bid him wait for me there.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She hied her to her father dear<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As fast as gang could she:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I’m sick at the heart, my father dear;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An asking grant you me!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Ask ye na for that Scottish lord,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For him ye’ll never see!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“An asking, an asking, dear father!” she says,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“An asking grant you me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That if I die in fair England,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Scotland ye’ll bury me.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“At the first kirk o’ fair Scotland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye cause the bells be rung;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the second kirk o’ fair Scotland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye cause the mass be sung;<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“At the third kirk o’ fair Scotland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ye deal gold for my sake;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the fourth kirk o’ fair Scotland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O there ye’ll bury me at!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_181" id="page_181">{181}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“This is all my asking, father,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I pray ye grant it me!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Your asking is but small,” he said;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Weel granted it shall be.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But why do ye talk o’ suchlike things?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For ye arena going to dee.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The lady’s gane to her chamber,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a moanfu’ woman was she,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As gin she had ta’en a sudden brash,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And were about to dee.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The lady’s gane to her chamber<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As fast as she could fare;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she has drunk a sleepy draught,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She mixed wi’ mickle care.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">She’s fallen into a heavy trance,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And pale and cold was she;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She seemed to be as surely dead<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As any corpse could be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out and spak’ an auld witch-wife,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At the fireside sat she:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Gin she has killed herself for love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I wot it weel may be:<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“But drap the het lead on her cheek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And drap it on her chin.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_182" id="page_182">{182}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And drap it on her bosom white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And she’ll maybe speak again.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">’Tis much that a young lady will do<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To her true love to win.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They drapped the het lead on her cheek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They drapped it on her chin,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They drapped it on her bosom white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But she spake none again.<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 252px;"> -<a href="images/image182.png"> -<img src="images/image182.png" width="252" height="200" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her brothers they went to a room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make to her a bier;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The boards were a’ o’ cedar wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The edges o’ silver clear.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her sisters they went to a room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To make to her a sark;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cloth was a’ o’ the satin fine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the stitching silken-wark.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_183" id="page_183">{183}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Now well is me, my gay gos-hawk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That ye can speak and flee!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come show me any love-tokens<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That ye have brought to me.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“She sends ye her ring frae her finger white,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The garland frae her hair;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She sends ye the heart within her breast;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And what would ye have mair?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And at the fourth kirk o’ fair Scotland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She bids ye wait for her there.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Come hither, all my merry young men!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And drink the good red wine;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For we must on towards fair England<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To free my love frae pine.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The funeral came into fair Scotland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they gart the bells be rung;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when it came to the second kirk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They gart the mass be sung.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And when it came to the third kirk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They dealt gold for her sake;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when it came to the fourth kirk,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Her love was waiting thereat.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">At the fourth kirk in fair Scotland<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stood spearmen in a row;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_184" id="page_184">{184}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And up and started her ain true love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chieftain over them a’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Set down, set down the bier,” he says,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Till I look upon the dead;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The last time that I saw her face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Its color was warm and red.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He stripped the sheet from off her face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A little below the chin;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lady then she opened her eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lookèd full on him.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O give me a shive o’ your bread, love,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O give me a cup o’ your wine!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long have I fasted for your sake,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now I fain would dine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Gae hame, gae hame, my seven brothers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gae hame and blow the horn!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And ye may say that ye sought my skaith,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that I hae gi’en ye the scorn.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I cam’ na here to bonny Scotland<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lie down in the clay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I cam’ here to bonny Scotland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To wear the silks sae gay!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_185" id="page_185">{185}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I cam’ na here to bonny Scotland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Amang the dead to rest;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I cam’ here to bonny Scotland<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the man that I lo’e best!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Author Unknown</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 280px;"> -<a href="images/image185.png"> -<img src="images/image185.png" width="280" height="312" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_186" id="page_186">{186}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="AN_OLD_SONG_OF_FAIRIES" id="AN_OLD_SONG_OF_FAIRIES"></a>AN OLD SONG OF FAIRIES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Come, follow, follow me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You, fairy elves that be:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which circle on the greene,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come, follow Mab your queene.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hand in hand let’s dance around,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For this place is fairye ground.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When mortals are at rest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And snoring in their nest:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unheard, and unespy’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through key-holes we do glide;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Over tables, stools, and shelves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We trip it with our fairy elves.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And, if the house be foul<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With platter, dish, or bowl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up stairs we nimbly creep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And find the sluts asleep:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There we pinch their armes and thighes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">None escapes, nor none espies.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But if the house be swept,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And from uncleanness kept,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We praise the household maid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And duely she is paid:<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_187" id="page_187">{187}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For we use before we goe<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To drop a tester in her shoe.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Upon a mushroomes head<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our table-cloth we spread;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A grain of rye, or wheat,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is manchet, which we eat;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pearly drops of dew we drink<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In acorn cups fill’d to the brink.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The brains of nightingales,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With unctuous fat of snailes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Between two cockles stew’d,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is meat that’s easily chew’d;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tailes of wormes, and marrow of mice,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Do make a dish, that’s wonderous nice.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The grashopper, gnat, and fly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Serve for our minstrelsie;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Grace said, we dance a while,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And so the time beguile:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if the moon doth hide her head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The gloe-worm lights us home to bed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On tops of dewie grasse<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So nimbly do we passe,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_188" id="page_188">{188}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">The young and tender stalk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ne’er bends when we do walk:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet in the morning may be seen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where we the night before have been.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Author Unknown</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 216px;"> -<a href="images/image188.png"> -<img src="images/image188.png" width="216" height="204" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_189" id="page_189">{189}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="MOON_FOLLY" id="MOON_FOLLY"></a>MOON FOLLY<br /><br /> -<small>(<i>The Song of Conn the Fool</i>)</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I will go up the mountain after the Moon:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She is caught in a dead fir-tree.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a great pale apple of silver and pearl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a great pale apple is she.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I will leap and will catch her with quick cold hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And carry her home in my sack.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will set her down safe on the oaken bench<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That stands at the chimney-back.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then I will sit by the fire all night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sit by the fire all day.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I will gnaw at the Moon to my heart’s delight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till I gnaw her slowly away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And while I grow mad with the Moon’s cold taste<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The World will beat at my door,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Crying “Come out!” and crying “Make haste,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And give us the Moon once more!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But I shall not answer them ever at all.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I shall laugh, as I count and hide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The great black beautiful Seeds of the Moon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a flower-pot deep and wide.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_190" id="page_190">{190}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then I shall lie down and go fast asleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Drunken with flame and aswoon.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the seeds will sprout and the seeds will leap,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The subtle swift seeds of the Moon.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And some day, all of the World that cries<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And beats at my door shall see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A thousand moon-leaves spring from my thatch<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On a wonderful white Moon-tree!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then each shall have Moons to his heart’s desire:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Apples of silver and pearl;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Apples of orange and copper fire<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Setting his five wits aswirl!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And then they will thank me, who mock me now,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Wanting the Moon is he,”—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oh, I’m off to the mountain after the Moon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ere she falls from the dead fir-tree!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Fannie Stearns Gifford</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_191" id="page_191">{191}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_014" style="width: 420px;"> -<a href="images/image191.jpg"> -<img src="images/image191.jpg" width="420" height="569" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_192" id="page_192">{192}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_193" id="page_193">{193}</a></span>  </p> - -<h2><a name="STAR-TALK" id="STAR-TALK"></a>STAR-TALK</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Are you awake, Gemelli,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This frosty night?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“We’ll be awake till reveillé,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which is Sunrise,” say the Gemelli,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“It’s no good trying to go to sleep:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If there’s wine to be got we’ll drink it deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But sleep is gone for to-night<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But sleep is gone for to-night.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Are you cold, too, poor Pleiads,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This frosty night?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Yes, and so are the Hyads:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See us cuddle and hug,” say the Pleiads,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“All six in a ring: it keeps us warm:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We huddle together like birds in a storm:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s bitter weather to-night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It’s bitter weather to-night.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“What do you hunt, Orion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This starry night?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“The Ram, the Bull and the Lion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the Great Bear,” says Orion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“With my starry quiver and beautiful belt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am trying to find a good thick pelt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To warm my shoulders to-night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To warm my shoulders to-night.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_194" id="page_194">{194}</a></span>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Did you hear that, Great She-bear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This frosty night?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Yes, he’s talking of stripping me bare<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of my own big fur,” says the She-bear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I’m afraid of the man and his terrible arrow:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The thought of it chills my bones to the marrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the frost so cruel to-night!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the frost so cruel to-night!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“How is your trade, Aquarius,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">This frosty night?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Complaints is many and various<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And my feet are cold,” says Aquarius,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“There’s Venus objects to Dolphin-scales,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Mars to Crab-spawn found in my pails,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the pump has frozen to-night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the pump has frozen to-night.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Robert Graves</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_195" id="page_195">{195}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_015" style="width: 420px;"> -<a href="images/image195.jpg"> -<img src="images/image195.jpg" width="420" height="570" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_196" id="page_196">{196}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_197" id="page_197">{197}</a></span>  </p> - -<h2><a name="JIM_JAY" id="JIM_JAY"></a>JIM JAY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Do diddle di do,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poor Jim Jay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Got stuck fast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In Yesterday.