The Home Book of Verse — Volume 4
by Burton Egbert Stevenson · English · Gutenberg #2622 · 434,757 chars · public domain (US)
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Title: The Home Book of Verse — Volume 4
Author: Burton Egbert Stevenson
Release date: May 1, 2001 [eBook #2622]
Most recently updated: September 5, 2026
Language: English
Other information and formats: www.gutenberg.org/ebooks/2622
Credits: Produced by Dennis Schreiner, and David Widger
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK THE HOME BOOK OF VERSE — VOLUME 4 ***
THE HOME BOOK OF VERSE,
Volume 4
By Burton Egbert Stevenson
Contents of Volumes 1 through 4 of our Etext editions:
PART I
POEMS OF YOUTH AND AGE
The Human Seasons John Keats
THE BABY
"Only a Baby Small" Matthias Barr
Only Harriet Prescott Spofford
Infant Joy William Blake
Baby George Macdonald
To a New-Born Baby Girl Grace Hazard Conkling
To Little Renee William Aspenwall Bradley
A Rhyme of One Frederick Locker-Lampson
To a New-Born Child Cosmo Monkhouse
Baby May William Cox Bennett
Alice Herbert Bashford
Songs for Fragoletta Richard Le Gallienne
Choosing a Name Mary Lamb
Weighing the Baby Ethel Lynn Beers
Etude Realiste Algernon Charles Swinburne
Little Feet Elizabeth Akers
The Babie Jeremiah Eames Rankin
Little Hands Laurence Binyon
Bartholomew Norman Gale
The Storm-Child May Byron
"On Parent Knees" William Jones
"Philip, My King" Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
The King of the Cradle Joseph Ashby-Sterry
The Firstborn John Arthur Goodchild
No Baby in the House Clara Dolliver
Our Wee White Rose Gerald Massey
Into the World and Out Sarah M. P. Piatt
"Baby Sleeps" Samuel Hinds
Baby Bell Thomas Bailey Aldrich
IN THE NURSERY
Mother Goose's Melodies Unknown
Jack and Jill Unknown
The Queen of Hearts Unknown
Little Bo-Peep Unknown
Mary's Lamb Sarah Josepha Hale
The Star Jane Taylor
"Sing a Song of Sixpence" Unknown
Simple Simon Unknown
A Pleasant Ship Unknown
"I Had a Little Husband" Unknown
"When I Was a Bachelor" Unknown
"Johnny Shall Have a New
Bonnet" Unknown
The City Mouse and the
Garden Mouse Christina Rossetti
Robin Redbreast Unknown
Solomon Grundy Unknown
"Merry Are the Bells" Unknown
"When Good King Arthur
Ruled This Land" Unknown
The Bells of London Unknown
"The Owl and the Eel and
the Warming Pan" Laura E. Richards
The Cow Ann Taylor
The Lamb William Blake
Little Raindrops Unknown
"Moon, So Round and Yellow" Matthias Barr
The House That Jack Built Unknown
Old Mother Hubbard Unknown
The Death and Burial of
Cock Robin Unknown
Baby-Land George Cooper
The First Tooth William Brighty Rands
Baby's Breakfast Emilie Poulsson
The Moon Eliza Lee Follen
Baby at Play Unknown
The Difference Laura E. Richards
Foot Soldiers John Banister Tabb
Tom Thumb's Alphabet Unknown
Grammar in Rhyme Unknown
Days of the Month Unknown
The Garden Year Sara Coleridge
Riddles Unknown
Proverbs Unknown
Kind Hearts Unknown
Weather Wisdom Unknown
Old Superstitions Unknown
THE ROAD TO SLUMBERLAND
Wynken, Blynken, and Nod Eugene Field
The Sugar-Plum Tree Eugene Field
When the Sleepy Man Comes Charles G. D. Roberts
Auld Daddy Darkness James Ferguson
Willie Winkle William Miller
The Sandman Margaret Thomson Janvier
The Dustman Frederick Edward Weatherly
Sephestia's Lullaby Robert Greene
"Golden Slumbers Kiss Your
Eyes" Thomas Dekker
"Sleep, Baby, Sleep" George Wither
Mother's Song Unknown
A Lullaby Richard Rowlands
A Cradle Hymn Isaac Watts
Cradle Song William Blake
Lullaby Carolina Nairne
Lullaby of an Infant Chief Walter Scott
Good-Night Jane Taylor
"Lullaby, O Lullaby" William Cox Bennett
Lullaby Alfred Tennyson
The Cottager to Her Infant Dorothy Wordsworth
Trot, Trot! Mary F. Butts
Holy Innocents Christina Georgina Rossetti
Lullaby Josiah Gilbert Holland
Cradle Song Josiah Gilbert Holland
An Irish Lullaby Alfred Perceval Graves
Cradle Song Josephine Preston Peabody
Mother-Song from "Prince
Lucifer" Alfred Austin
Kentucky Babe Richard Henry Buck
Minnie and Winnie Alfred Tennyson
Bed-Time Song Emilie Poulsson
Tucking the Baby In Curtis May
"Jenny Wi' the Airn Teeth" Alexander Anderson
Cuddle Doon Alexander Anderson
Bedtime Francis Robert St. Clair Erskine
THE DUTY OF CHILDREN
Happy Thought Robert Louis Stevenson
Whole Duty of Children Robert Louis Stevenson
Politeness Elizabeth Turner
Rules of Behavior Unknown
Little Fred Unknown
The Lovable Child Emilie Poulsson
Good and Bad Children Robert Louis Stevenson
Rebecca's After-Thought Elizabeth Turner
Kindness to Animals Unknown
A Rule for Birds' Nesters Unknown
"Sing on, Blithe Bird" William Motherwell
"I Like Little Pussy" Jane Taylor
Little Things Julia Fletcher Carney
The Little Gentleman Unknown
The Crust of Bread Unknown
"How Doth the Little Busy
Bee" Isaac Watts
The Brown Thrush Lucy Larcom
The Sluggard Isaac Watts
The Violet Jane Taylor
Dirty Jim Jane Taylor
The Pin Ann Taylor
Jane and Eliza Ann Taylor
Meddlesome Matty Ann Taylor
Contented John Jane Taylor
Friends Abbie Farwell Brown
Anger Charles and Mary Lamb
"There Was a Little Girl" H. W. Longfellow
The Reformation of Godfrey
Gore William Brighty Rands
The Best Firm Walter G. Doty
A Little Page's Song William Alexander Percy
How the Little Kite Learned
to Fly Unknown
The Butterfly and the Bee William Lisle Bowles
The Butterfly Adelaide O'Keefe
Morning Jane Taylor
Buttercups and Daisies Mary Howitt
The Ant and the Cricket Unknown
After Wings Sarah M. B. Piatt
Deeds of Kindness Epes Sargent
The Lion and the Mouse Jeffreys Taylor
The Boy and the Wolf John Hookham Frere
The Story of Augustus, Who
Would Not Have Any Soup Heinrich Hoffman
The Story of Little
Suck-A-Thumb Heinrich Hoffman
Written in a Little Lady's
Little Album Frederick William Faber
My Lady Wind Unknown
To a Child William Wordsworth
A Farewell Charles Kingsley
RHYMES OF CHILDHOOD
Reeds of Innocence William Blake
The Wonderful World William Brighty Rands
The World's Music Gabriel Setoun
A Boy's Song James Hogg
Going Down Hill On a Bicycle Henry Charles Beeching
Playgrounds Laurence Alma-Tadema
"Who Has Seen the Wind?" Christina Georgina Rossetti
The Wind's Song Gabriel Setoun
The Piper on the Hill Dora Sigerson Shorter
The Wind and the Moon George Macdonald
Child's Song in Spring Edith Nesbit
Baby Seed Song Edith Nesbit
Little Dandelion Helen Barron Bostwick
Little White Lily George Macdonald
Wishing William Allingham
In the Garden Ernest Crosby
The Gladness of Nature William Cullen Bryant
Glad Day W. Graham Robertson
The Tiger William Blake
Answer to a Child's Question Samuel Taylor Coleridge
How the Leaves Came Down Susan Coolidge
A Legend of the Northland Phoebe Cary
The Cricket's Story Emma Huntington Nason
The Singing-Lesson Jean Ingelow
Chanticleer Katherine Tynan
"What Does Little Birdie
Say?" Alfred Tennyson
Nurse's Song William Blake
Jack Frost Gabriel Setoun
October's Party George Cooper
The Shepherd William Blake
Nikolina Celia Thaxter
Little Gustava Celia Thaxter
Prince Tatters Laura E. Richards
The Little Black Boy William Blake
The Blind Boy Colley Cibber
Bunches of Grapes Walter de la Mare
My Shadow Robert Louis Stevenson
The Land of Counterpane Robert Louis Stevenson
The Land of Story-Books Robert Louis Stevenson
The Gardener Robert Louis Stevenson
Foreign Lands Robert Louis Stevenson
My Bed is a Boat Robert Louis Stevenson
The Peddler's Caravan William Brighty Rands
Mr. Coggs Edward Verrall Lucas
The Building of the Nest Margaret Sangster
"There was a Jolly Miller" Isaac Bickerstaff
One and One Mary Mapes Dodge
A Nursery Song Laura E. Richards
A Mortifying Mistake Anna Maria Pratt
The Raggedy Man James Whitcomb Riley
The Man in the Moon James Whitcomb Riley
Little Orphant Annie James Whitcomb Riley
Our Hired Girl James Whitcomb Riley
See'n Things Eugene Field
The Duel Eugene Field
Holy Thursday William Blake
A Story for a Child Bayard Taylor
The Spider and the Fly Mary Howitt
The Captain's Daughter James Thomas Fields
The Nightingale and the
Glow-Worm William Cowper
Sir Lark and King Sun: A
Parable George Macdonald
The Courtship, Merry
Marriage, and Picnic
Dinner of Cock Robin
and Jenny Wren Unknown
The Babes in the Wood Unknown
God's Judgment on a
Wicked Bishop Robert Southey
The Pied Piper of Hamelin Robert Browning
THE GLAD EVANGEL
A Carol Unknown
"God Rest You Merry
Gentlemen" Unknown
'O Little Town of Bethlehem" Phillips Brooks
A Christmas Hymn Alfred Domett
"While Shepherds Watched
their Flocks by Night" Nahum Tate
Christmas Carols Edmund Hamilton Sears
The Angels William Drummond
The Burning Babe Robert Southwell
Tryste Noel Louise Imogen Guiney
Christmas Carol Unknown
"Brightest and Best of the
Sons of the Morning" Reginald Heber
Christmas Bells Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
A Christmas Carol Gilbert Keith Chesterton
The House of Christmas Gilbert Keith Chesterton
The Feast of the Snow Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Mary's Baby Shaemas OSheel
Gates and Doors Joyce Kilmer
The Three Kings Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Lullaby in Bethlehem Henry Howarth Bashford
A Child's Song of Christmas Marjorie L. C. Pickthall
Jest 'Fore Christmas Eugene Field
A Visit from St. Nicholas Clement Clarke Moore
Ceremonies for Christmas Robert Herrick
On the Morning of Christ's
Nativity John Milton
FAIRYLAND
The Fairy Book Norman Gale
Fairy Songs William Shakespeare
Queen Mab Ben Jonson
The Elf and the Dormouse Oliver Herford
"Oh! Where Do Fairies Hide
Their Heads?" Thomas Haynes Bayly
Fairy Song Leigh Hunt
Dream Song Richard Middleton
Fairy Song John Keats
Queen Mab Thomas Hood
The Fairies of the
Caldon-Low Mary Howitt
The Fairies William Allingham
The Fairy Thrall Mary C. G. Byron
Farewell to the Fairies Richard Corbet
The Fairy Folk Robert Bird
The Fairy Book Abbie Farwell Brown
The Visitor Patrick R. Chalmers
The Little Elf John Kendrick Bangs
The Satyrs and the Moon Herbert S. Gorman
THE CHILDREN
The Children Charles Monroe Dickinson
The Children's Hour Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Laus Infantium William Canton
The Desire Katherine Tynan
A Child's Laughter Algernon Charles Swinburne
Seven Years Old Algernon Charles Swinburne
Creep Afore Ye Gang James Ballantine
Castles in the Air James Ballantine
Under My Window Thomas Westwood
Little Bell Thomas Westwood
The Barefoot Boy John Greenleaf Whittier
The Heritage James Russell Lowell
Letty's Globe Charles Tennyson Turner
Dove's Nest Joseph Russell Taylor
The Oracle Arthur Davison Ficke
To a Little Girl Helen Parry Eden
To a Little Girl Gustav Kobbe
A Parental Ode to My Son Thomas Hood
A New Poet William Canton
To Laura W-, Two Years Old Nathaniel Parker Willis
To Rose Sara Teasdale
To Charlotte Pulteney Ambrose Philips
The Picture of Little T. C.