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Squinting he was,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On cross-legs bent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never heeding<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind was spent.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round veered the weathercock,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sun drew in—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And stuck was Jim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a rusty pin....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">We pulled and we pulled<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From seven till twelve,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jim, too frightened<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To help himself.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But all in vain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The clock struck one,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And there was Jim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A little bit gone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At half-past five<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You scarce could see<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A glimpse of his flapping<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Handkerchee.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when came noon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And we climbed sky-high,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_198" id="page_198">{198}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jim was a speck<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Slip-slipping by.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Come tomorrow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The neighbours say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’ll be past crying for;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poor Jim Jay.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Walter de la Mare</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 140px;"> -<a href="images/image198.png"> -<img src="images/image198.png" width="140" height="160" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_199" id="page_199">{199}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_GHOSTS_OF_THE_BUFFALOES" id="THE_GHOSTS_OF_THE_BUFFALOES"></a>THE GHOSTS OF THE BUFFALOES</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The windows were shaking, there was thunder on high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The floor was a-tremble, the door was a-jar,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">White fires, crimson fires, shone from afar.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I rushed to the door yard. The city was gone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My home was a hut without orchard or lawn.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It was mud-smear and logs near a whispering stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nothing else built by man could I see in my dream....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then ...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ghost-kings came headlong, row upon row,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gods of the Indians, torches aglow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They mounted the bear and the elk and the deer,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And eagles gigantic, aged and sere,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They rode long-horn cattle, they cried “A-la-la.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They lifted the knife, the bow, and the spear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They lifted ghost-torches from dead fires below,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The midnight made grand with the cry “A-la-la.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The midnight made grand with a red-god charge,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A red-god show,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A red-god show,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“A-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">With bodies like bronze, and terrible eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came the rank and the file, with catamount cries,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gibbering, yipping, with hollow-skull clacks,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_200" id="page_200">{200}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Riding white bronchos with skeleton backs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Scalp-hunters, beaded and spangled and bad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Naked and lustful and foaming and mad,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Flashing primeval demoniac scorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blood-thirst and pomp amid darkness reborn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Power and glory that sleep in the grass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While the winds and the snows and the great rains pass.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They crossed the gray river, thousands abreast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They rode in infinite lines to the west,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tide upon tide of strange fury and foam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spirits and wraiths, the blue was their home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sky was their goal where the star-flags are furled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on past those far golden splendors they whirled.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They burned to dim meteors, lost in the deep.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I turned in dazed wonder, thinking of sleep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And the wind crept by<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Alone, unkempt, unsatisfied,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind cried and cried—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Muttered of massacres long past,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Buffaloes in shambles vast...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An owl said: “Hark, what is a-wing?”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard a cricket carolling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard a cricket carolling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard a cricket carolling.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then...<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Snuffing the lightning that crashed from on high<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_201" id="page_201">{201}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rose royal old buffaloes, row upon row.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The lords of the prairie came galloping by.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I cried in my heart “A-la-la, a-la-la,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A red-god show,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A red-god show,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la, a-la-la.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Buffaloes, buffaloes, thousands abreast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A scourge and amazement, they swept to the west.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With black bobbing noses, with red rolling tongues,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Coughing forth steam from their leather-wrapped lungs,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cows with their calves, bulls big and vain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Goring the laggards, shaking the mane,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stamping flint feet, flashing moon eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pompous and owlish, shaggy and wise.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like sea-cliffs and caves resounded their ranks<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With shoulders like waves, and undulant flanks.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tide upon tide of strange fury and foam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Spirits and wraiths, the blue was their home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The sky was their goal where the star-flags are furled,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on past those far golden splendors they whirled.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They burned to dim meteors, lost in the deep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I turned in dazed wonder, thinking of sleep.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I heard a cricket’s cymbals play,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A scarecrow lightly flapped his rags,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a pan that hung by his shoulder rang,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rattled and thumped in a listless way,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_202" id="page_202">{202}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now the wind in the chimney sang,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind in the chimney,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind in the chimney,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wind in the chimney,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seemed to say:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Dream, boy, dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If you anywise can.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To dream is the work<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of beast or man.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life is the west-going dream-storm’s breath,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Life is a dream, the sigh of the skies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The breath of the stars, that nod on their pillows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With their golden hair mussed over their eyes.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The locust played on his musical wing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sang to his mate of love’s delight.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard the whippoorwill’s soft fret.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard a cricket carolling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard a cricket carolling,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I heard a cricket say: “Good-night, good-night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Good-night, good-night, ... good-night.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Vachel Lindsay</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_203" id="page_203">{203}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_CHRISTMAS_CAROL" id="A_CHRISTMAS_CAROL"></a>A CHRISTMAS CAROL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">In the bleak mid-winter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Frosty wind made moan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Earth stood hard as iron,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Water like a stone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Snow had fallen, snow on snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Snow on snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the bleak mid-winter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Long ago.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Our God, Heaven cannot hold Him<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor earth sustain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Heaven and earth shall flee away<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When He comes to reign:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the bleak mid-winter<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A stable-place sufficed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Lord God Almighty<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Jesus Christ.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Enough for Him, whom cherubim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Worship night and day,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A breastful of milk<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a mangerful of hay;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Enough for Him, whom angels<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fall down before,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ox and ass and camel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which adore.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_204" id="page_204">{204}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Angels and archangels<br /></span> -<span class="i0">May have gathered there,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cherubim and seraphim<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thronged the air;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But only His mother<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In her maiden bliss<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Worshipped the Beloved<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a kiss.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">What can I give Him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Poor as I am?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I were a shepherd<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would bring a lamb,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">If I were a Wise Man<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I would do my part,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet what I can I give Him,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Give my heart.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Christina Rossetti</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_205" id="page_205">{205}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="ESCAPE_AT_BEDTIME" id="ESCAPE_AT_BEDTIME"></a>ESCAPE AT BEDTIME</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the blinds and the windows and bars;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And high overhead and all moving about,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There were thousands of millions of stars.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There ne’er were such thousands of leaves on a tree<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor of people in church or the Park,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As the crowds of the stars that looked down upon me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that glittered and winked in the dark.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Dog, and the Plough, and the Hunter, and all,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the star of the sailor, and Mars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">These shone in the sky, and the pail by the wall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would be half full of water and stars.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They saw me at last, and they chased me with cries,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And they soon had me packed into bed;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the glory kept shining and bright in my eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the stars going round in my head.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Robert Louis Stevenson</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 72px;"> -<a href="images/image205.png"> -<img src="images/image205.png" width="72" height="53" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_206" id="page_206">{206}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="SONG_OF_THE_CHATTAHOOCHEE" id="SONG_OF_THE_CHATTAHOOCHEE"></a>SONG OF THE CHATTAHOOCHEE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Out of the hills of Habersham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down the valleys of Hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I hurry amain to reach the plain,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Run the rapid and leap the fall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Split at the rock and together again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Accept my bed, or narrow or wide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And flee from folly on every side<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a lover’s pain to attain the plain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far from the hills of Habersham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Far from the valleys of Hall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All down the hills of Habersham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All through the valleys of Hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rushes cried <i>Abide, abide</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wilful waterweeds held me thrall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The laving laurel turned my tide,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ferns and the fondling grass said <i>Stay</i>,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dewberry dipped for to work delay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the little reeds sighed <i>Abide, abide,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Here in the hills of Habersham,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Here in the valleys of Hall.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">High o’er the hills of Habersham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Veiling the valleys of Hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hickory told me manifold<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_207" id="page_207">{207}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fair tales of shade, the poplar tall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wrought me her shadowy self to hold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The chestnut, the oak, the walnut, the pine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Overleaning, with flickering meaning and sign,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Said, <i>Pass not, so cold, these manifold</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Deep shades of the hills of Habersham,</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>These glades in the valleys of Hall.</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And oft in the hills of Habersham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oft in the valleys of Hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The white quartz shone, and the smooth brook-stone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Did bar me of passage with friendly brawl,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And many a luminous jewel lone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—Crystals clear or a-cloud with mist,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ruby, garnet and amethyst—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Made lures with the lights of streaming stone<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the clefts of the hills of Habersham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the beds of the valleys of Hall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">But oh, not the hills of Habersham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And oh, not the valleys of Hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Avail: I am fain for to water the plain.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Downward the voices of Duty call—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Downward, to toil and be mixed with the main.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The dry fields burn, and the mills are to turn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a myriad flowers mortally yearn,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_208" id="page_208">{208}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the lordly main from beyond the plain<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Calls o’er the hills of Habersham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Calls through the valleys of Hall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Sidney Lanier</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 408px;"> -<a href="images/image208.png"> -<img src="images/image208.png" width="408" height="250" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_209" id="page_209">{209}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_210" id="page_210">{210}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_016" style="width: 417px;"> -<a href="images/image210.jpg"> -<img src="images/image210.jpg" width="417" height="566" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_211" id="page_211">{211}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="SEA_FEVER" id="SEA_FEVER"></a>SEA FEVER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all I ask is a tall ship and a star to steer her by;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the wheel’s kick and the wind’s song and the white sail’s shaking,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a gray mist on the sea’s face, and a gray dawn breaking.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I must go down to the seas again, for the call of the running tide<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is a wild call and a clear call that may not be denied;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all I ask is a windy day with the white clouds flying,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the flung spray and the blown spume, and the sea-gulls crying.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">I must go down to the seas again, to the vagrant gipsy life,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To the gull’s way and the whale’s way where the wind’s like a whetted knife;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all I ask is a merry yarn from a laughing fellow-rover,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And quiet sleep and a sweet dream when the long trick’s over.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>John Masefield</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_212" id="page_212">{212}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="O_CAPTAIN_MY_CAPTAIN" id="O_CAPTAIN_MY_CAPTAIN"></a>“O CAPTAIN! MY CAPTAIN!”<br /><br /> -<small>(<i>In Memory of Abraham Lincoln</i>)</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ship has weather’d every rack, the prize we sought is won,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The port is near, the bells I hear, the people all exulting,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While follow eyes the steady keel, the vessel grim and daring;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">But O heart! heart! heart!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">O the bleeding drops of red!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Where on the deck my Captain lies,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Fallen cold and dead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O Captain! my Captain! rise up and hear the bells;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rise up—for you the flag is flung—for you the bugle trills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For you bouquets and ribbon’d wreaths—for you the shores a-crowding,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For you they call, the swaying mass, their eager faces turning;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Here, Captain! dear father!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">This arm beneath your head!<br /></span> -<span class="i8">It is some dream that on the deck<br /></span> -<span class="i10">You’ve fallen cold and dead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My Captain does not answer, his lips are pale and still,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My father does not feel my arm, he has no pulse nor will;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The ship is anchor’d safe and sound, its voyage closed and done,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_213" id="page_213">{213}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">From fearful trip the victor ship comes in with object won;<br /></span> -<span class="i4">Exult, O shores! and ring, O bells!<br /></span> -<span class="i6">But I, with mournful tread,<br /></span> -<span class="i8">Walk the deck my Captain lies,<br /></span> -<span class="i10">Fallen cold and dead.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Walt Whitman</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 250px;"> -<a href="images/image213.png"> -<img src="images/image213.png" width="250" height="264" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_214" id="page_214">{214}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_SNOW" id="THE_SNOW"></a>THE SNOW</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It sifts from leaden sieves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It powders all the wood,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It fills with alabaster wool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The wrinkles of the road.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It makes an even face<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of mountain and of plain,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unbroken forehead from the east<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unto the east again.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It reaches to the fence,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It wraps it, rail by rail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till it is lost in fleeces;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It flings a crystal veil<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">On stump and stack and stem,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The summer’s empty room,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Acres of seams where harvests were,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Recordless, but for them.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">It ruffles wrists of posts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As ankles of a queen,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then stills its artisans like ghosts,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Denying they have been.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Emily Dickinson</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_215" id="page_215">{215}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="A_SONG_FOR_MY_MOTHER_HER_HANDS" id="A_SONG_FOR_MY_MOTHER_HER_HANDS"></a>A SONG FOR MY MOTHER: HER HANDS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">My mother’s hands are cool and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They can do anything.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Delicate mercies hide them there<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like flowers in the spring.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">When I was small and could not sleep,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She used to come to me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with my cheek upon her hand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How sure my rest would be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For everything she ever touched<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of beautiful or fine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their memories living in her hands<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Would warm that sleep of mine.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Her hands remember how they played<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One time in meadow streams,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all the flickering song and shade<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of water took my dreams.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Swift through her haunted fingers pass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Memories of garden things;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I dipped my face in flowers and grass<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sounds of hidden wings.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One time she touched the cloud that kissed<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Brown pastures bleak and far;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_216" id="page_216">{216}</a></span>—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I leaned my cheek into a mist<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And thought I was a star.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">All this was very long ago<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I am grown; but yet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The hand that lured my slumber so<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never can forget.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">For still when drowsiness comes on<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It seems so soft and cool,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shaped happily beneath my cheek,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hollow and beautiful.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Anna Hempstead Branch</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 263px;"> -<a href="images/image216.png"> -<img src="images/image216.png" width="263" height="264" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_217" id="page_217">{217}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_FOUNTAIN" id="THE_FOUNTAIN"></a>THE FOUNTAIN</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Into the sunshine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Full of the light,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Leaping and flashing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From morn till night!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Into the moonlight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Whiter than snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waving so flower-like<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When the winds blow!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Into the starlight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rushing in spray,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Happy at midnight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Happy by day!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ever in motion,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Blithesome and cheery.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still climbing heavenward,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never aweary;—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Glad of all weathers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still seeming best,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upward or downward,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Motion thy rest;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_218" id="page_218">{218}</a></span>—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Full of a nature<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nothing can tame,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Changed every moment,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ever the same;—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Ceaseless aspiring,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ceaseless content,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Darkness or sunshine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy element;—<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Glorious fountain!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let my heart be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fresh, changeful, constant,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Upward, like thee!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>James Russell Lowell</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_219" id="page_219">{219}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_017" style="width: 416px;"> -<a href="images/image219.png"> -<img src="images/image219.png" width="416" height="423" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_220" id="page_220">{220}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_221" id="page_221">{221}</a></span>  </p> - -<h2><a name="NATURES_FRIEND" id="NATURES_FRIEND"></a>NATURE’S FRIEND</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Say what you like,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All things love me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I pick no flowers—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That wins the Bee.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Summer’s Moths<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Think my hand one—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To touch their wings—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With Wind and Sun.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The garden Mouse<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Comes near to play;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Indeed, he turns<br /></span> -<span class="i0">His eyes away.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Wren knows well<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I rob no nest:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When I look in,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She still will rest.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The hedge stops Cows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or they would come<br /></span> -<span class="i0">After my voice<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Right to my home.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_222" id="page_222">{222}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The Horse can tell,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Straight from my lip,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My hand could not<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hold any whip.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Say what you like,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All things love me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Horse, Cow, and Mouse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bird, Moth and Bee.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>William H. Davies</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 176px;"> -<a href="images/image222.png"> -<img src="images/image222.png" width="176" height="98" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_223" id="page_223">{223}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="TREE-TOAD" id="TREE-TOAD"></a>TREE-TOAD</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Tree-toad is a small gray person<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a silver voice.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tree-toad is a leaf-gray shadow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That sings.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tree-toad is never seen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Unless a star squeezes through the leaves,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or a moth looks sharply at a gray branch.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How would it be, I wonder,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To sing patiently all night,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never thinking that people are asleep?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Raindrops and mist, starriness over the trees,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The moon, the dew, the other little singers,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cricket ... toad ... leaf rustling....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They would listen:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">It would be music like weather<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That gets into all the corners<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of out-of-doors.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Every night I see little shadows<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never saw before.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Every night I hear little voices<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never heard before.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When night comes trailing her starry cloak,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I start out for slumberland,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With tree-toads calling along the roadside.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_224" id="page_224">{224}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Good-night</i>, I say to one, <i>Good-by</i>, I say to another,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>I hope to find you on the way</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>We have traveled before!</i><br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>I hope to hear you singing on the Road of Dreams!</i><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<div class="rt"><i>Hilda Conkling</i><br /> -(Six years old)<br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 89px;"> -<a href="images/image224.png"> -<img src="images/image224.png" width="89" height="99" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_225" id="page_225">{225}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="AN_ANCIENT_CHRISTMAS_CAROL" id="AN_ANCIENT_CHRISTMAS_CAROL"></a>AN ANCIENT CHRISTMAS CAROL</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He came all so still<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where His mother was,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As dew in April<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That falleth on the grass.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He came all so still<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where His mother lay,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As dew in April<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That falleth on the spray.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He came all so still<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To His mother’s bower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As dew in April<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That falleth on the flower.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Mother and maiden<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was never none but she!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Well might such a lady<br /></span> -<span class="i0">God’s mother be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Author Unknown</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_226" id="page_226">{226}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="AN_OLD_CHRISTMAS_CAROL" id="AN_OLD_CHRISTMAS_CAROL"></a> -<a href="images/image226.png"> -<img src="images/image226.png" width="183" height="261" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -<br /><br /> -<small>AN OLD CHRISTMAS CAROL</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As Joseph was a-waukin’,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He heard an angel sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“This night shall be the birthnight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of Christ our heavenly King.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“His birth-bed shall be neither<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In housen nor in hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor in the place of paradise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in the oxen’s stall.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“He neither shall be rockèd<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In silver nor in gold,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_227" id="page_227">{227}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in the wooden manger<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That lieth in the mould.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“He neither shall be washen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With white wine nor with red,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But with the fair spring water<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That on you shall be shed.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“He neither shall be clothèd<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In purple nor in pall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in the fair, white linen<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That usen babies all.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">As Joseph was a-waukin’,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus did the angel sing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Mary’s son at midnight<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was born to be our King.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then be you glad, good people,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">At this time of the year;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And light you up your candles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For His star it shineth clear.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Author Unknown</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_228" id="page_228">{228}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="KING_JOHN_AND_THE_ABBOT_OF_CANTERBURY" id="KING_JOHN_AND_THE_ABBOT_OF_CANTERBURY"></a>KING JOHN AND THE ABBOT OF CANTERBURY</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An ancient story I’ll tell you anon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of a notable prince that was called King John;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he rulèd England with main and with might,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For he did great wrong, and maintained little right.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And I’ll tell you a story, a story so merry,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Concerning the Abbot of Canterbury;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How for his house-keeping and high renown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They rode post for him to fair London town.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">An hundred men the king did hear say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The abbot kept in his house every day;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And fifty gold chains without any doubt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In velvet coats waited the abbot about.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“How now, father abbot, I hear it of thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou keepest a far better house than me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And for thy house-keeping and high renown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I fear thou work’st treason against my own crown.