in a Prospect of Flowers Andrew Marvell
To Hartley Coleridge William Wordsworth
To a Child of Quality Matthew Prior
Ex Ore Infantium Francis Thompson
Obituary Thomas William Parsons
The Child's Heritage John G. Neihardt
A Girl of Pompeii Edward Sandford Martin
On the Picture of a "Child
Tired of Play" Nathaniel Parker Willis
The Reverie of Poor Susan William Wordsworth
Children's Song Ford Madox Hueffer
The Mitherless Bairn William Thom
The Cry of the Children Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The Shadow-Child Harriet Monroe
Mother Wept Joseph Skipsey
Duty Ralph Waldo Emerson
Lucy Gray William Wordsworth
In the Children's Hospital Alfred Tennyson
"If I Were Dead" Coventry Patmore
The Toys Coventry Patmore
A Song of Twilight Unknown
Little Boy Blue Eugene Field
The Discoverer Edmund Clarence Stedman
A Chrysalis Mary Emily Bradley
Mater Dolorosa William Barnes
The Little Ghost Katherine Tynan
Motherhood Josephine Daskam Bacon
The Mother's Prayer Dora Sigerson Shorter
Da Leetla Boy Thomas Augustin Daly
On the Moor Gale Young Rice
Epitaph of Dionysia Unknown
For Charlie's Sake John Williamson Palmer
"Are the Children at Home?" Margaret Sangster
The Morning-Glory Maria White Lowell
She Came and Went James Russell Lowell
The First Snow-fall James Russell Lowell
"We Are Seven" William Wordsworth
My Child John Pierpont
The Child's Wish Granted George Parsons Lathrop
Challenge Kenton Foster Murray
Tired Mothers May Riley Smith
My Daughter Louise Homer Greene
"I Am Lonely" George Eliot
Sonnets from "Mimma Bella" Eugene Lee-Hamilton
Rose-Marie of the Angels Adelaide Crapsey
MAIDENHOOD
Maidenhood Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
To the Virgins, to Make
Much of Time Robert Herrick
To Mistress Margaret Hussey John Skelton
On Her Coming To London Edmund Waller
"O, Saw Ye Bonny Lesley" Robert Burns
To a Young Lady William Cowper
Ruth Thomas Hood
The Solitary Reaper William Wordsworth
The Three Cottage Girls William Wordsworth
Blackmwore Maidens William Barnes
A Portrait Elizabeth Barrett Browning
To a Child of Fancy Lewis Morris
Daisy Francis Thompson
To Petronilla, Who Has
Put Up Her Hair Henry Howarth Bashford
The Gipsy Girl Henry Alford
Fanny Anne Reeve Aldrich
Somebody's Child Louise Chandler Moulton
Emilia Sarah N. Cleghorn
To a Greek Girl Austin Dobson
"Chamber Scene" Nathaniel Parker Willis
"Ah, Be Not False" Richard Watson Gilder
A Life-Lesson James Whitcomb Riley
THE MAN
The Breaking Margaret Steele Anderson
The Flight of Youth Richard Henry Stoddard
"Days of My Youth" St. George Tucker
Ave Atque Vale Rosamund Marriott Watson
To Youth Walter Savage Landor
Stanzas Written on the Road
Between Florence and Pisa George Gordon Byron
Stanzas for Music George Gordon Byron
"When As a Lad" Isabel Ecclestone Mackay
"Around the Child" Walter Savage Landor
Aladdin James Russell Lowell
The Quest Ellen Mackey Hutchinson Cortissoz
My Birth-Day Thomas Moore
Sonnet on His having Arrived
to the Age of Twenty-Three John Milton
On This Day I Complete My
Thirty-Sixth Year George Gordon Byron
Growing Gray Austin Dobson
The One White Hair Walter Savage Landor
Ballade of Middle Age Andrew Lang
Middle Age Rudolph Chambers Lehmann
To Critics Walter Learned
The Rainbow William Wordsworth
Leavetaking William Watson
Equinoctial Adeline D. T. Whitney
"Before the Beginning of
Years" Algernon Charles Swinburne
Man Henry Vaughan
The Pulley George Herbert
Ode on the Intimations of
Immortality from Recollections
of Early Childhood William Wordsworth
THE WOMAN
Woman Eaton Stannard Barrett
Woman From the Sanskrit of Calidasa
Simplex Munditiis Ben Jonson
Delight in Disorder Robert Herrick
A Praise of His Lady John Heywood
On a Certain Lady at Court Alexander Pope
Perfect Woman William Wordsworth
The Solitary-Hearted Hartley Coleridge
Of Those Who Walk Alone Richard Burton
"She Walks in Beauty" George Gordon Byron
Preludes from "The Angel in
The House" Coventry Patmore
A Health Edward Coote Pinkney
Our Sister Horatio Nelson Powers
From Life Brian Hooker
The Rose of the World William Butler Yeats
Dawn of Womanhood Harold Monro
The Shepherdess Alice Meynell
A Portrait Brian Hooker
The Wife Theodosia Garrison
"Trusty, Dusky, Vivid, True" Robert Louis Stevenson
The Shrine Digby Mackworth Dolben
The Voice Norman Gale
Mother Theresa Helburn
Ad Matrem Julian Fane
C.L.M John Masefield
STEPPING WESTWARD
Stepping Westward William Wordsworth
A Farewell to Arms George Peele
The World Francis Bacon
"When That I Was and a
Little Tiny Boy" William Shakespeare
Of the Last Verses in the
Book Edmund Waller
A Lament Chidiock Tichborne
To-morrow John Collins
Late Wisdom George Crabbe
Youth and Age Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Old Man's Comforts Robert Southey
To Age Walter Savage Lander
Late Leaves Walter Savage Lander
Years Walter Savage Lander
The River of Life Thomas Campbell
"Long Time a Child" Hartley Coleridge
The World I am Passing
Through Lydia Maria Child
Terminus Ralph Waldo Emerson
Rabbi Ben Ezra Robert Browning
Human Life Audrey Thomas de Vere
Young and Old Charles Kingsley
The Isle of the Long Ago Benjamin Franklin Taylor
Growing Old Matthew Arnold
Past John Galsworthy
Twilight A. Mary F. Robinson
Youth and Age George Arnold
Forty Years On Edward Ernest Bowen
Dregs Ernest Dowson
The Paradox of Time Austin Dobson
Age William Winter
Omnia Sonmia Rosamund Marriott Watson
The Year's End Timothy Cole
An Old Man's Song Richard Le Gallienne
Songs of Seven Jean Ingelow
Auspex James Russell Lowell
LOOKING BACKWARD
The Retreat Henry Vaughan
A Superscription Dante Gabriel Rossetti
The Child in the Garden Henry Van Dyke
Castles in the Air Thomas Love Peacock
Sometimes Thomas S. Jones, Jr
The Little Ghosts Thomas S. Jones, Jr
My Other Me Grace Denio Litchfield
A Shadow Boat Arlo Bates
A Lad That is Gone Robert Louis Stevenson
Carcassonne John R. Thompson
Childhood John Banister Tabb
The Wastrel Reginald Wright Kauffman
Troia Fuit Reginald Wright Kauffman
Temple Garlands A. Mary F. Robinson
Time Long Past Percy Bysshe Shelley
"I Remember, I Remember" Thomas Hood
My Lost Youth Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Voice of the Western Wind" Edmund Clarence Stedman
"Langsyne, When Life Was
Bonnie" Alexander Anderson
The Shoogy-Shoo Winthrop Packard
Babylon Viola Taylor
The Road of Remembrance Lizette Woodworth Reese
The Triumph of Forgotten
Things Edith M. Thomas
In the Twilight James Russell Lowell
An Immorality Ezra Pound
Three Seasons Christina Georgina Rossetti
The Old Familiar Faces Charles Lamb
The Light of Other Days Thomas Moore
"Tears, Idle Tears" Alfred Tennyson
The Pet Name Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Threescore and Ten Richard Henry Stoddard
Rain on the Roof Coates Kinney
Alone by the Hearth George Arnold
The Old Man Dreams Oliver Wendell Holmes
The Garret William Makepeace Thackeray
Auld Lang Syne Robert Burns
Rock Me to Sleep Elizabeth Akers
The Bucket Samuel Woodworth
The Grape-Vine Swing William Gilmore Simms
The Old Swimmin'-Hole James Whitcomb Riley
Forty Years Ago Unknown
Ben Bolt Thomas Dunn English
"Break, Break, Break" Alfred Tennyson
PART II
POEMS OF LOVE
Eros Ralph Waldo Emerson
"NOW WHAT IS LOVE"
"Now What is Love" Walter Raleigh
Wooing Song, "Love is the
Blossom where there blows" Giles Fletcher
Rosalind's Madrigal, "Love
in My bosom" Thomas Lodge
Song, "Love is a sickness
full of woes" Samuel Daniel
Love's Perjuries William Shakespeare
Venus' Runaway Ben Jonson
What is Love John Fletcher
Love's Emblems John Fletcher
The Power of Love John Fletcher
Advice to a Lover Unknown
Love's Horoscope Richard Crashaw
"Ah, how Sweet it is to
Love" John Dryden
Song, "Love still has
something of the sea" Charles Sedley
The Vine James Thomson