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“My liege,” quo’ the abbot, “I would it were known<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I never spend nothing, but what is my own;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I trust your grace will do me no deere,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For spending of my own true-gotten gear.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Yes, yes, father abbot, thy fault it is high,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now for the same thou needest must die;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For except thou canst answer me questions three,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy head shall be smitten from thy bodie.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_229" id="page_229">{229}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And first,” quo’ the king, “when I’m in this stead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With my crown of gold so fair on my head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among all my liege-men so noble of birth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou must tell me to one penny what I am worth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Secondly, tell me, without any doubt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How soon I may ride the whole world about;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And at the third question, thou must not shrink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But tell me here truly what I do think.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O these are hard questions for my shallow wit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor I cannot answer your grace as yet:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But if you will give me but three weeks’ space,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I’ll do my endeavor to answer your grace.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Now three weeks’ space to thee will I give,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And that is the longest time thou hast to live;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For if thou dost not answer my questions three,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy lands and thy livings are forfeit to me.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 150px;"> -<a href="images/image229.png"> -<img src="images/image229.png" width="150" height="159" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_230" id="page_230">{230}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Away rode the abbot all sad at that word,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he rode to Cambridge, and Oxenford;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But never a doctor there was so wise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That could with his learning an answer devise.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then home rode the abbot of comfort so cold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And he met his shepherd a-going to fold:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“How now, my lord abbot, you are welcome home;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What news do you bring us from good King John?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Sad news, sad news, shepherd, I must give,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That I have but three days more to live;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For if I do not answer him questions three,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My head will be smitten from my bodie.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The first is to tell him there in that stead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With his crown of gold so fair on his head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among all his liege-men so noble of birth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To within one penny of what he is worth.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“The second, to tell him without any doubt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How soon he may ride this whole world about;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And at the third question I must not shrink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But tell him there truly what he does think.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Now cheer up, sire abbot, did you never hear yet<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That a fool he may learn a wise man wit?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lend me horse, and serving-men, and your apparel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And I’ll ride to London to answer your quarrel.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_231" id="page_231">{231}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Nay, frown not, if it hath been told unto me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I am like your lordship, as ever may be;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And if you will but lend me your gown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There is none shall know us at fair London town.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Now horses and serving-men thou shalt have,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With sumptuous array most gallant and brave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With crozier and mitre, and rochet, and cope,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fit to appear ’fore our Father the Pope.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Now welcome, sire abbot,” the king he did say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“<span class="lftspc">’</span>Tis well thou’rt come back to keep thy day:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For and if thou canst answer my questions three,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thy life and thy living both savèd shall be.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And first, when thou seest me here in this stead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With my crown of gold so fair on my head,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among all my liege-men so noble of birth,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tell me to one penny what I am worth.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“For thirty pence our Saviour was sold<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among the false Jews, as I have been told,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And twenty-nine is the worth of thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For I think thou art one penny worser than he.”<br /></span> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 324px;"> -<a href="images/image231.png"> -<img src="images/image231.png" width="324" height="66" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_232" id="page_232">{232}</a></span></p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The king he laughed, and swore by St. Bittel,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I did not think I had been worth so little!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—Now secondly tell me, without any doubt,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">How soon I may ride this whole world about.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“You must rise with the sun, and ride with the same<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until the next morning he riseth again;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And then your grace need not make any doubt<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But in twenty-four hours you’ll ride it about.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The king he laughed, and swore by St. Jone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I did not think it could be done so soon!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">—Now from the third question thou must not shrink,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But tell me here truly what I do think.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Yea, that shall I do, and make your grace merry;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You think I’m the Abbot of Canterbury;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But I’m his poor shepherd, as plain you may see,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That am come to beg pardon for him and for me.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The king he laughed and swore by the Mass,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I’ll make thee lord abbot this day in this place!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Now nay, my liege, be not in such speed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For alack I can neither write nor read.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_233" id="page_233">{233}</a></span>”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Four nobles a week, then, I will give thee,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For this merry jest thou hast shown unto me;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And tell the old abbot when thou comest home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou hast brought him a pardon from good King John.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Author Unknown</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 148px;"> -<a href="images/image233.png"> -<img src="images/image233.png" width="148" height="114" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_234" id="page_234">{234}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_SANDS_OF_DEE" id="THE_SANDS_OF_DEE"></a>THE SANDS OF DEE</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“O Mary, go and call the cattle home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And call the cattle home,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And call the cattle home<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the sands of Dee!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The western wind was wild and dank with foam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And all alone went she.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The western tide crept up along the sand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And o’er and o’er the sand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round and round the sand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As far as eye could see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The rolling mist came down and hid the land:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And never home came she.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Oh! is it weed, or fish, or floating hair—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A tress of golden hair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A drownèd maiden’s hair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Above the nets at sea?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was never salmon yet that shone so fair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among the stakes on Dee.”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">They rowed her in across the rolling foam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cruel crawling foam,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The cruel hungry foam,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_235" id="page_235">{235}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">To her grave beside the sea:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But still the boatmen hear her call the cattle home<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Across the sands of Dee!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Charles Kingsley</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 275px;"> -<a href="images/image235.png"> -<img src="images/image235.png" width="275" height="267" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_236" id="page_236">{236}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="SISTER_AWAKE" id="SISTER_AWAKE"></a>SISTER, AWAKE!<br /><br /> -<small>(<i>Old English Song</i>)</small></h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Sister, awake! close not your eyes!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The day her light discloses,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bright morning doth arise<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out of her bed of roses.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">See the clear sun, the world’s bright eye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In at our window peeping:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Lo, how he blusheth to espy<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Us idle wenches sleeping!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Therefore awake! make haste, I say,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And let us, without staying,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All in our gowns of green so gay<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the Park a-maying!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Author Unknown</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 341px;"> -<a href="images/image236.png"> -<img src="images/image236.png" width="341" height="110" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_237" id="page_237">{237}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="THE_SKELETON_IN_ARMOR" id="THE_SKELETON_IN_ARMOR"></a>THE SKELETON IN ARMOR</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Speak! speak! thou fearful guest!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Who, with thy hollow breast<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still in rude armor dressed,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Comest to daunt me!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wrapped not in Eastern balms,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But with thy fleshless palms<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stretched, as if asking alms,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Why dost thou haunt me?”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Then, from those cavernous eyes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pale flashes seemed to rise,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As when the Northern skies<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Gleam in December;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, like the water’s flow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under December’s snow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came a dull voice of woe<br /></span> -<span class="i2">From the heart’s chamber.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I was a Viking old!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">My deeds, though manifold,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">No Skald in song has told,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">No Saga taught thee!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Take heed, that in thy verse<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thou dost the tale rehearse,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Else dread a dead man’s curse<br /></span> -<span class="i2">For this I sought thee.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_238" id="page_238">{238}</a></span><br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Far in the Northern Land,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By the wild Baltic’s strand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I with my childish hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Tamed the gerfalcon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And, with my skates fast-bound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Skimmed the half-frozen Sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That the poor whimpering hound<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Trembled to walk on.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Oft to his frozen lair<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tracked I the grisly bear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While from my path the hare<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fled like a shadow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Oft through the forest dark<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Followed the were-wolf’s bark,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Until the soaring lark<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Sang from the meadow.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“But when I older grew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Joining a corsair’s crew,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">O’er the dark sea I flew<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With the marauders.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wild was the life we led;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Many the souls that sped,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Many the hearts that bled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By our stern orders.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Many a wassail-bout<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wore the long Winter out;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_239" id="page_239">{239}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Often our midnight shout<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Set the cocks crowing,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As we the Berserk’s tale<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Measured in cups of ale,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Draining the oaken pail,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Filled to o’erflowing.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Once as I told in glee<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tales of the stormy sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Soft eyes did gaze on me,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Burning yet tender;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as the white stars shine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the dark Norway pine,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On that dark heart of mine<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Fell their soft splendor.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“I wooed the blue-eyed maid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yielding, yet half afraid,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in the forest’s shade<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Our vows were plighted.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under its loosened vest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fluttered her little breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like birds within their nest<br /></span> -<span class="i2">By the hawk frighted.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Bright in her father’s hall<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Shields gleamed upon the wall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loud sang the minstrels all,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Chanting his glory;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_240" id="page_240">{240}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">When of old Hildebrand<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I asked his daughter’s hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mute did the minstrels stand<br /></span> -<span class="i2">To hear my story.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“While the brown ale he quaffed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Loud then the champion laughed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And as the wind-gusts waft<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sea-foam brightly,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So the loud laugh of scorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out of those lips unshorn,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">From the deep drinking-horn<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Blew the foam lightly.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“She was a Prince’s child,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I but a Viking wild,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And though she blushed and smiled,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">I was discarded!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Should not the dove so white<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Follow the sea-mew’s flight,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why did they leave that night<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Her nest unguarded?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Scarce had I put to sea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bearing the maid with me,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fairest of all was she<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Among the Norsemen!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_241" id="page_241">{241}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">When on the white sea-strand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Waving his armèd hand,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Saw we old Hildebrand,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With twenty horsemen.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Then launched they to the blast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bent like a reed each mast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Yet we were gaining fast,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">When the wind failed us;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And with a sudden flaw<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came round the gusty Skaw,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So that our foe we saw<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Laugh as he hailed us.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“And as to catch the gale<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Round veered the flapping sail,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Death!’ was the helmsman’s hail,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">‘Death without quarter!’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Mid-ships with iron keel<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Struck we her ribs of steel;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down her black hulk did reel<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Through the black water!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“As with his wings aslant,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sails the fierce cormorant,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seeking some rocky haunt,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">With his prey laden,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_242" id="page_242">{242}</a></span>—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So toward the open main,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beating to sea again,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through the wild hurricane,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Bore I the maiden.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Three weeks we westward bore,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And when the storm was o’er,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Cloud-like we saw the shore<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Stretching to leeward;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There for my lady’s bower<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Built I the lofty tower,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Which, to this very hour,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Stands looking seaward.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“There lived we many years;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Time dried the maiden’s tears;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She had forgot her fears,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">She was a mother;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Death closed her mild blue eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under that tower she lies;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Ne’er shall the sun arise<br /></span> -<span class="i2">On such another!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Still grew my bosom then,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Still as a stagnant fen!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hateful to me were men,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">The sunlight hateful!<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_243" id="page_243">{243}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the vast forest here,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Clad in my warlike gear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fell I upon my spear,<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Oh, death was grateful!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">“Thus, seamed with many scars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bursting these prison bars,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up to its native stars<br /></span> -<span class="i2">My soul ascended!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There from the flowing bowl<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Deep drinks the warrior’s soul,<br /></span> -<span class="i0"><i>Skoal!</i> to the Northland! <i>skoal!</i>”<br /></span> -<span class="i2">Thus the tale ended.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Henry Wadsworth Longfellow</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 146px;"> -<a href="images/image243.png"> -<img src="images/image243.png" width="146" height="75" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_244" id="page_244">{244}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="BY_BENDEMEERS_STREAM" id="BY_BENDEMEERS_STREAM"></a>BY BENDEMEER’S STREAM</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the nightingale sings round it all the day long;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the time of my childhood ’twas like a sweet dream,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To sit in the roses and hear the bird’s song.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">That bower and its music I never forget,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But oft when alone, in the bloom of the year,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">I think—is the nightingale singing there yet?<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Are the roses still bright by the calm Bendemeer?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">No, the roses soon wither’d that hung o’er the wave,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But some blossoms were gather’d while freshly they shone,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a dew was distill’d from their flowers, that gave<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All the fragrance of summer, when summer was gone.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Thus memory draws from delight, ere it dies,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An essence that breathes of it many a year;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Thus bright to my soul, as ’twas then to my eyes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is that bower on the banks of the calm Bendemeer!<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Thomas Moore</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 174px;"> -<a href="images/image244.png"> -<img src="images/image244.png" width="174" height="84" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_245" id="page_245">{245}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="A_PRAYER" id="A_PRAYER"></a>A PRAYER</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Teach me, Father, how to go<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Softly as the grasses grow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hush my soul to meet the shock<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the wild world as a rock;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But my spirit, propt with power,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Make as simple as a flower.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let the dry heart fill its cup,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a poppy looking up;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let life lightly wear her crown,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like a poppy looking down.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Teach me, Father, how to be<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Kind and patient as a tree.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Joyfully the crickets croon<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Under shady oak at noon;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Beetle, on his mission bent,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tarries in that cooling tent.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Let me, also, cheer a spot,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Hidden field or garden grot—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Place where passing souls can rest<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the way and be their best.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Edwin Markham</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_246" id="page_246">{246}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<h2><a name="YOUNG_LOCHINVAR" id="YOUNG_LOCHINVAR"></a>YOUNG LOCHINVAR</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And save his good broadsword, he weapons had none;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He rode all unarm’d, and he rode all alone.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So faithful in love, and so dauntless in war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">There never was knight like the young Lochinvar.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He stay’d not for brake and he stopp’d not for stone;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He swam the Eske river where ford there was none;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But ere he alighted at Netherby gate,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The bride had consented, the gallant came late;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For a laggard in love, and a dastard in war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Was to wed the fair Ellen of brave Lochinvar.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So boldly he enter’d the Netherby Hall,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Among bridesmen, and kinsmen, and brothers, and all;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then spoke the bride’s father, his hand on his sword<br /></span> -<span class="i0">(For the poor craven bridegroom said never a word),<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘O, come ye in peace here, or come ye in war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Or to dance at our bridal, young Lord Lochinvar?’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">‘I long woo’d your daughter, my suit you denied;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Love swells like the Solway, but ebbs like its tide;—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And now I am come with this lost Love of mine<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To lead but one measure, drink one cup of wine.<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_247" id="page_247">{247}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">There are maidens in Scotland more lovely by far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That would gladly be bride to the young Lochinvar!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">The bride kiss’d the goblet: the knight took it up,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He quaff’d off the wine and he threw down the cup.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">She look’d down to blush, and she look’d up to sigh,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With a smile on her lips, and a tear in her eye.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He took her soft hand, ere her mother could bar,—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘Now tread we a measure!’ said young Lochinvar.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">So stately his form and so lovely her face,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">That never a hall such a galliard did grace;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">While her mother did fret, and her father did fume,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bridegroom stood dangling his bonnet and plume;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And the bride-maidens whispered, ‘<span class="lftspc">’</span>Twere better by far,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To have match’d our fair cousin with young Lochinvar!’<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">One touch to her hand, and one word in her ear,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">When they reach’d the hall door, and the charger stood near;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So light to the croupe the fair lady he swung,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So light to the saddle before her he sprung!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">‘She is won! we are gone, over bank, bush, and scaur;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’ll have fleet steeds that follow,’ quoth young Lochinvar.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">There was mounting ’mong Graemes of the Netherby clan,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Forsters, Fenwicks, and Musgraves, they rode and they ran,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_248" id="page_248">{248}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">There was racing and chasing, on Cannobie lea,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But the lost bride of Netherby ne’er did they see.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So daring in love, and so dauntless in war,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Have ye e’er heard of gallant like young Lochinvar?<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Sir Walter Scott</i><br /></div> -</div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 271px;"> -<a href="images/image248.png"> -<img src="images/image248.png" width="271" height="315" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_249" id="page_249">{249}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="OFF_THE_GROUND" id="OFF_THE_GROUND"></a>OFF THE GROUND</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Three jolly Farmers<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Once bet a pound<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Each dance the others would<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Off the ground.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out of their coats<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They slipped right soon,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And neat and nicesome<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Put each his shoon.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">One—Two—Three!—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And away they go,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Not too fast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And not too slow;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Out from the elm-tree’s<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Noonday shadow,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Into the sun<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And across the meadow.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Past the schoolroom,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">With knees well bent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Fingers a-flicking,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They dancing went.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up sides and over,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And round and round,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They crossed click-clacking,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The Parish bound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">By Tupman’s meadow<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They did their mile,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_250" id="page_250">{250}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Tee-to-tum<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On a three-barred stile.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then straight through Whipham,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Downhill to Week,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Footing it lightsome,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But not too quick,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up fields to Watchet,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And on through Wye,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till seven fine churches<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They’d seen skip by—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Seven fine churches,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And five old mills,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Farms in the valley,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And sheep on the hills;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Old Man’s Acre<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Dead Man’s Pool<br /></span> -<span class="i0">All left behind,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">As they danced through Wool.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And Wool gone by,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like tops that seem<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To spin in sleep<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They danced in dream:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Withy—Wellover—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Wassop—Wo—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Like an old clock<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their heels did go.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">A league and a league<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a league they went,<br /></span> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_251" id="page_251">{251}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" id="ill_018" style="width: 414px;"> -<a href="images/image251.jpg"> -<img src="images/image251.jpg" width="414" height="567" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_252" id="page_252">{252}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_253" id="page_253">{253}</a></span>  </p> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">And not one weary,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And not one spent.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And lo, and behold!<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Past Willow-cum-Leigh<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stretched with its waters<br /></span> -<span class="i0">The great green sea.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Says Farmer Bates,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“I puffs and I blows,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">What’s under the water,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Why, no man knows!”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Says Farmer Giles,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“My wind comes weak,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And a good man drownded<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Is far to seek.”<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But Farmer Turvey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On twirling toes<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Up’s with his gaiters,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And in he goes:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down where the mermaids<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Pluck and play<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On their twangling harps<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In a sea-green day;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Down where the mermaids,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Finned and fair,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sleek with their combs<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Their yellow hair....<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Bates and Giles—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On the shingle sat,<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_254" id="page_254">{254}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">Gazing at Turvey’s<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Floating hat.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But never a ripple<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nor bubble told<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where he was supping<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Off plates of gold.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Never an echo<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Rilled through the sea<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Of the feasting and dancing<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And minstrelsy.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They called—called—called:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Came no reply:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Nought but the ripples’<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Sandy sigh.<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Then glum and silent<br /></span> -<span class="i0">They sat instead,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Vacantly brooding<br /></span> -<span class="i0">On home and bed,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till both together<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stood up and said:—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">“Us knows not, dreams not,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Where you be,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turvey, unless<br /></span> -<span class="i0">In the deep blue sea;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">But excusing silver—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">And it comes most willing—<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Here’s us two paying<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Our forty shilling;<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_255" id="page_255">{255}</a></span><br /></span> -<span class="i0">For it’s sartin sure, Turvey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Safe and sound,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">You danced us square, Turvey,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Off the ground!”