Song, "Fain would I change
that Note" Unknown
Cupid Stung Thomas Moore
Cupid Drowned Leigh Hunt
Song, "Oh! say not woman's
love is bought" Isaac Pocock
"In the Days of Old" Thomas Love Peacock
Song, "How delicious is the
winning" Thomas Campbell
Stanzas, "Could love for
ever" George Gordon Byron
"They Speak o' Wiles" William Thom
"Love will Find Out the Way" Unknown
A Woman's Shortcomings Elizabeth Barrett Browning
"Love hath a Language" Helen Selina Sheridan
Song, "O, let the solid
ground" Alfred Tennyson
Amaturus William Johnson-Cory
The Surface and the Depths Lewis Morris
A Ballad of Dreamland Algernon Charles Swinburne
Endymion Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Fate Susan Marr Spalding
"Give all to Love" Ralph Waldo Emerson
"O, Love is not a Summer
Mood" Richard Watson Gilder
"When will Love Come" Pakenham Beatty
"Awake, My Heart" Robert Bridges
The Secret George Edward Woodberry
The Rose of Stars George Edward Woodberry
Song of Eros from "Agathon" George Edward Woodberry
Love is Strong Richard Burton
"Love once was like an April
Dawn" Robert Underwood Johnson
The Garden of Shadow Ernest Dowson
The Call Reginald Wright Kauffman
The Highway Louise Driscoll
Song, "Take it, love" Richard Le Gallienne
"Never Give all the Heart" William Butler Yeats
Song, "I came to the door of
the house of love" Alfred Noyes
"Child, Child" Sara Teasdale
Wisdom Ford Madox Hueffer
Epilogue from "Emblems of
Love" Lascelles Abercrombie
On Hampstead Heath Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
Once on a Time Kendall Banning
IN PRAISE OF HER
First Song from
"Astrophel and Stella" Philip Sidney
Silvia William Shakespeare
Cupid and Campaspe John Lyly
Apollo's Song from "Midas" John Lyly
"Fair is my Love for April's
in her Face" Robert Greene
Samela Robert Greene
Damelus' Song of His
Diaphenia Henry Constable
Madrigal, "My Love in her
attire doth show her wit" Unknown
On Chloris Walking in
the Snow William Strode
"There is a Lady Sweet
and Kind" Unknown
Cherry-Ripe Thomas Campion
Amarillis Thomas Campion
Elizabeth of Bohemia Henry Wotton
Her Triumph Ben Jonson
Of Phillis William Drummond
A Welcome William Browne
The Complete Lover William Browne
Rubies and Pearls Robert Herrick
Upon Julia's Clothes Robert Herrick
To Cynthia on Concealment
of her Beauty Francis Kynaston
Song, "Ask me no more where
Jove bestows" Thomas Carew
A Devout Lover Thomas Randolph
On a Girdle Edmund Waller
Castara William Habington
To Amarantha that She would
Dishevel her Hair Richard Lovelace
Chloe Divine Thomas D'Urfey
My Peggy Allan Ramsay
Song, "O ruddier than the
cherry" John Gay
"Tell me, my Heart, if this
be Love" George Lyttleton
The Fair Thief Charles Wyndham
Amoret Mark Akenside
Song, "The shape alone let
others Prize" Mark Akenside
Kate of Aberdeen John Cunningham
Song, "Who has robbed the
ocean cave" John Shaw
Chloe Robert Burns
"O Mally's Meek, Mally's
Sweet" Robert Burns
The Lover's Choice Thomas Bedingfield
Rondeau Redouble John Payne
"My Love She's but a
Lassie yet" James Hogg
Jessie, the Flower
o' Dunblane Robert Tannahill
Margaret and Dora Thomas Campbell
Dagonet's Canzonet Ernest Rhys
Stanzas for Music, "There be
none of Beauty's daughters" George Gordon Byron
"Flowers I would Bring" Aubrey Thomas de Vere
"It is not Beauty I Demand" George Darley
Song, "She is not fair to
outward view" Hartley Coleridge
Song, "A violet in her
lovely hair" Charles Swain
Eileen Aroon Gerald Griffin
Annie Laurie Unknown
To Helen Edgar Allan Poe
"A Voice by the Cedar Tree" Alfred Tennyson
Song, "Nay, but you, who do
not love her" Robert Browning
The Henchman John Green1eaf Whittier
Lovely Mary Donnelly William Allingham
Love in the Valley George Meredith
Marian George Meredith
Praise of My Lady William Morris
Madonna Mia Algernon Charles Swinburne
"Meet we no Angels, Pansie" Thomas Ashe
To Daphne Walter Besant
"Girl of the Red Mouth" Martin MacDermott
The Daughter of Mendoza Mirabeau Bonaparte Lamar
"If She be made of White
and Red" Herbert P. Horne
The Lover's Song Edward Rowland Sill
"When First I Saw Her" George Edward Woodberry
My April Lady Henry Van Dyke
The Milkmaid Austin Dobson
Song, "This peach is pink
with such a pink" Norman Gale
In February Henry Simpson
"Love, I Marvel What You
Are" Trumbull Stickney
Ballade of My Lady's Beauty Joyce Kilmer
Ursula Robert Underwood Johnson
Villanelle of His Lady's
Treasures Ernest Dowson
Song, "Love, by that
loosened hair" Bliss Carman
Song, "O, like a queen's her
happy tread" William Watson
Any Lover, Any Lass Richard Middleton
Songs Ascending Witter Bynner
Song, "'Oh! Love,' they
said, 'is King of Kings'" Rupert Brooke
Song, "How do I love you" Irene Rutherford McLeod
To.... In Church Alan Seeger
After Two Years Richard Aldington
Praise Seumas O'Sullivan
PLAINTS AND PROTESTATIONS
"Forget not Yet" Thomas Wyatt
Fawnia Robert Greene
The Passionate Shepherd to
His Love Christopher Marlowe
The Nymph's Reply to the
Passionate Shepherd Walter Raleigh
"Wrong not, Sweet Empress
of My Heart" Walter Raleigh
To His Coy Love Michael Drayton
Her Sacred Bower Thomas Campion
To Lesbia Thomas Campion
"Love me or Not" Thomas Campion
"There is None, O None but
You" Thomas Campion
Of Corinna's Singing Thomas Campion
"Were my Heart as some
Men's are" Thomas Campion
"Kind are her Answers" Thomas Campion
To Celia Ben Jonson
Song, "O, do not wanton
with those eyes" Ben Jonson
Song, "Go and catch a
falling star" John Donne
The Message John Donne
Song, "Ladies, though to
your conquering eyes" George Etherege
To a Lady Asking Him how
Long He would Love Her" George Etherege
To Aenone Robert Herrick
To Anthea, who may Command
him Anything Robert Herrick
The Bracelet: To Julia Robert Herrick
To the Western Wind Robert Herrick
To my Inconstant Mistress Thomas Carew
Persuasions to Enjoy Thomas Carew
Mediocrity in Love Rejected Thomas Carew
The Message Thomas Heywood
"How Can the Heart forget
Her" Francis Davison
To Roses in the Bosom of
Castara William Habington
To Flavia Edmund Waller
"Love not Me for Comely
Grace" Unknown
"When, Dearest, I but Think
of Thee" Suckling or Felltham
A Doubt of Martyrdom John Suckling
To Chloe William Cartwright
I'll Never Love Thee More James Graham
To Althea, from Prison Richard Lovelace
Why I Love Her Alexander Brome
To his Coy Mistress Andrew Marvell
A Deposition from Beauty Thomas Stanley
"Love in thy Youth, Fair
Maid" Unknown
To Celia Charles Cotton
To Celia Charles Sedley
A Song, "My dear mistress
Has a Heart" John Wilmot
Love and Life John Wilmot
Constancy John Wilmot
Song, "Too late, alas, I
must Confess" John Wilmot
Song, "Come, Celia, let's
agree at last" John Sheffield
The Enchantment Thomas Otway
Song, "Only tell her that I
love" John Cutts
"False though She be" William Congreve
To Silvia Anne Finch
"Why, Lovely Charmer" Unknown
Against Indifference Charles Webbe
A Song to Amoret Henry Vaughan
The Lass of Richmond Hill James Upton
Song, "Let my voice ring out
and over the earth" James Thomson
Gifts James Thomson
Amynta Gilbert Elliot
"O Nancy! wilt Thou go
with Me" Thomas Percy
Cavalier's Song Robert Cunninghame-Graham
"My Heart is a Lute" Anne Barnard
Song, "Had I a heart for
falsehood framed" Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Meeting George Crabbe
"O Were my Love you Lilac
Fair" Robert Burns
"Bonnie Wee Thing" Robert Burns
Rose Aylmer Walter Savage Landor
"Take back the Virgin Page" Thomas Moore
"Believe me, if all Those
Endearing Young Charms" Thomas Moore
The Nun Leigh Hunt
Only of Thee and Me Louis Untermeyer
To-- Percy Bysshe Shelley
From the Arabic Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Wandering Knight's Song John Gibson Lockhart
Song, "Love's on the
highroad" Dana Burnett
The Secret Love A. E.