<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>Walter de la Mare</i><br /></div> -<a href="images/image255.png"> -<img src="images/image255.png" width="150" height="139" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div></div> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_256" id="page_256">{256}</a></span></p> - -<h2><a name="AULD_DADDY_DARKNESS" id="AULD_DADDY_DARKNESS"></a>AULD DADDY DARKNESS</h2> - -<div class="poetry"> -<div class="poem"><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Auld Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Black as a blackamoor, blin’ as a mole:<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Stir the fire till it lowes, let the bairnie sit,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Auld Daddy Darkness is no wantit yit.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">See him in the corners hidin’ frae the licht,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">See him at the window gloomin’ at the nicht;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Turn up the gas licht, close the shutters a’,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">An’ Auld Daddy Darkness will flee far awa’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Awa’ to hide the birdie within its cosy nest,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Awa’ to lap the wee flooers on their mither’s breast,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Awa’ to loosen Gaffer Toil frae his daily ca’,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">For Auld Daddy Darkness is kindly to a’.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">He comes when we’re weary to wean’s frae oor waes,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He comes when the bairnies are getting aff their claes;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">To cover them sae cosy, an’ bring bonnie dreams,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">So Auld Daddy Darkness is better than he seems.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> -<span class="i0">Steek yer een, my wee tot, ye’ll see Daddy then;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">He’s in below the bed claes, to cuddle ye he’s fain;<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Noo nestle to his bosie, sleep and dream yer fill,<br /></span> -<span class="i0">Till Wee Davie Daylight comes keekin’ owre the hill.<br /></span> -</div><div class="stanza"> - -<div class="rt"><i>James Ferguson</i><br /></div> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_257" id="page_257">{257}</a></span></div></div> -</div> - -<div class="figcenter" style="width: 308px;"> -<a href="images/image257.png"> -<img src="images/image257.png" width="308" height="424" alt="[Image unavailable.]" /></a> -</div> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_259" id="page_259">{259}</a></span>  </p> - -<p><span class="pagenum"><a name="page_260" id="page_260">{260}</a></span>  </p> - -<h2><a name="INDEX_OF_AUTHORS" id="INDEX_OF_AUTHORS"></a>INDEX OF AUTHORS</h2> - -<p><span class="smcap">Allingham, William</span> (1824-1889)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Fairies, <a href="#page_162">162</a></i><br /> -<i>The Lepracaun, <a href="#page_40">40</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Arnold, Matthew</span> (1822-1888)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Forsaken Merman, <a href="#page_152">152</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Blake, William</span> (1757-1827)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Nurse’s Song, <a href="#page_158">158</a></i><br /> -<i>The Tiger, <a href="#page_98">98</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Branch, Anna Hempstead</span> (18-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>A Song for My Mother, <a href="#page_215">215</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Browning, Robert</span> (1812-1889)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Pied Piper of Hamelin, <a href="#page_109">109</a></i><br /> -<i>Song (“The Year’s at the Spring”), <a href="#page_36">36</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Bunyan, John</span> (1628-1688)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Pilgrim, <a href="#page_76">76</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Burns, Robert</span> (1759-1796)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Bannockburn, <a href="#page_138">138</a></i><br /> -<i>To a Mouse, <a href="#page_159">159</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Byron, Lord</span> (1788-1824)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Destruction of Sennacherib, <a href="#page_92">92</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Coleridge, Samuel Taylor</span> (1772-1834)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Kubla Khan, <a href="#page_19">19</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Colum, Padraic</span> (1881-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Terrible Robber Men, <a href="#page_100">100</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Conkling, Hilda</span> (1910-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Tree-Toad, <a href="#page_223">223</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cowper, William</span> (1731-1800)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Epitaph on a Hare, <a href="#page_73">73</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Cunningham, Allan</span> (1784-1842)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>A Sea Song, <a href="#page_72">72</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Davies, William H.</span> (1870-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Nature’s Friend, <a href="#page_221">221</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">de la Mare, Walter</span> (1873-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Berries, <a href="#page_24">24</a></i><br /> -<i>Jim Jay, <a href="#page_197">197</a></i><br /> -<i>Off the Ground, <a href="#page_249">249</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dickinson, Emily</span> (1830-1886)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Snow, <a href="#page_214">214</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Dobell, Sydney</span> (1824-1874)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>A Chanted Calendar, <a href="#page_143">143</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Emerson, Ralph Waldo</span> (1803-1882)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Fable, <a href="#page_140">140</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Ferguson, James</span> (?)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Auld Daddy Darkness, <a href="#page_256">256</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Frost, Robert</span> (1875-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Good Hours, <a href="#page_141">141</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Gifford, Fannie Stearns</span> (1884-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Moon Folly, <a href="#page_189">189</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Graves, Robert</span> (1895-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Star-Talk, <a href="#page_193">193</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Herrick, Robert</span> (1591-1674)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>To Violets, <a href="#page_38">38</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Hodgson, Ralph</span> (about 1879-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>“Time, you Old Gipsy Man,” <a href="#page_124">124</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Howe, Julia Ward</span> (1819-1910)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Battle Hymn of the Republic, <a href="#page_133">133</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Hunt, Leigh</span> (1784-1859)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Jaffár, <a href="#page_87">87</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Jonson, Ben</span> (1574-1637)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Hymn to Diana, <a href="#page_59">59</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Keats, John</span> (1795-1821)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>La Belle Dame Sans Merci, <a href="#page_168">168</a></i><br /> -<i>Meg Merrilies, <a href="#page_22">22</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Kingsley, Charles</span> (1819-1875)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Sands of Dee, <a href="#page_234">234</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Lanier, Sidney</span> (1842-1881)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Song of the Chattahoochee, <a href="#page_206">206</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Lindsay, Vachel</span> (1879-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Ghosts of the Buffaloes, <a href="#page_199">199</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Longfellow, Henry Wadsworth</span> (1807-1882)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>My Lost Youth, <a href="#page_130">130</a></i><br /> -<i>The Skeleton in Armor, <a href="#page_237">237</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Lowell, James Russell</span> (1819-1891)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Fountain, <a href="#page_217">217</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Macaulay, Thomas Babington</span> (1800-1859)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Ivry, <a href="#page_94">94</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Markham, Edwin</span> (1852-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>A Prayer, <a href="#page_245">245</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Marlowe, Christopher</span> (1562-1593)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Shepherd to His Love, <a href="#page_62">62</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Masefield, John</span> (1874-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Sea Fever, <a href="#page_211">211</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Milton, John</span> (1608-1674)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>On May Morning, <a href="#page_39">39</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Moore, Thomas</span> (1780-1852)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>By Bendemeer’s Stream, <a href="#page_244">244</a></i><br /> -<i>The Minstrel-Boy, <a href="#page_137">137</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Nashe, Thomas</span> (1567-1601?)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Spring, <a href="#page_175">175</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Noyes, Alfred</span> (1880-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>A Song of Sherwood, <a href="#page_89">89</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Poe, Edgar Allan</span> (1809-1849)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Israfel, <a href="#page_82">82</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Rossetti, Christina</span> (1830-1894)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>A Christmas Carol, <a href="#page_203">203</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Scott, Sir Walter</span> (1771-1832)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Gathering Song of Donald Dhu, <a href="#page_135">135</a></i><br /> -<i>Hunting Song, <a href="#page_44">44</a></i><br /> -<i>Young Lochinvar, <a href="#page_246">246</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shakespeare, William</span> (1564-1616)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>“Blow, Blow, Thou Winter Wind,” <a href="#page_108">108</a></i><br /> -<i>Lullaby for Titania, <a href="#page_78">78</a></i><br /> -<i>“Under the Greenwood Tree” <a href="#page_37">37</a></i><br /> -<i>Winter, <a href="#page_142">142</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Shelley, Percy Bysshe</span> (1792-1822)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Hymn of Pan, <a href="#page_29">29</a></i><br /> -<i>The Cloud, <a href="#page_145">145</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Stevenson, Robert Louis</span> (1850-1894)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Escape at Bedtime, <a href="#page_205">205</a></i><br /> -<i>Romance, <a href="#page_28">28</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Swinburne, Algernon Charles</span> (1837-1909)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>“When the Hounds of Spring,” <a href="#page_32">32</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Tennyson, Alfred</span> (1809-1892)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>Bugle Song, <a href="#page_151">151</a></i><br /> -<i>The Lady of Shalott, <a href="#page_46">46</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Unknown</span></p> - -<p class="indd"><i>An Ancient Christmas Carol, <a href="#page_225">225</a></i><br /> -<i>An Old Christmas Carol, <a href="#page_226">226</a></i><br /> -<i>An Old Song of Fairies, <a href="#page_186">186</a></i><br /> -<i>King John and the Abbot of Canterbury, <a href="#page_228">228</a></i><br /> -<i>Robin Hood and the Butcher, <a href="#page_64">64</a></i><br /> -<i>Sir Patrick Spens, <a href="#page_101">101</a></i><br /> -<i>Sister, Awake! <a href="#page_236">236</a></i><br /> -<i>The Gay Gos-Hawk, <a href="#page_178">178</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Whitman, Walt</span> (1819-1892)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>O Captain! My Captain! <a href="#page_212">212</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Wordsworth, William</span> (1770-1850)</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>“I Wandered Lonely,” <a href="#page_176">176</a></i><br /> -<i>The Solitary Reaper, <a href="#page_128">128</a></i><br /> -<i>Written in March, <a href="#page_31">31</a></i></p> - -<p><span class="smcap">Yeats, William Butler</span> (1865-  )</p> - -<p class="indd"><i>The Song of Wandering Aengus, <a href="#page_60">60</a></i></p> - -<h2><a name="INDEX_OF_FIRST_LINES" id="INDEX_OF_FIRST_LINES"></a>INDEX OF FIRST LINES</h2> - -<p class="nind"> -A wet sheet and a flowing sea, <a href="#page_72">72</a><br /> -An ancient story I’ll tell you anon, <a href="#page_228">228</a><br /> -“Are you awake, Gemelli, <a href="#page_193">193</a><br /> -As Joseph was a-waukin’, <a href="#page_226">226</a><br /> -Auld Daddy Darkness creeps frae his hole, <a href="#page_256">256</a><br /> -<br /> -Behold her, single in the field, <a href="#page_128">128</a><br /> -Blow, blow, thou winter wind, <a href="#page_108">108</a><br /> -<br /> -Come, all you brave gallants, and listen a while, <a href="#page_64">64</a><br /> -Come, dear children, let us away, <a href="#page_152">152</a><br /> -Come, follow, follow me, <a href="#page_186">186</a><br /> -Come live with me and be my love, <a href="#page_62">62</a><br /> -<br /> -Do diddle di do, <a href="#page_197">197</a><br /> -<br /> -First came the primrose, <a href="#page_143">143</a><br /> -From the forests and highlands, <a href="#page_29">29</a><br /> -<br /> -Hamelin Town’s in Brunswick, <a href="#page_109">109</a><br /> -He came all so still, <a href="#page_225">225</a><br /> -Here lies, whom hound did ne’er pursue, <a href="#page_73">73</a><br /> -<br /> -I bring fresh showers for the thirsting flowers, <a href="#page_145">145</a><br /> -I had for my winter evening walk, <a href="#page_141">141</a><br /> -I must go down to the seas again, to the lonely sea and the sky, <a href="#page_211">211</a><br /> -I wandered lonely as a cloud, <a href="#page_176">176</a><br /> -I went out to the hazel wood, <a href="#page_60">60</a><br /> -I will go up the mountain after the Moon, <a href="#page_189">189</a><br /> -I will make you brooches and toys for your delight, <a href="#page_28">28</a><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_266" id="page_266">{266}</a><br /></span>In Heaven a spirit doth dwell, <a href="#page_82">82</a><br /> -In the bleak mid-winter, <a href="#page_203">203</a><br /> -In Xanadu did Kubla Khan, <a href="#page_19">19</a><br /> -Into the sunshine, <a href="#page_217">217</a><br /> -It sifts from leaden sieves, <a href="#page_214">214</a><br /> -<br /> -Jaffár, the Barmecide, the good Vizier, <a href="#page_87">87</a><br /> -<br /> -Last night at black midnight I woke with a cry, <a href="#page_199">199</a><br /> -Little Cowboy, what have you heard, <a href="#page_40">40</a><br /> -<br /> -Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord, <a href="#page_133">133</a><br /> -My mother’s hands are cool and fair, <a href="#page_215">215</a><br /> -<br /> -Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories are!, <a href="#page_94">94</a><br /> -Now the bright morning star, day’s harbinger, <a href="#page_39">39</a><br /> -<br /> -O Captain! my Captain! our fearful trip is done, <a href="#page_212">212</a><br /> -O! I wish the sun was bright in the sky, <a href="#page_100">100</a><br /> -“O Mary, go and call the cattle home, <a href="#page_234">234</a><br /> -“O well is me, my gay gos-hawk, <a href="#page_178">178</a><br /> -O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms, <a href="#page_168">168</a><br /> -O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West!, <a href="#page_246">246</a><br /> -Often I think of the beautiful town, <a href="#page_130">130</a><br /> -Old Meg she was a Gipsy, <a href="#page_22">22</a><br /> -On either side the river lie, <a href="#page_46">46</a><br /> -Out of the hills of Habersham, <a href="#page_206">206</a><br /> -<br /> -Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, <a href="#page_135">135</a><br /> -<br /> -Queen and Huntress, chaste and fair, <a href="#page_59">59</a><br /> -<br /> -Say what you like, <a href="#page_221">221</a><br /> -<span class="pagenum"><a name="page_267" id="page_267">{267}</a><br /></span>Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, <a href="#page_138">138</a><br /> -Sherwood in the twilight, is Robin Hood awake?, <a href="#page_89">89</a><br /> -Sister, awake! close not your eyes!, <a href="#page_236">236</a><br /> -“Speak! speak! thou fearful guest!, <a href="#page_237">237</a><br /> -Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year’s pleasant king, <a href="#page_175">175</a><br /> -<br /> -Teach me, Father, how to go, <a href="#page_245">245</a><br /> -The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold, <a href="#page_92">92</a><br /> -The Cock is crowing, <a href="#page_31">31</a><br /> -The king sits in Dunfermline toun, <a href="#page_101">101</a><br /> -The lights from the parlour and kitchen shone out, <a href="#page_205">205</a><br /> -The Minstrel-boy to the war is gone, <a href="#page_137">137</a><br /> -The mountain and the squirrel, <a href="#page_140">140</a><br /> -The splendor falls on castle walls, <a href="#page_151">151</a><br /> -The year’s at the spring, <a href="#page_36">36</a><br /> -There was an old woman, <a href="#page_24">24</a><br /> -There’s a bower of roses by Bendemeer’s stream, <a href="#page_244">244</a><br /> -Three jolly Farmers, <a href="#page_249">249</a><br /> -Tiger! Tiger! burning bright, <a href="#page_98">98</a><br /> -Time, you old gipsy man, <a href="#page_124">124</a><br /> -Tree-toad is a small gray person, <a href="#page_223">223</a><br /> -<br /> -Under the greenwood tree, <a href="#page_37">37</a><br /> -Up the airy mountain, <a href="#page_162">162</a><br /> -<br /> -Waken, lords and ladies gay!, <a href="#page_44">44</a><br /> -Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie, <a href="#page_159">159</a><br /> -Welcome, maids of honor, <a href="#page_38">38</a><br /> -When icicles hang by the wall, <a href="#page_142">142</a><br /> -When the hounds of spring are on winter’s traces, <a href="#page_32">32</a><br /> -When the voices of children are heard on the green, <a href="#page_158">158</a><br /> -Who would true valor see, <a href="#page_76">76</a><br /> -<br /> -You spotted snakes with double tongue, <a href="#page_78">78</a><br /> -</p> - -<hr class="full" /> -<div style='display:block; margin-top:4em'>*** END OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK RAINBOW GOLD; POEMS OLD AND NEW SELECTED FOR BOYS AND GIRLS ***</div> -<div style='text-align:left'> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Updated editions will replace the previous one—the old editions will -be renamed. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -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. Special rules, set forth in the General Terms of Use part -of this license, apply to copying and distributing Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works to protect the PROJECT GUTENBERG™ -concept and trademark. Project Gutenberg is a registered trademark, -and may not be used if you charge for an eBook, except by following -the terms of the trademark license, including paying royalties for use -of the Project Gutenberg trademark. If you do not charge anything for -copies of this eBook, complying with the trademark license is very -easy. You may use this eBook for nearly any purpose such as creation -of derivative works, reports, performances and research. Project -Gutenberg eBooks may be modified and printed and given away—you may -do practically ANYTHING in the United States with eBooks not protected -by U.S. copyright law. Redistribution is subject to the trademark -license, especially commercial redistribution. -</div> - -<div style='margin:0.83em 0; font-size:1.1em; text-align:center'>START: FULL LICENSE<br /> -<span style='font-size:smaller'>THE FULL PROJECT GUTENBERG LICENSE<br /> -PLEASE READ THIS BEFORE YOU DISTRIBUTE OR USE THIS WORK</span> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -To protect the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting the free -distribution of electronic works, by using or distributing this work -(or any other work associated in any way with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg”), you agree to comply with all the terms of the Full -Project Gutenberg™ License available with this file or online at -www.gutenberg.org/license. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 1. General Terms of Use and Redistributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.A. By reading or using any part of this Project Gutenberg™ -electronic work, you indicate that you have read, understand, agree to -and accept all the terms of this license and intellectual property -(trademark/copyright) agreement. If you do not agree to abide by all -the terms of this agreement, you must cease using and return or -destroy all copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in your -possession. If you paid a fee for obtaining a copy of or access to a -Project Gutenberg™ electronic work and you do not agree to be bound -by the terms of this agreement, you may obtain a refund from the person -or entity to whom you paid the fee as set forth in paragraph 1.E.8. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.B. “Project Gutenberg” is a registered trademark. It may only be -used on or associated in any way with an electronic work by people who -agree to be bound by the terms of this agreement. There are a few -things that you can do with most Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -even without complying with the full terms of this agreement. See -paragraph 1.C below. There are a lot of things you can do with Project -Gutenberg™ electronic works if you follow the terms of this -agreement and help preserve free future access to Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works. See paragraph 1.E below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.C. The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation (“the -Foundation” or PGLAF), owns a compilation copyright in the collection -of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works. Nearly all the individual -works in the collection are in the public domain in the United -States. If an individual work is unprotected by copyright law in the -United States and you are located in the United States, we do not -claim a right to prevent you from copying, distributing, performing, -displaying or creating derivative works based on the work as long as -all references to Project Gutenberg are removed. Of course, we hope -that you will support the Project Gutenberg™ mission of promoting -free access to electronic works by freely sharing Project Gutenberg™ -works in compliance with the terms of this agreement for keeping the -Project Gutenberg™ name associated with the work. You can easily -comply with the terms of this agreement by keeping this work in the -same format with its attached full Project Gutenberg™ License when -you share it without charge with others. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.D. The copyright laws of the place where you are located also govern -what you can do with this work. Copyright laws in most countries are -in a constant state of change. If you are outside the United States, -check the laws of your country in addition to the terms of this -agreement before downloading, copying, displaying, performing, -distributing or creating derivative works based on this work or any -other Project Gutenberg™ work. The Foundation makes no -representations concerning the copyright status of any work in any -country other than the United States. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E. Unless you have removed all references to Project Gutenberg: -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.1. The following sentence, with active links to, or other -immediate access to, the full Project Gutenberg™ License must appear -prominently whenever any copy of a Project Gutenberg™ work (any work -on which the phrase “Project Gutenberg” appears, or with which the -phrase “Project Gutenberg” is associated) is accessed, displayed, -performed, viewed, copied or distributed: -</div> - -<blockquote> - <div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> - 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 <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. If you - are not located in the United States, you will have to check the laws - of the country where you are located before using this eBook. - </div> -</blockquote> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.2. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is -derived from texts not protected by U.S. copyright law (does not -contain a notice indicating that it is posted with permission of the -copyright holder), the work can be copied and distributed to anyone in -the United States without paying any fees or charges. If you are -redistributing or providing access to a work with the phrase “Project -Gutenberg” associated with or appearing on the work, you must comply -either with the requirements of paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 or -obtain permission for the use of the work and the Project Gutenberg™ -trademark as set forth in paragraphs 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.3. If an individual Project Gutenberg™ electronic work is posted -with the permission of the copyright holder, your use and distribution -must comply with both paragraphs 1.E.1 through 1.E.7 and any -additional terms imposed by the copyright holder. Additional terms -will be linked to the Project Gutenberg™ License for all works -posted with the permission of the copyright holder found at the -beginning of this work. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.4. Do not unlink or detach or remove the full Project Gutenberg™ -License terms from this work, or any files containing a part of this -work or any other work associated with Project Gutenberg™. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.5. Do not copy, display, perform, distribute or redistribute this -electronic work, or any part of this electronic work, without -prominently displaying the sentence set forth in paragraph 1.E.1 with -active links or immediate access to the full terms of the Project -Gutenberg™ License. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.6. You may convert to and distribute this work in any binary, -compressed, marked up, nonproprietary or proprietary form, including -any word processing or hypertext form. However, if you provide access -to or distribute copies of a Project Gutenberg™ work in a format -other than “Plain Vanilla ASCII” or other format used in the official -version posted on the official Project Gutenberg™ website -(www.gutenberg.org), you must, at no additional cost, fee or expense -to the user, provide a copy, a means of exporting a copy, or a means -of obtaining a copy upon request, of the work in its original “Plain -Vanilla ASCII” or other form. Any alternate format must include the -full Project Gutenberg™ License as specified in paragraph 1.E.1. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.7. Do not charge a fee for access to, viewing, displaying, -performing, copying or distributing any Project Gutenberg™ works -unless you comply with paragraph 1.E.8 or 1.E.9. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.8. You may charge a reasonable fee for copies of or providing -access to or distributing Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -provided that: -</div> - -<div style='margin-left:0.7em;'> - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You pay a royalty fee of 20% of the gross profits you derive from - the use of Project Gutenberg™ works calculated using the method - you already use to calculate your applicable taxes. The fee is owed - to the owner of the Project Gutenberg™ trademark, but he has - agreed to donate royalties under this paragraph to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation. Royalty payments must be paid - within 60 days following each date on which you prepare (or are - legally required to prepare) your periodic tax returns. Royalty - payments should be clearly marked as such and sent to the Project - Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation at the address specified in - Section 4, “Information about donations to the Project Gutenberg - Literary Archive Foundation.” - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide a full refund of any money paid by a user who notifies - you in writing (or by e-mail) within 30 days of receipt that s/he - does not agree to the terms of the full Project Gutenberg™ - License. You must require such a user to return or destroy all - copies of the works possessed in a physical medium and discontinue - all use of and all access to other copies of Project Gutenberg™ - works. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You provide, in accordance with paragraph 1.F.3, a full refund of - any money paid for a work or a replacement copy, if a defect in the - electronic work is discovered and reported to you within 90 days of - receipt of the work. - </div> - - <div style='text-indent:-0.7em'> - • You comply with all other terms of this agreement for free - distribution of Project Gutenberg™ works. - </div> -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.E.9. If you wish to charge a fee or distribute a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work or group of works on different terms than -are set forth in this agreement, you must obtain permission in writing -from the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the manager of -the Project Gutenberg™ trademark. Contact the Foundation as set -forth in Section 3 below. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.1. Project Gutenberg volunteers and employees expend considerable -effort to identify, do copyright research on, transcribe and proofread -works not protected by U.S. copyright law in creating the Project -Gutenberg™ collection. Despite these efforts, Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, and the medium on which they may be stored, may -contain “Defects,” such as, but not limited to, incomplete, inaccurate -or corrupt data, transcription errors, a copyright or other -intellectual property infringement, a defective or damaged disk or -other medium, a computer virus, or computer codes that damage or -cannot be read by your equipment. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.2. LIMITED WARRANTY, DISCLAIMER OF DAMAGES - Except for the “Right -of Replacement or Refund” described in paragraph 1.F.3, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation, the owner of the Project -Gutenberg™ trademark, and any other party distributing a Project -Gutenberg™ electronic work under this agreement, disclaim all -liability to you for damages, costs and expenses, including legal -fees. YOU AGREE THAT YOU HAVE NO REMEDIES FOR NEGLIGENCE, STRICT -LIABILITY, BREACH OF WARRANTY OR BREACH OF CONTRACT EXCEPT THOSE -PROVIDED IN PARAGRAPH 1.F.3. YOU AGREE THAT THE FOUNDATION, THE -TRADEMARK OWNER, AND ANY DISTRIBUTOR UNDER THIS AGREEMENT WILL NOT BE -LIABLE TO YOU FOR ACTUAL, DIRECT, INDIRECT, CONSEQUENTIAL, PUNITIVE OR -INCIDENTAL DAMAGES EVEN IF YOU GIVE NOTICE OF THE POSSIBILITY OF SUCH -DAMAGE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.3. LIMITED RIGHT OF REPLACEMENT OR REFUND - If you discover a -defect in this electronic work within 90 days of receiving it, you can -receive a refund of the money (if any) you paid for it by sending a -written explanation to the person you received the work from. If you -received the work on a physical medium, you must return the medium -with your written explanation. The person or entity that provided you -with the defective work may elect to provide a replacement copy in -lieu of a refund. If you received the work electronically, the person -or entity providing it to you may choose to give you a second -opportunity to receive the work electronically in lieu of a refund. If -the second copy is also defective, you may demand a refund in writing -without further opportunities to fix the problem. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.4. Except for the limited right of replacement or refund set forth -in paragraph 1.F.3, this work is provided to you ‘AS-IS’, WITH NO -OTHER WARRANTIES OF ANY KIND, EXPRESS OR IMPLIED, INCLUDING BUT NOT -LIMITED TO WARRANTIES OF MERCHANTABILITY OR FITNESS FOR ANY PURPOSE. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.5. Some states do not allow disclaimers of certain implied -warranties or the exclusion or limitation of certain types of -damages. If any disclaimer or limitation set forth in this agreement -violates the law of the state applicable to this agreement, the -agreement shall be interpreted to make the maximum disclaimer or -limitation permitted by the applicable state law. The invalidity or -unenforceability of any provision of this agreement shall not void the -remaining provisions. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -1.F.6. INDEMNITY - You agree to indemnify and hold the Foundation, the -trademark owner, any agent or employee of the Foundation, anyone -providing copies of Project Gutenberg™ electronic works in -accordance with this agreement, and any volunteers associated with the -production, promotion and distribution of Project Gutenberg™ -electronic works, harmless from all liability, costs and expenses, -including legal fees, that arise directly or indirectly from any of -the following which you do or cause to occur: (a) distribution of this -or any Project Gutenberg™ work, (b) alteration, modification, or -additions or deletions to any Project Gutenberg™ work, and (c) any -Defect you cause. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 2. Information about the Mission of Project Gutenberg™ -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ is synonymous with the free distribution of -electronic works in formats readable by the widest variety of -computers including obsolete, old, middle-aged and new computers. It -exists because of the efforts of hundreds of volunteers and donations -from people in all walks of life. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Volunteers and financial support to provide volunteers with the -assistance they need are critical to reaching Project Gutenberg™’s -goals and ensuring that the Project Gutenberg™ collection will -remain freely available for generations to come. In 2001, the Project -Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation was created to provide a secure -and permanent future for Project Gutenberg™ and future -generations. To learn more about the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation and how your efforts and donations can help, see -Sections 3 and 4 and the Foundation information page at www.gutenberg.org. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 3. Information about the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation is a non-profit -501(c)(3) educational corporation organized under the laws of the -state of Mississippi and granted tax exempt status by the Internal -Revenue Service. The Foundation’s EIN or federal tax identification -number is 64-6221541. Contributions to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation are tax deductible to the full extent permitted by -U.S. federal laws and your state’s laws. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation’s business office is located at 809 North 1500 West, -Salt Lake City, UT 84116, (801) 596-1887. Email contact links and up -to date contact information can be found at the Foundation’s website -and official page at www.gutenberg.org/contact -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 4. Information about Donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary Archive Foundation -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ depends upon and cannot survive without widespread -public support and donations to carry out its mission of -increasing the number of public domain and licensed works that can be -freely distributed in machine-readable form accessible by the widest -array of equipment including outdated equipment. Many small donations -($1 to $5,000) are particularly important to maintaining tax exempt -status with the IRS. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -The Foundation is committed to complying with the laws regulating -charities and charitable donations in all 50 states of the United -States. Compliance requirements are not uniform and it takes a -considerable effort, much paperwork and many fees to meet and keep up -with these requirements. We do not solicit donations in locations -where we have not received written confirmation of compliance. To SEND -DONATIONS or determine the status of compliance for any particular state -visit <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org/donate/">www.gutenberg.org/donate</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -While we cannot and do not solicit contributions from states where we -have not met the solicitation requirements, we know of no prohibition -against accepting unsolicited donations from donors in such states who -approach us with offers to donate. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -International donations are gratefully accepted, but we cannot make -any statements concerning tax treatment of donations received from -outside the United States. U.S. laws alone swamp our small staff. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Please check the Project Gutenberg web pages for current donation -methods and addresses. Donations are accepted in a number of other -ways including checks, online payments and credit card donations. To -donate, please visit: www.gutenberg.org/donate -</div> - -<div style='display:block; font-size:1.1em; margin:1em 0; font-weight:bold'> -Section 5. General Information About Project Gutenberg™ electronic works -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Professor Michael S. Hart was the originator of the Project -Gutenberg™ concept of a library of electronic works that could be -freely shared with anyone. For forty years, he produced and -distributed Project Gutenberg™ eBooks with only a loose network of -volunteer support. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Project Gutenberg™ eBooks are often created from several printed -editions, all of which are confirmed as not protected by copyright in -the U.S. unless a copyright notice is included. Thus, we do not -necessarily keep eBooks in compliance with any particular paper -edition. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -Most people start at our website which has the main PG search -facility: <a href="https://www.gutenberg.org">www.gutenberg.org</a>. -</div> - -<div style='display:block; margin:1em 0'> -This website includes information about Project Gutenberg™, -including how to make donations to the Project Gutenberg Literary -Archive Foundation, how to help produce our new eBooks, and how to -subscribe to our email newsletter to hear about new eBooks. -</div> - -</div> -</body> -</html> diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/colophon.png b/old/67522-h/images/colophon.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 368811b..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/colophon.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/cover.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/cover.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index eb7aced..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/cover.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/end.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/end.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a91c88f..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/end.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/frontis.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/frontis.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 63c74be..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/frontis.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/halftitle.png b/old/67522-h/images/halftitle.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ce39292..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/halftitle.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image004.png b/old/67522-h/images/image004.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 04831f0..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image004.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image005.png b/old/67522-h/images/image005.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index de0ba9d..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image005.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image009.png b/old/67522-h/images/image009.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 56f6f81..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image009.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image010.png b/old/67522-h/images/image010.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 36f31a9..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image010.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image011.png b/old/67522-h/images/image011.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7e486ef..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image011.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image012.png b/old/67522-h/images/image012.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e5d522d..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image012.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image013.png b/old/67522-h/images/image013.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c2285f8..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image013.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image015.png b/old/67522-h/images/image015.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d091a36..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image015.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image016.png b/old/67522-h/images/image016.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f220935..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image016.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image017.png b/old/67522-h/images/image017.