The Flower of Beauty George Darley
My Share of the World Alice Furlong
Song, "A lake and a fairy
boat" Thomas Hood
"Smile and Never Heed Me" Charles Swain
Are They not all Ministering
Spirits Robert Stephen Hawker
Maiden Eyes Gerald Griffin
Hallowed Places Alice Freeman Palmer
The Lady's "Yes" Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Song, "It is the miller's
daughter" Alfred Tennyson
Lilian Alfred Tennyson
Bugle Song, from "The
Princess" Alfred Tennyson
Ronsard to His Mistress William Makepeace Thackeray
"When You are Old" William Butler Yeats
Song, "You'll love me yet,
and I can tarry" Robert Browning
Love in a Life Robert Browning
Life in a Love Robert Browning
The Welcome Thomas Osborne Davis
Urania Matthew Arnold
Three Shadows Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Since we Parted Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton
A Match Algernon Charles Swinburne
A Ballad of Life Algernon Charles Swinburne
A Leave-Taking Algernon Charles Swinburne
A Lyric Algernon Charles Swinburne
Maureen John Todhunter
A Love Symphony Arthur O'Shaughnessy
Love on the Mountain Thomas Boyd
Kate Temple's Song Mortimer Collins
My Queen Unknown
"Darling, Tell me Yes" John Godfrey Saxe
"Do I Love Thee" John Godfrey Saxe
"O World, be Nobler" Laurence Binyon
"In the Dark, in the Dew" Mary Newmarch Prescott
Nanny Francis Davis
A Trifle Henry Timrod
Romance Robert Louis Stevenson
"Or Ever the Knightly Years
were Gone" William Ernest Henley
Rus in Urbe Clement Scott
My Road Oliver Opdyke
A White Rose John Boyle O'Reilly
"Some Day of Days" Nora Perry
The Telephone Robert Frost
Where Love is Amelia Josephine Burr
That Day You Came Lizette Woodworth Reese
Amantium Irae Ernest Dowson
In a Rose Garden John Bennett
"God Bless You, Dear,
To-day" John Bennett
To-day Benjamin R. C. Low
To Arcady Charles Buxton Going
Wild Wishes Ethel M. Hewitt
"Because of You" Sophia Almon Hensley
Then Rose Terry Cooke
The Missive Edmund Gosse
Plymouth Harbor Mrs. Ernest Radford
The Serf's Secret William Vaughn Moody
"O, Inexpressible as Sweet" George Edward Woodberry
The Cyclamen Arlo Bates
The West-Country Lover Alice Brown
"Be Ye in Love with
April-Tide" Clinton Scollard
Unity Alfred Noyes
The Queen William Winter
A Lover's Envy Henry Van Dyke
Star Song Robert Underwood Johnson
"My Heart Shall be Thy
Garden" Alice Meynell
At Night Alice Meynell
Song, "Song is so old" Hermann Hagedorn
"All Last Night" Lascelles Abercrombie
The Last Word Frederic Lawrence Knowles
"Heart of my Heart" Unknown
My Laddie Amelie Rives
The Shaded Pool Norman Gale
Good-Night S. Weir Mitchell
The Mystic Witter Bynner
"I Am the Wind" Zoe Akins
"I Love my Life, But not Too
Well" Harriet Monroe
"This is my Love for You" Grace Fallow Norton
MY LADY'S LIPS
Lips and Eyes Thomas Middleton
The Kiss Ben Jonson
"Take, O Take Those
Lips Away" John Fletcher
A Stolen Kiss George Wither
Song, "My Love bound me
with a kiss" Unknown
To Electra Robert Herrick
"Come, Chloe, and Give Me
Sweet Kisses" Charles Hanbury Williams
A Riddle William Cowper
To a Kiss John Wolcot
Song, "Often I have heard
it said" Walter Savage Landor
The First Kiss of Love George Gordon Byron
"Jenny Kissed Me" Leigh Hunt
"I Fear Thy Kisses, Gentle
Maiden" Percy Bysshe Shelley
Love's Philosophy Percy Bysshe Shelley
Song, "The moth's kiss,
first" Robert Browning
Summum Bonum Robert Browning
The First Kiss Theodore Watts-Dunton
To My Love John Godfrey Saxe
To Lesbia John Godfrey Saxe
Make Believe Alice Cary
Kissing's No Sin Unknown
To Anne William Maxwell
Song, "There is many a love
in the land, my love" Joaquin Miller
Phyllis and Corydon Arthur Colton
AT HER WINDOW
"Hark, Hark, the Lark" William Shakespeare
"Sleep, Angry Beauty" Thomas Campion
Matin Song Nathaniel Field
The Night-Piece: To Julia Robert Herrick
Morning William D'Avenant
Matin Song Thomas Heywood
The Rose Richard Lovelace
Song, "See, see, she wakes!
Sabina wakes" William Congreve
Mary Morison Robert Burns
Wake, Lady Joanna Baillie
The Sleeping Beauty Samuel Rogers
"The Young May Moon" Thomas Moore
"Row Gently Here" Thomas Moore
Morning Serenade Madison Cawein
Serenade Aubrey Thomas De Vere
Lines to an Indian Air Percy Bysshe Shelley
Good-Night Percy Bysshe Shelley
Serenade George Darley
Serenade Thomas Hood
Serenade Edward Coote Pinkney
Serenade Henry Timrod
Serenade Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"Come into the Garden, Maud" Alfred Tennyson
At Her Window Frederick Locker-Lampson
Bedouin Song Bayard Taylor
Night and Love Edward George Earle Bulwer-Lytton
Nocturne Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Palabras Carinosas Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Serenade Oscar Wilde
The Little Red Lark Alfred Perceval Graves
Serenade Richard Middleton
THE COMEDY OF LOVE
A Lover's Lullaby George Gascoigne
Phillida and Corydon Nicholas Breton
"Crabbed Age and Youth" William Shakespeare
"It Was a Lover and His
Lass" William Shakespeare
"I Loved a Lass" George Wither
To Chloris Charles Sedley
Song, "The merchant, to
secure his Treasure" Matthew Prior
Pious Selinda William Congreve
Fair Hebe John West
A Maiden's Ideal of a
Husband Henry Carey
"Phillada Flouts Me" Unknown
"When Molly Smiles" Unknown
Contentions Unknown
"I Asked My Fair, One Happy
Day" Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Exchange Samuel Taylor Coleridge
"Comin' Through the Rye" Robert Burns
"Green Grow the Rashes, O" Robert Burns
Defiance Walter Savage Landor
Of Clementina Walter Savage Landor
"The Time I've Lost in
Wooing" Thomas Moore
Dear Fanny Thomas Moore
A Certain Young Lady Washington Irving
"Where Be You Going, You
Devon Maid" John Keats
Love in a Cottage Nathaniel Parker Willis
Song of the Milkmaid from
"Queen Mary" Alfred Tennyson
"Wouldn't You Like to Know" John Godfrey Saxe
"Sing Heigh-ho" Charles Kingsley
The Golden Fish George Arnold
The Courtin' James Russell Lowell
L'Eau Dormante Thomas Bailey Aldrich
A Primrose Dame Gleeson White
If James Jeffrey Roche
Don't James Jeffrey Roche
An Irish Love-Song Robert Underwood Johnson
Growing Old Walter Learned
Time's Revenge Walter Learned
In Explanation Walter Learned
Omnia Vincit Alfred Cochrane
A Pastoral Norman Gale
A Rose Arlo Bates
"Wooed and Married and A'" Alexander Ross
"Owre the Moor Amang the
Heather" Jean Glover
Marriage and the Care O't Robert Lochore
The Women Folk James Hogg
"Love is Like a Dizziness" James Hogg
"Behave Yoursel' before
Folk" Alexander Rodger
Rory O'More; or, Good Omens Samuel Lover
Ask and Have Samuel Lover
Kitty of Coleraine Charles Dawson Shanly
The Plaidie Charles Sibley
Kitty Neil John Francis Waller
"The Dule's i' this Bonnet
o' Mine" Edwin Waugh
The Ould Plaid Shawl Francis A. Fahy
Little Mary Cassidy Francis A. Fahy
The Road Patrick R. Chalmers
Twickenham Ferry Theophile Marzials
THE HUMOR OF LOVE
Song, "I prithee send me
back my Heart" John Suckling
A Ballad Upon a Wedding John Suckling
To Chloe Jealous Matthew Prior
Jack and Joan Thomas Campion
Phillis and Corydon Richard Greene
Sally in Our Alley Henry Carey
The Country Wedding Unknown
"O Merry may the Maid be" John Clerk
The Lass o' Gowrie Carolina Nairne
The Constant Swain and
Virtuous Maid Unknown
When the Kye Comes Hame James Hogg
The Low-Backed Car Samuel Lover
The Pretty Girl of Loch Dan Samuel Ferguson
Muckle-Mouth Meg Robert Browning
Muckle-Mou'd Meg James Ballantine
Glenlogie Unknown
Lochinvar Walter Scott
Jock of Hazeldean Walter Scott
Candor Henry Cuyler Bunner
"Do you Remember" Thomas Haynes Bayly
Because Edward Fitzgerald
Love and Age Thomas Love Peacock
To Helen Winthrop Mackworth Praed
At the Church Gate William Makepeace Thackeray
Mabel, in New Hampshire James Thomas Fields
Toujours Amour Edmund Clarence Stedman
The Doorstep Edmund Clarence Stedman
The White Flag John Hay
A Song of the Four Seasons Austin Dobson
The Love-Knot Nora Perry
Riding Down Nora Perry
"Forgettin'" Moira O'Neill
"Across the Fields to Anne" Richard Burton
Pamela in Town Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz
Yes? Henry Cuyler Bunner
The Prime of Life Walter Learned
Thoughts on the Commandments George Augustus Baker
THE IRONY OF LOVE
"Sigh no More, Ladies" William Shakespeare
A Renunciation Edward Vere
A Song, "Ye happy swains,
whose hearts are free" George Etherege
To His Forsaken Mistress Robert Ayton
To an Inconstant Robert Ayton
Advice to a Girl Thomas Campion
Song, "Follow a shadow, it
still flies you" Ben Jonson
True Beauty Francis Beaumont
The Indifferent Francis Beaumont
The Lover's Resolution George Wither
His Further Resolution Unknown
Song, "Shall I tell you whom
I love" William Browne
To Dianeme Robert Herrick
Ingrateful Beauty Threatened Thomas Carew
Disdain Returned Thomas Carew
"Love Who Will, for I'll
Love None" William Browne
Valerius on Women Thomas Heywood
Dispraise of Love, and
Lovers' Follies Francis Davison
The Constant Lover John Suckling
Song, "Why so pale and wan,
fond Lover" John Suckling
Wishes to His Supposed
Mistress Richard Crashaw
Song, "Love in fantastic
Triumph sate" Aphra Behn
Les Amours Charles Cotton
Rivals William Walsh
I Lately Vowed, but 'Twas
in Haste John Oldmixon
The Touchstone Samuel Bishop
Air, "I ne'er could any
luster see" Richard Brinsley Sheridan
"I Took a Hansom on Today" William Ernest Henley
Da Capo Henry Cuyler Bunner
Song Against Women Willard Huntington Wright
Song of Thyrsis Philip Freneau
The Test Walter Savage Landor
"The Fault is not Mine" Walter Savage Landor
The Snake Thomas Moore
"When I Loved You" Thomas Moore
A Temple to Friendship Thomas Moore
The Glove and the Lions Leigh Hunt
To Woman George Gordon Byron
Love's Spite Aubrey Thomas de Vere
Lady Clara Vere de Vere Alfred Tennyson
Shadows Richard Monckton Milnes
Sorrows of Werther William Makepeace Thackeray
The Age of Wisdom William Makepeace Thackeray
Andrea del Sarto Robert Browning
My Last Duchess Robert Browning
Adam, Lilith, and Eve Robert Browning
The Lost Mistress Robert Browning
Friend and Lover Mary Ainge de Vere
Lost Love Andrew Lang
Vobiscum est Iope Thomas Campion
Four Winds Sara Teasdale
To Marion Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Crowned Amy Lowell
Hebe James Russell Lowell
"Justine, You Love me Not" John Godfrey Saxe
Snowdrop William Wetmore Story
When the Sultan Goes to
Ispahan Thomas Bailey Aldrich
The Shadow Dance Louise Chandler Moulton
"Along the Field as we
Came by" Alfred Edward Housman
"When I was One-and-Twenty" Alfred Edward Housman
"Grieve Not, Ladies" Anna Hempstead Branch
Suburb Harold Monro
The Betrothed Rudyard Kipling
LOVE'S SADNESS
"The Night has a Thousand
Eyes" Francis William Bourdillon
"I Saw my Lady Weep" Unknown
Love's Young Dream Thomas Moore
"Not Ours the Vows" Bernard Barton
The Grave of Love Thomas Love Peacock
"We'll go no More a Roving" George Gordon Byron
Song, "Sing the old song,
amid the sounds dispersing" Aubrey Thomas de Vere
The Question Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Wanderer Austin Dobson
Egyptian Serenade George William Curtis
The Water Lady Thomas Hood
"Tripping Down the
Field-path" Charles Swain
Love Not Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
"A Place in Thy Memory" Gerald Griffin
Inclusions Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Mariana Alfred Tennyson
Ask Me no More Alfred Tennyson
A Woman's Last Word Robert Browning
The Last Ride Together Robert Browning
Youth and Art Robert Browning
Two in the Campagna Robert Browning
One Way of Love Robert Browning
"Never the Time and the
Place" Robert Browning
Song, "Oh! that we two were
Maying" Charles Kingsley
For He Had Great Possessions Richard Middleton
Windle-straws Edward Dowden
Jessie Thomas Edward Brown
The Chess-board Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton
Aux Italiens Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton
Song, "I saw the day's
white rapture" Charles Hanson Towne
The Lonely Road Kenneth Rand
Evensong Ridgely Torrence
The Nymph's Song to Hylas William Morris
No and Yes Thomas Ashe
Love in Dreams John Addington Symonds
"A Little While I fain would
Linger Yet" Paul Hamilton Hayne
Song, "I made another
garden, yea" Arthur O'Shaughnessy
Song, "Has summer come
without the rose" Arthur O'Shaughnessy
After Philip Bourke Marston
After Summer Philip Bourke Marston
Rococo Algernon Charles Swinburne
Rondel Algernon Charles Swinburne
The Oblation Algernon Charles Swinburne
The Song of the Bower Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Song, "We break the glass,
whose sacred wine" Edward Coote Pinkney
Maud Muller John Greenleaf Whittier
La Grisette Oliver Wendell Holmes
The Dark Man Nora Hopper
Eurydice Francis William Bourdillon
A Woman's Thought Richard Watson Gilder
Laus Veneris Louise Chandler Moulton
Adonais Will Wallace Harney
Face to Face Frances Cochrane
Ashore Laurence Hope
Khristna and His Flute Laurence Hope
Impenitentia Ultima Ernest Dowson
Non Sum Quails Eram Bonae
sub Regno Cynarae Ernest Dowson
Quid non Speremus, Amantes? Ernest Dowson
"So Sweet Love Seemed" Robert Bridges
An Old Tune Andrew Lang
Refuge William Winter
Midsummer Ella Wheeler Wilcox
Ashes of Roses Elaine Goodale
Sympathy Althea Gyles
The Look Sara Teasdale
"When My Beloved Sleeping
Lies" Irene Rutherford McLeod
Love and Life Julie Mathilde Lippman
Love's Prisoner Mariana Griswold Van Rensselaer
Rosies Agnes I. Hanrahan
At the Comedy Arthur Stringer
"Sometime It may Be" Arthur Colton
"I heard a Soldier" Herbert Trench
The Last Memory Arthur Symonds
"Down by the Salley Gardens" William Butler Yates
Ashes of Life Edna St. Vincent Millay
A Farewell Alice Brown
THE PARTED LOVERS
Song, "O mistress mine,
where are you roaming" William Shakespeare
"Go, Lovely Rose" Edmund Waller
To the Rose: A Song Robert Herrick
Memory William Browne
To Lucasta, Going to the
Wars Richard Lovelace
To Lucasta, Going beyond
the Seas Richard Lovelace
Song to a Fair Young Lady,
Going out of the Town in
the Spring John Dryden
Song, "To all you ladies now
at land" Charles Sackville
Song, "In vain you tell your
parting lover" Matthew Prior
Black-Eyed Susan John Gay
Irish Molly O Unknown
Song, "At setting day and
rising morn" Allan Ramsay
Lochaber no More Allan Ramsey
Willie and Helen Hew Ainslie
Absence Richard Jago
"My Mother Bids me Bind
my Hair" Anne Hunter
"Blow High! Blow Low" Charles Dibdin
The Siller Croun Susanna Blamire
"My Nannie's Awa" Robert Burns
"Ae Fond Kiss" Robert Burns
"The Day Returns" Robert Burns
My Bonnie Mary Robert Burns
A Red, Red Rose Robert Burns
I Love My Jean Robert Burns and John Hamilton
The Rover's Adieu, from
"Rokeby" Walter Scott
"Loudoun's Bonnie Woods and
Braes" Robert Tannahill
"Fare Thee Well" George Gordon Byron
"Maid of Athens, Ere We
Part" George Gordon Byron
"When We Two Parted" George Gordon Byron
"Go, Forget Me" Charles Wolfe
Last Night George Darley
Adieu Thomas Carlyle
Jeanie Morrison William Motherwell
The Sea-lands Orrick Johns
Fair Ines Thomas Hood
A Valediction Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Farewell John Addington Symonds
"I Do Not Love Thee" Caroline Elizabeth Sarah Norton
The Palm-tree and the Pine Richard Monckton Milnes
"O Swallow, Swallow Flying
South" Alfred Tennyson
The Flower's Name Robert Browning
To Marguerite Matthew Arnold
Separation Matthew Arnold
Longing Matthew Arnold
Divided Jean Ingelow
My Playmate John Greenleaf Whittier
A Farewell Coventry Patmore
Departure Coventry Patmore
A song of Parting H. C. Compton Mackenzie
Song, "Fair is the night,
and fair the day" William Morris
At Parting Algernon Charles Swinburne
"If She But Knew" Arthur O'Shaughnessy
Kathleen Mavourneen Louisa Macartney Crawford
Robin Adair Caroline Keppel
"If You Were Here" Philip Bourke Marston
"Come to Me, Dearest" Joseph Brenan
Song, "'Tis said that
absence Conquers love" Frederick William Thomas
Parting Gerald Massey
The Parting Hour Olive Custance
A Song of Autumn Rennell Rodd
The Girl I Left Behind Me Unknown
"When We are Parted" Hamilton Aide
Remember or Forget Hamilton Aide
Nancy Dawson Herbert P. Horne
My Little Love Charles B. Hawley
For Ever William Caldwell Roscoe
Auf Wiedersehen James Russell Lowell
"Forever and a Day" Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Old Gardens Arthur Upson
Ferry Hinksey Laurence Binyon
Wearyin' fer You Frank L. Stanton
The Lovers of Marchaid Marjorie L. C. Pickthall
Song, "She's somewhere in
the sunlight strong" Richard Le Gallienne
The Lover Thinks of His Lady
in the North Shaemas O Sheel
Chanson de Rosemonde Richard Hovey
Ad Domnulam Suam Ernest Dawson
Marian Drury Bliss Carman
Love's Rosary Alfred Noyes
When She Comes Home James Whitcomb Riley
THE TRAGEDY OF LOVE
Song, "My silks and fine
array" William Blake
The Flight of Love Percy Bysshe Shelley
"Farewell! If ever Fondest
Prayer" George Gordon Byron
Porphyria's Lover Robert Browning
Modern Beauty Arthur Symons
La Belle Dame Sans Merci John Keats
Tantalus--Texas Joaquin Miller
Enchainment Arthur O'Shaughnessy
Auld Robin Gray Anne Barnard
Lost Light Elizabeth Akers
A Sigh Harriet Prescott Spofford
Hereafter Harriet Prescott Spofford
Endymion Oscar Wilde
"Love is a Terrible Thing" Grace Fallow Norton
The Ballad of the Angel Theodosia Garrison
"Love Came Back at Fall
o' Dew" Lizette Woodworth Reese
I Shall not Care Sara Teasdale
Outgrown Julia C. R. Dorr
A Tragedy Edith Nesbit
Left Behind Elizabeth Akers
The Forsaken Merman Matthew Arnold
The Portrait Edward Robert Bulwer Lytton