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e5c9a2c..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image017.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image018.png b/old/67522-h/images/image018.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4bba8a7..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image018.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image021.png b/old/67522-h/images/image021.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 196a082..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image021.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image022.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image022.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index fe0c624..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image022.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image024.png b/old/67522-h/images/image024.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4435ca4..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image024.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image026.png b/old/67522-h/images/image026.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 39c264a..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image026.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image027.png b/old/67522-h/images/image027.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1be34d1..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image027.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image028.png b/old/67522-h/images/image028.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 499e658..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image028.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image029.png b/old/67522-h/images/image029.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 688c205..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image029.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image030.png b/old/67522-h/images/image030.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 73291f0..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image030.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image033.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image033.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 942a9b3..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image033.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image035.png b/old/67522-h/images/image035.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d5c978f..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image035.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image036.png b/old/67522-h/images/image036.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6812d54..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image036.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image037.png b/old/67522-h/images/image037.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 331918f..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image037.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image038.png b/old/67522-h/images/image038.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d7df4ba..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image038.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image039.png b/old/67522-h/images/image039.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ea4e337..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image039.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image040.png b/old/67522-h/images/image040.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4973540..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image040.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image041.png b/old/67522-h/images/image041.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4132ee6..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image041.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image042.png b/old/67522-h/images/image042.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d295813..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image042.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image043.png b/old/67522-h/images/image043.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1129d62..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image043.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image045.png b/old/67522-h/images/image045.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6ec60a0..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image045.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image046.png b/old/67522-h/images/image046.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index fded175..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image046.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image048.png b/old/67522-h/images/image048.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3520636..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image048.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image049.png b/old/67522-h/images/image049.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d4845e7..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image049.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image050.png b/old/67522-h/images/image050.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2622583..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image050.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image051.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image051.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2ba3161..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image051.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image054.png b/old/67522-h/images/image054.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 392b4c1..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image054.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image058.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image058.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d83f266..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image058.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image061.png b/old/67522-h/images/image061.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f16da7b..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image061.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image063.png b/old/67522-h/images/image063.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 429b68c..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image063.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image064.png b/old/67522-h/images/image064.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 27600f8..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image064.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image069.png b/old/67522-h/images/image069.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 93f0635..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image069.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image074.png b/old/67522-h/images/image074.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 558e270..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image074.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image075.png b/old/67522-h/images/image075.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 63f4af8..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image075.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image077.png b/old/67522-h/images/image077.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b54c4f0..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image077.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image079.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image079.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index aef91ca..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image079.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image081.png b/old/67522-h/images/image081.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index f887abc..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image081.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image083.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image083.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e4a8656..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image083.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image091.png b/old/67522-h/images/image091.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6f10e2c..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image091.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image097.png b/old/67522-h/images/image097.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 2ce3e82..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image097.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image099.png b/old/67522-h/images/image099.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 445ca08..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image099.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image100.png b/old/67522-h/images/image100.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e64e703..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image100.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image105.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image105.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 09e7952..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image105.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image109.png b/old/67522-h/images/image109.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index b0e8f7e..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image109.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image113.png b/old/67522-h/images/image113.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 56f05bd..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image113.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image115.png b/old/67522-h/images/image115.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 3e616a2..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image115.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image117.png b/old/67522-h/images/image117.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c10b19d..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image117.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image118.png b/old/67522-h/images/image118.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d285aa5..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image118.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image123.png b/old/67522-h/images/image123.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1d103a3..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image123.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image125.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image125.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1f92a77..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image125.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image127.png b/old/67522-h/images/image127.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 74ee764..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image127.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image129.png b/old/67522-h/images/image129.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9fa207e..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image129.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image132.png b/old/67522-h/images/image132.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a9f713c..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image132.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image134.png b/old/67522-h/images/image134.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7800f0c..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image134.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image136.png b/old/67522-h/images/image136.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c256841..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image136.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image137.png b/old/67522-h/images/image137.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 620fff9..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image137.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image139.png b/old/67522-h/images/image139.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 32b7da0..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image139.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image140.png b/old/67522-h/images/image140.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 01b8f42..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image140.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image144.png b/old/67522-h/images/image144.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5aa4354..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image144.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image147.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image147.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7389953..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image147.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image150.png b/old/67522-h/images/image150.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7574fd5..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image150.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image154.png b/old/67522-h/images/image154.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7a3d900..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image154.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image157.png b/old/67522-h/images/image157.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a26c64a..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image157.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image161.png b/old/67522-h/images/image161.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9c2c76f..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image161.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image162.png b/old/67522-h/images/image162.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c106862..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image162.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image165.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image165.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5a3134c..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image165.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image167.png b/old/67522-h/images/image167.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6e7a396..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image167.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image169.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image169.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a5b893d..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image169.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image172.png b/old/67522-h/images/image172.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8e41122..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image172.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image174.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image174.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c0106fb..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image174.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image175.png b/old/67522-h/images/image175.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0699316..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image175.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image177.png b/old/67522-h/images/image177.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index be76a7f..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image177.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image179.png b/old/67522-h/images/image179.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e7e3858..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image179.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image182.png b/old/67522-h/images/image182.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 7cb1e4b..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image182.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image185.png b/old/67522-h/images/image185.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index db794f6..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image185.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image188.png b/old/67522-h/images/image188.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9af63e2..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image188.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image191.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image191.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 262fb29..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image191.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image195.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image195.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d7cddc4..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image195.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image198.png b/old/67522-h/images/image198.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 56ecf39..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image198.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image205.png b/old/67522-h/images/image205.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 4acb680..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image205.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image208.png b/old/67522-h/images/image208.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 145bf92..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image208.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image210.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image210.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 6907377..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image210.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image213.png b/old/67522-h/images/image213.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d870326..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image213.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image216.png b/old/67522-h/images/image216.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index ed5a9fd..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image216.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image219.png b/old/67522-h/images/image219.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 47f838f..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image219.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image222.png b/old/67522-h/images/image222.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 8374cb5..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image222.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image224.png b/old/67522-h/images/image224.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 9df15bb..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image224.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image226.png b/old/67522-h/images/image226.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c1c52f0..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image226.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image229.png b/old/67522-h/images/image229.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index be4aac8..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image229.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image231.png b/old/67522-h/images/image231.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index c8cd2f9..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image231.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image233.png b/old/67522-h/images/image233.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e2480d7..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image233.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image235.png b/old/67522-h/images/image235.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index a346c9c..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image235.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image236.png b/old/67522-h/images/image236.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 5092c47..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image236.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image243.png b/old/67522-h/images/image243.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index e3e9f49..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image243.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image244.png b/old/67522-h/images/image244.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 25cd004..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image244.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image248.png b/old/67522-h/images/image248.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 1040a3c..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image248.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image251.jpg b/old/67522-h/images/image251.jpg Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 785f7a3..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image251.jpg +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image255.png b/old/67522-h/images/image255.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 0d381ae..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image255.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/image257.png b/old/67522-h/images/image257.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index 80d9231..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/image257.png +++ /dev/null diff --git a/old/67522-h/images/titlepage.png b/old/67522-h/images/titlepage.png Binary files differdeleted file mode 100644 index d0ff35e..0000000 --- a/old/67522-h/images/titlepage.png +++ /dev/null |