The Rose and Thorn Paul Hamilton Hayne
To Her--Unspoken Amelia Josephine Burr
A Light Woman Robert Browning
From the Turkish George Gordon Byron
A Summer Wooing Louise Chandler Moulton
Butterflies John Davidson
Unseen Spirits Nathaniel Parker Willis
"Grandmither, Think Not I
Forget" Willa Sibert Cather
Little Wild Baby Margaret Thomson Janvier
A Cradle Song Nicholas Breton
Lady Anne Bothwell's Lament Unknown
A Woman's Love John Hay
A Tragedy Theophile Marzials
"Mother, I Cannot Mind My
Wheel" Walter Savage Landor
Airly Beacon Charles Kingsley
A Sea Child Bliss Carman
From the Harbor Hill Gustav Kobbe
Allan Water Matthew Gregory Lewis
Forsaken Unknown
Bonnie Doon Robert Burns
The Two Lovers Richard Hovey
The Vampire Rudyard Kipling
Agatha Alfred Austin
"A Rose Will Fade" Dora Sigerson Shorter
Affaire d'Amour Margaret Deland
A Casual Song Roden Noel
The Way of It John Vance Cheney
"When Lovely Woman Stoops
to Folly" Oliver Goldsmith
Folk-Song Louis Untermeyer
A Very Old Song William Laird
"She Was Young and Blithe
and Fair" Harold Monro
The Lass that Died of Love Richard Middleton
The Passion-Flower Margaret Fuller
Norah Zoe Akins
Of Joan's Youth Louise Imogen Guiney
There's Wisdom in Women Rupert Brooke
Goethe and Frederika Henry Sidgwick
The Song of the King's
Minstrel Richard Middleton
Annie Shore and Johnnie Doon Patrick Orr
Emmy Arthur Symons
The Ballad of Camden Town James Elroy Flecker
LOVE AND DEATH
Helen of Kirconnell Unknown
Willy Drowned in Yarrow Unknown
Annan Water Unknown
The Lament of the Border
Widow Unknown
Aspatia's Song from "The
Maid's Tragedy" John Fletcher
A Ballad, "'Twas when the
seas were roaring" John Gay
The Braes of Yarrow John Logan
The Churchyard on the Sands Lord de Tabley
The Minstrel's Song
from "Aella" Thomas Chatterton
Highland Mary Robert Burns
To Mary in Heaven Robert Burns
Lucy William Wordsworth
Proud Maisie Walter Scott
Song, "Earl March looked on
His dying child" Thomas Campbell
The Maid's Lament Walter Savage Landor
"She is Far from the Land" Thomas Moore
"At the Mid Hour of Night" Thomas Moore
On a Picture by Poussin John Addington Symonds
Threnody Ruth Guthrie Harding
Strong as Death Henry Cuyler Banner
"I Shall not Cry Return" Ellen M. H. Gates
"Oh! Snatched away in
Beauty's Bloom" George Gordon Byron
To Mary Charles Wolfe
My Heart and I Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Rosalind's Scroll Elizabeth Barrett Browning
Lament of the Irish Emigrant Helen Selina Sheridan
The King of Denmark's Ride Caroline E. S. Norton
The Watcher James Stephens
The Three Sisters Arthur Davison Ficke
Ballad May Kendall
"O that 'Twere Possible" Alfred Tennyson
"Home They Brought Her
Warrior Dead" Alfred Tennyson
Evelyn Hope Robert Browning
Remembrance Emily Bronte
Song,"The linnet in the
rocky dells" Emily Bronte
Song of the Old Love Jean Ingelow
Requiescat Matthew Arnold
Too Late Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Four Years Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Barbara Alexander Smith
Song, "When I am dead, my
dearest" Christina Georgina Rossetti
Sarrazine's Song to Her
Dead Lover Arthur O'Shaughnessy
Love and Death Rosa Mulholland
To One in Paradise Edgar Allan Poe
Annabel Lee Edgar Allan Poe
For Annie Edgar Allan Poe
Telling the Bees John Greenleaf Whittier
A Tryst Louise Chandler Moulton
Love's Resurrection Day Louise Chandler Moulton
Heaven Martha Gilbert Dickinson
Janette's Hair Charles Graham Halpine
The Dying Lover Richard Henry Stoddard
"When the Grass Shall
Cover Me" Ina Coolbrith
Give Love Today Ethel Talbot
Until Death Elizabeth Akers
Florence Vane Phillip Pendleton Cooke
"If Spirits Walk" Sophie Jewett
Requiescat Oscar Wilde
Lyric, "You would have
understood me, had you
waited" Ernest Dowson
Romance Andrew Lang
Good-Night Hester A. Benedict
Requiescat Rosamund Marriott Watson
The Four Winds Charles Henry Luders
The King's Ballad Joyce Kilmer
Heliotrope Harry Thurston Peck
"Lydia is Gone this Many
a Year" Lizette Woodworth Reese
After Lizette Woodworth Reese
Memories Arthur Stringer
To Diane Helen Hay Whitney
"Music I Heard" Conrad Aiken
Her Dwelling-place Ada Foster Murray
The Wife from Fairyland Richard Le Gallienne
In the Fall o' Year Thomas S. Jones, Jr
The Invisible Bride Edwin Markham
Rain on a Grave Thomas Hardy
Patterns Amy Lowell
Dust Rupert Brooke
Ballad, "The roses in my
garden" Maurice Baring
"The Little Rose is Dust,
My Dear" Grace Hazard Conkling
Dirge Adelaide Crapsey
The Little Red Ribbon James Whitcomb Riley
The Rosary Robert Cameron Rogers
LOVE'S FULFILLMENT
"My True-love Hath My Heart" Philip Sidney
Song, "O sweet delight" Thomas Campion
The Good-Morrow John Donne
"There's Gowd in the Breast" James Hogg
The Beggar Maid Alfred Tennyson
Refuge A.E.
At Sunset Louis V. Ledoux
"One Morning Oh! so Early" Jean Ingelow
Across the Door Padraic Colum
May Margaret Theophile Marzials
Rondel, "Kissing her hair,
I sat against her feet" Algernon Charles Swinburne
A Spring Journey Alice Freeman Palmer
The Brookside Richard Monckton Milnes
Song, "For me the jasmine
buds unfold" Florence Earle Coates
What My Lover Said Homer Greene
May-Music Rachel Annand Taylor
Song, "Flame at the core of
the World" Arthur Upson
A Memory Frederic Lawrence Knowles
Love Triumphant Frederic Lawrence Knowles
Lines, "Love within the
lover's breast" George Meredith
Love among the Ruins Robert Browning
Earl Mertoun's Song Robert Browning
Meeting at Night Robert Browning
Parting at Morning Robert Browning
The Turn of the Road Alice Rollit Coe
"My Delight and Thy Delight" Robert Bridges
"O, Saw Ye the Lass" Richard Ryan
Love at Sea Algernon Charles Swinburne
Mary Beaton's Song Algernon Charles Swinburne
Plighted Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
A Woman's Question Adelaide Anne Procter
"Dinna Ask Me" John Dunlop
A Song, "Sing me a sweet,
low song of night" Hildegarde Hawthorne
The Reason James Oppenheim
"My Own Cailin Donn" George Sigerson
Nocturne Amelia Josephine Burr
Surrender Amelia Josephine Burr
"By Yon Burn Side" Robert Tannahill
A Pastoral, "Flower of the
medlar" Theophile Marzials
"When Death to Either shall
Come" Robert Bridges
The Reconciliation Alfred Tennyson
Song, "Wait but a little
while" Norman Gale
Content Norman Gale
Che Sara Sara Victor Plarr
"Bid Adieu to Girlish Days" James Joyce
To F.C. Mortimer Collins
Spring Passion Joel Elias Spingarn
Advice to a Lover S. Charles Jellicoe
"Yes" Richard Doddridge Blackmore
Love Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Nested Habberton Lulham
The Letters Alfred Tennyson
Prothalamion Edmund Spenser
Epithalamion Edmund Spenser
The Kiss Sara Teasdale
Marriage Wilfrid Wilson Gibson
The Newly-wedded Winthrop Mackworth Praed
I Saw Two Clouds at Morning John Gardiner Calkins Brainard
Holy Matrimony John Keble
The Bride Laurence Hope
A Marriage Charm Nora Hopper
"Like a Laverock in the
Lift" Jean Ingelow
My Owen Ellen Mary Patrick Downing
Doris: A Pastoral Arthur Joseph Munby
"He'd Nothing but His
Violin" Mary Kyle Dallas
Love's Calendar William Bell Scott
Home Dora Greenwell
Two Lovers George Eliot
The Land of Heart's Desire Emily Huntington Miller
My Ain Wife Alexander Laing
The Irish Wife Thomas D'Arcy McGee
My Wife's a Winsome Wee
Thing Robert Burns
Lettice Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
"If Thou Wert by My Side,
My Love" Reginald Heber
The Shepherd's Wife's Song Robert Greene
"Truth doth Truth Deserve" Philip Sidney
The Married Lover Coventry Patmore
My Love James Russell Lowell
Margaret to Dolcino Charles Kingsley
Dolcino to Margaret Charles Kingsley
At Last Richard Henry Stoddard
The Wife to Her Husband Unknown
A Wife's Song William Cox Bennett
The Sailor's Wife William Julius Mickle
Jerry an' Me Hiram Rich
"Don't be Sorrowful,
Darling" Rembrandt Peale
Winifreda Unknown
An Old Man's Idyl Richard Realf
The Poet's Song to his Wife Bryan Waller Procter
John Anderson Robert Burns
To Mary Samuel Bishop
The Golden Wedding David Gray
Moggy and Me James Hogg
"O, Lay Thy Hand in Mine,
Dear" Gerald Massey
The Exequy Henry King
LOVE SONNETS
Sonnets from "Amoretti" Edmund Spenser
Sonnets from "Astrophel and
Stella" Philip Sidney
Sonnets from "To Delia" Samuel Daniel
Sonnets from "Idea" Michael Drayton
Sonnets from "Diana" Henry Constable
Sonnets William Shakespeare
"Alexis, Here She Stayed" William Drummond
"Were I as Base as is the
Lowly Plain" Joshua Sylvester
A Sonnet of the Moon Charles Best
To Mary Unwin William Cowper
"Why art Thou Silent" William Wordsworth
Sonnets from "The House
of Life" Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Sonnets Christina Georgina Rossetti
How My Songs of Her Began Philip Bourke Marston
At the Last Philip Bourke Marston
To One who Would Make a
Confession Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
The Pleasures of Love Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
"Were but my Spirit Loosed
upon the Air" Louise Chandler Moulton
Renouncement Alice Meynell
"My Love for Thee" Richard Watson Gilder
Sonnets after the Italian Richard Watson Gilder
Stanzas from "Modern Love" George Meredith
Love in the Winds Richard Hovey
"Oh, Death Will Find Me" Rupert Brooke
The Busy Heart Rupert Brooke
The Hill Rupert Brooke
Sonnets from "Sonnets to
Miranda" William Watson
Sonnets from "Thysia" Morton Luce
Sonnets from "Sonnets from
the Portuguese" Elizabeth Barrett Browning
One Word More Robert Browning
PART III
POEMS OF NATURE
"The World is too Much With
Us" William Wordsworth
MOTHER NATURE
The Book of the World William Drummond
Nature Jones Very
Compensation Celia Thaxter
The Last Hour Ethel Clifford
Nature Henry David Thoreau
Song of Nature Ralph Waldo Emerson
"Great Nature is an
Army Gay" Richard Watson Gilder
To Mother Nature Frederic Lawrence Knowles
Quiet Work Matthew Arnold
Nature Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
"As an Old Mercer" Mahlon Leonard Fisher
Good Company Karle Wilson Baker
"Here is the Place where
Loveliness Keeps House" Madison Cawein
God's World Edna St. Vincent Millay
Wild Honey Maurice Thompson
Patmos Edith M. Thomas
DAWN AND DARK
Song, "Phoebus, arise" William Drummond
Hymn of Apollo Percy Bysshe Shelley
Prelude to "The New Day" Richard Watson Gilder
Dawn on the Headland William Watson
The Miracle of the Dawn Madison Cawein
Dawn-angels A. Mary F. Robinson
Music of the Dawn Virginia Bioren Harrison
Sunrise on Mansfield
Mountain Alice Brown
Ode to Evening William Collins
"It is a Beauteous Evening
Calm and Free" William Wordsworth
Gloaming Robert Adger Bowen
Evening Melody Aubrey de Vere
In the Cool of the Evening Alfred Noyes
Twilight Olive Custance
Twilight at Sea Amelia C. Welby
"This is My Hour" Zoe Akins
Song to the Evening Star Thomas Campbell
The Evening Cloud John Wilson
Song: To Cynthia Ben Jonson
My Star Robert Browning
Night William Blake
To Night Percy Bysshe Shelly
To Night Joseph Blanco White
Night John Addington Symonds
Night James Montgomery
He Made the Night Lloyd Mifflin
Hymn to the Night Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Night's Mardi Gras Edward J. Wheeler
Dawn and Dark Norman Gale
Dawn George B. Logan, Jr
A Wood Song Ralph Hodgson
THE CHANGING YEAR
A Song for the Seasons Bryan Waller Procter
A Song of the Seasons Cosmo Monkhouse
Turn o' the Year Katherine Tynan
The Waking Year Emily Dickinson
Song, "The year's at the
spring" Robert Browning
Early Spring Alfred Tennyson
Lines Written in Early
Spring William Wordsworth
In Early Spring Alice Meynell
Spring Thomas Nashe
A Starling's Spring Rondel James Cousins
"When Daffodils begin to
Peer" William Shakespeare
Spring, from "In Memoriam" Alfred Tennyson
The Spring Returns Charles Leonard Moore
"When the Hounds of Spring" Algernon Charles Swinburne
Song, "Again rejoicing
Nature sees" Robert Burns
To Spring William Blake
An Ode on the Spring Thomas Gray
Spring Henry Timrod
The Meadows in Spring Edward Fitzgerald
The Spring William Barnes
"When Spring Comes Back to
England" Alfred Noyes
New Life Amelia Josephine Burr
"Over the Wintry Threshold" Bliss Carman
March William Morris
Song in March William Gilmore Simms
March Nora Hopper
Written in March William Wordsworth
The Passing of March Robert Burns Wilson
Home Thoughts, from Abroad Robert Browning
Song, "April, April" William Watson
An April Adoration Charles G. D. Roberts
Sweet Wild April William Force Stead
Spinning in April Josephine Preston Peabody
Song: On May Morning John Milton
A May Burden Francis Thompson
Corinna's Going a-Maying Robert Herrick
"Sister, Awake" Unknown
May Edward Hovell-Thurlow
May Henry Sylvester Cornwell
A Spring Lilt Unknown
Summer Longings Denis Florence MacCarthy
Midsummer John Townsend Trowbridge
A Midsummer Song Richard Watson Gilder
June, from "The Vision of
Sir Launfal" James Russell Lowell
June Harrison Smith Morris
Harvest Ellen Mackay Hutchinson Cortissoz
Scythe Song Andrew Lang
September George Arnold
Indian Summer Emily Dickinson
Prevision Ada Foster Murray
A Song of Early Autumn Richard Watson Gilder
To Autumn John Keats
Ode to Autumn Thomas Hood
Ode to the West Wind Percy Bysshe Shelley
Autumn: a Dirge Percy Bysshe Shelley
Autumn Emily Dickinson
"When the Frost is on the
Punkin" James Whitcomb Riley
Kore Frederic Manning
Old October Thomas Constable
November C. L. Cleaveland
November Mahlon Leonard Fisher
Storm Fear Robert Frost
Winter: a Dirge Robert Burns
Old Winter Thomas Noel
The Frost Hannah Flagg Gould
The Frosted Pane Charles G. D. Roberts
The Frost Spirit John Greenleaf Whittier
Snow Elizabeth Akers
To a Snowflake Francis Thompson
The Snow-Shower William Cullen Bryant
Midwinter John Townsend Trowbridge
A Glee for Winter Alfred Domett
The Death of the Old Year Alfred Tennyson
Dirge for the Year Percy Bysshe Shelley
WOOD AND FIELD AND RUNNING BROOK
Waldeinsamkeit Ralph Waldo Emerson
"When in the Woods I Wander
All Alone" Edward Hovell-Thurlow
Aspects of the Pines Paul Hamilton Hayne
Out in the Fields Unknown
Under the Leaves Albert Laighton
"On Wenlock Edge" Alfred Edward Housman
"What Do We Plant" Henry Abbey
The Tree Jones Very
The Brave Old Oak Henry Fothergill Chorley
"The Girt Woak Tree that's
in the Dell" William Barnes
To the Willow-tree Robert Herrick
Enchantment Madison Cawein
Trees Joyce Kilmer
The Holly-tree Robert Southey
The Pine Augusta Webster
"Woodman, Spare that Tree" George Pope Morris
The Beech Tree's Petition Thomas Campbell
The Poplar Field William Cowper
The Planting of the
Apple-Tree William Cullen Bryant
Of an Orchard Katherine Tynan
An Orchard at Avignon A. Mary F. Robinson
The Tide River Charles Kingsley
The Brook's Song Alfred Tennyson
Arethusa Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Cataract of Lodore Robert Southey
Song of the Chattahoochee Sidney Lanier
"Flow Gently, Sweet Afton" Robert Burns
Canadian Boat-Song Thomas Moore
The Marshes of Glynn Sidney Lanier
The Trosachs William Wordsworth
Hymn before Sunrise in the
Vale of Chamouni Samuel Taylor Coleridge
The Peaks Stephen Crane
Kinchinjunga Cale Young Rice
The Hills Julian Grenfell
Hemlock Mountain Sarah N. Cleghorn
Sunrise on Rydal Water John Drinkwater
The Deserted Pasture Bliss Carman
To Meadows Robert Herrick
The Cloud Percy Bysshe Shelley
April Rain Robert Loveman
Summer Invocation William Cox Bennett
April Rain Mathilde Blind
To the Rainbow Thomas Campbell
GREEN THINGS GROWING
My Garden Thomas Edward Brown
The Garden Andrew Marvell
A Garden Andrew Marvell
A Garden Song Austin Dobson
In Green Old Gardens Violet Fane
A Benedictine Garden Alice Brown
An Autumn Garden Bliss Carman
Unguarded Ada Foster Murray
The Deserted Garden Elizabeth Barrett Browning
A Forsaken Garden Algernon Charles Swinburne
Green Things Growing Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
A Chanted Calendar Sydney Dobell
Flowers Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Flowers Thomas Hood
A Contemplation Upon Flowers Henry King
Almond Blossom Edwin Arnold
White Azaleas Harriet McEwen Kimball
Buttercups Wilfrid Thorley
The Broom Flower Mary Howitt
The Small Celandine William Wordsworth
To the Small Celandine William Wordsworth
Four-leaf Clover Ella Higginson
Sweet Clover Wallace Rice
"I Wandered Lonely as a
Cloud" William Wordsworth
To Daffodils Robert Herrick
To a Mountain Daisy Robert Burns
A Field Flower James Montgomery
To Daisies, Not to Shut so
Soon Robert Herrick
Daisies Bliss Carman
To the Daisy William Wordsworth
To Daisies Francis Thompson
To the Dandelion James Russell Lowell
Dandelion Annie Rankin Annan
The Dandelions Helen Gray Cone
To the Fringed Gentian William Cullen Bryant
Goldenrod Elaine Goodale Eastman
Lessons from the Gorse Elizabeth Barrett Browning
The Voice of The Grass Sarah Roberts Boyle
A Song the Grass Sings Charles G. Blanden
The Wild Honeysuckle Philip Freneau
The Ivy Green Charles Dickens
Yellow Jessamine Constance Fenimore Woolson
Knapweed Arthur Christopher Benson
Moly Edith Matilda Thomas
The Morning-Glory Florence Earle Coates
The Mountain Heart's-Ease Bret Harte
The Primrose Robert Herrick
To Primroses filled with
Morning Dew Robert Herrick
To an Early Primrose Henry Kirke White
The Rhodora Ralph Waldo Emerson
The Rose William Browne
Wild Roses Edgar Fawcett
The Rose of May Mary Howitt
A Rose Richard Fanshawe
The Shamrock Maurice Francis Egan
To Violets Robert Herrick
The Violet William Wetmore Story
To a Wood-Violet John Banister Tabb
The Violet and the Rose Augusta Webster
To a Wind-Flower Madison Cawein
To Blossoms Robert Herrick
"'Tis the Last Rose of
Summer" Thomas Moore
The Death of the Flowers William Cullen Bryant
GOD'S CREATURES
Once on a Time Margaret Benson
To a Mouse Robert Burns
The Grasshopper Abraham Cowley
On the Grasshopper and
Cricket John Keats
To the Grasshopper and the
Cricket Leigh Hunt
The Cricket William Cowper
To a Cricket William Cox Bennett
To an Insect Oliver Wendell Holmes
The Snail William Cowper
The Housekeeper Charles Lamb
The Humble-Bee Ralph Waldo Emerson
To a Butterfly William Wordsworth
Ode to a Butterfly Thomas Wentworth Higginson
The Butterfly Alice Freeman Palmer
Fireflies Edgar Fawcett
The Blood Horse Bryan Waller Procter
Birds Moira O'Neill
Birds Richard Henry Stoddard
Sea-Birds Elizabeth Akers
The Little Beach Bird Richard Henry Dana
The Blackbird Frederick Tennyson
The Blackbird Alfred Edward Housman
The Blackbird William Ernest Henley
The Blackbird William Barnes
Robert of Lincoln William Cullen Bryant
The O'Lincon Family Wilson Flagg
The Bobolink Thomas Hill
My Catbird William Henry Venable
The Herald Crane Hamlin Garland
The Crow William Canton
To the Cuckoo John Logan
The Cuckoo Frederick Locker-Lampson
To the Cuckoo William Wordsworth
The Eagle Alfred Tennyson
The Hawkbit Charles G. D. Roberts
The Heron Edward Hovell-Thurlow
The Jackdaw William Cowper
The Green Linnet William Wordsworth
To the Man-of-War-Bird Walt Whitman
The Maryland Yellow-Throat Henry Van Dyke
Lament of a Mocking-bird Frances Anne Kemble
"O Nightingale! Thou
Surely Art" William Wordsworth
Philomel Richard Barnfield
Philomela Matthew Arnold
On a Nightingale in April William Sharp
To the Nightingale William Drummond
The Nightingale Mark Akenside
To the Nightingale John Milton
Philomela Philip Sidney
Ode to a Nightingale John Keats
Song, 'Tis sweet to hear the
merry lark Hartley Coleridge
Bird Song Laura E. Richards
The Song the Oriole Sings William Dean Howells
To an Oriole Edgar Fawcett
Song: the Owl Alfred Tennyson
"Sweet Suffolk Owl" Thomas Vautor
The Pewee John Townsend Trowbridge
Robin Redbreast George Washington Doane
Robin Redbreast William Allingham
The Sandpiper Celia Thaxter
The Sea-Mew Elizabeth Barrett Browning
To a Skylark William Wordsworth
To a Skylark William Wordsworth
The Skylark James Hogg
The Skylark Frederick Tennyson
To a Skylark Percy Bysshe Shelley
The Stormy Petrel Bryan Waller Procter
The First Swallow Charlotte Smith
To a Swallow Building Under
our Eaves Jane Welsh Carlyle
Chimney Swallows Horatio Nelson Powers
Itylus Algernon Charles Swinburne
The Throstle Alfred Tennyson
Overflow John Banister Tabb
Joy-Month David Atwood Wasson
My Thrush Mortimer Collins
"Blow Softly, Thrush" Joseph Russell Taylor
The Black Vulture George Sterling
Wild Geese Frederick Peterson
To a Waterfowl William Cullen Bryant
The Wood-Dove's Note Emily Huntington Miller
THE SEA
Song for all Seas, all Ships Walt Whitman
Stanzas from "The Triumph
of Time" Algernon Charles Swinburne
The Sea from "Childe
Harold's Pilgrimage" George Gordon Byron
On the Sea John Keats
"With Ships the Sea was
Sprinkled" William Wordsworth
A Song of Desire Frederic Lawrence Knowles
The Pines and the Sea Christopher Pearse Cranch
Sea Fever John Masefield
Hastings Mill C. Fox Smith
"A Wet Sheet and a Flowing
Sea" Allan Cunningham
The Sea Bryan Waller Procter
Sailor's Song from "Death's
Jest Book" Thomas Lovell Beddoes
"A Life on the Ocean Wave" Epes Sargent
Tacking Ship off Shore Walter Mitchell
In Our Boat Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
Poor Jack Charles Dibdin
"Rocked in the Cradle of the
Deep" Emma Hart Willard
Outward John G. Neihardt
A Passer-by Robert Bridges
Off Riviere du Loup Duncan Campbell Scott
Christmas at Sea Robert Louis Stevenson
The Port o' Heart's Desire John S. McGroarty
On the Quay John Joy Bell
The Forging of the Anchor Samuel Ferguson
Drifting Thomas Buchanan Read
"How's My Boy" Sydney Dobell
The Long White Seam Jean Ingelow
Storm Song Bayard Taylor
The Mariner's Dream William Dimond
The Inchcape Rock Robert Southey
The Sea Richard Henry Stoddard
The Sands of Dee Charles Kingsley
The Three Fishers Charles Kingsley
Ballad Harriet Prescott Spofford
The Northern Star Unknown
The Fisher's Widow Arthur Symons
Caller Herrin' Carolina Nairne
Hannah Binding Shoes Lucy Larcom
The Sailor William Allingham
The Burial of the Dane Henry Howard Brownell
Tom Bowling Charles Dibdin
Messmates Henry Newbolt
The Last Buccaneer Charles Kingsley
The Last Buccaneer Thomas Babington Macaulay
The Leadman's Song Charles Dibdin
Homeward Bound William Allingham
THE SIMPLE LIFE
The Lake Isle of Innisfree William Butler Yeats
A Wish Samuel Rogers
Ode on Solitude Alexander Pope
"Thrice Happy He" William Drummond
"Under the Greenwood Tree" William Shakespeare
Coridon's Song John Chalkhill
The Old Squire Wilfrid Scawen Blunt
Inscription in a Hermitage Thomas Warton
The Retirement Charles Cotton
The Country Faith Norman Gale
Truly Great William H. Davies
Early Morning at Bargis Hermann Hagedorn
The Cup John Townsend Trowbridge
A Strip of Blue Lucy Larcom
An Ode to Master Anthony
Stafford Thomas Randolph
"The Midges Dance Aboon the
Burn" Robert Tannahill
The Plow Richard Hengist Horne
The Useful Plow Unknown
"To One Who has Been Long in
City Pent" John Keats
The Quiet Life William Byrd
The Wish Abraham Cowley
Expostulation and Reply William Wordsworth
The Tables Turned William Wordsworth
Simple Nature George John Romanes
"I Fear no Power a Woman
Wields" Ernest McGaffey
A Runnable Stag John Davidson
Hunting Song Richard Hovey
"A-Hunting We Will Go" Henry Fielding
The Angler's Invitation Thomas Tod Stoddart
The Angler's Wish Izaak Walton
The Angler John Chalkhill
WANDERLUST
To Jane: the Invitation Percy Bysshe Shelley
"My Heart's in the
Highlands" Robert Burns
"Afar in the Desert" Thomas Pringle
Spring Song in the City Robert Buchanan
In City Streets Ada Smith
The Vagabond Robert Louis Stevenson
In the Highlands Robert Louis Stevenson
The Song my Paddle Sings E. Pauline Johnson
The Gipsy Trail Rudyard Kipling
Wanderlust Gerald Gould
The Footpath Way Katherine Tynan
A Maine Trail Gertrude Huntington McGiffert
Afoot Charles G. D. Roberts
From Romany to Rome Wallace Irwin
The Toil of the Trail Hamlin Garland
"Do You Fear the Wind?" Hamlin Garland
The King's Highway John S. McGroarty
The Forbidden Lure Fannie Stearns Davis
The Wander-Lovers Richard Hovey
The Sea-Gipsy Richard Hovey
A Vagabond Song Bliss Carman
Spring Song Bliss Carman
The Mendicants Bliss Carman
The Joys of the Road Bliss Carman
The Song of the Forest
Ranger Herbert Bashford
A Drover Padraic Colum
Ballad of Low-lie-down Madison Cawein
The Good Inn Herman Knickerbocker Viele
Night for Adventures Victor Starbuck
Song, "Something calls and
whispers" Georgiana Goddard King
The Voortrekker Rudyard Kipling
The Long Trail Rudyard Kipling
PART IV
FAMILIAR VERSE, AND POEMS HUMOROUS AND SATIRIC
Ballade of the Primitive Jest Andrew Lang
THE KINDLY MUSE
Time to be Wise Walter Savage Landor
Under the Lindens Walter Savage Landor
Advice Walter Savage Landor
To Fanny Thomas Moore
"I'd be a Butterfly" Thomas Haynes Bayly
"I'm not a Single Man" Thomas Hood
To ----- Winthrop Mackworth Praed
The Vicar Winthrop Mackworth Praed
The Belle of the Ball-room Winthrop Mackworth Praed
The Fine Old English
Gentleman Unknown
A Ternerie of Littles, upon
a Pipkin of Jelly Sent to
a Lady Robert Herrick
Chivalry at a Discount Edward Fitzgerald
The Ballad of Bouillabaisse William Makepeace Thackeray
To my Grandmother Frederick Locker-Lampson
My Mistress's Boots Frederick Locker-Lampson
A Garden Lyric Frederick Locker-Lampson
Mrs. Smith Frederick Locker-Lampson
The Skeleton in the Cupboard Frederick Locker-Lampson
A Terrible Infant Frederick Locker-Lampson
Companions Charles Stuart Calverley
Dorothy Q Oliver Wendell Holmes
My Aunt Oliver Wendell Holmes
The Last Leaf Oliver Wendell Holmes
Contentment Oliver Wendell Holmes
The Boys Oliver Wendell Holmes
The Jolly Old Pedagogue George Arnold
On an Intaglio Head of
Minerva Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Thalia Thomas Bailey Aldrich
Pan in Wall Street Edmund Clarence Stedman
Upon Lesbia--Arguing Alfred Cochrane
To Anthea, who May Command
Him Anything Alfred Cochrane
The Eight-Day Clock Alfred Cochrane
A Portrait Joseph Ashby-Sterry
"Old Books are Best" Beverly Chew
Impression Edmund Gosse
"With Strawberries" William Ernest Henley
Ballade of Ladies' Names William Ernest Henley
To a Pair of Egyptian
Slippers Edwin Arnold
Without and Within James Russell Lowell
"She was a Beauty" Henry Cuyler Bunner
Nell Gwynne's Looking-Glass Laman Blanchard
Mimnermus in Church William Johnson-Cory
Clay Edward Verrall Lucas
Aucassin and Nicolete Francis William Bourdillon
Aucassin and Nicolette Edmund Clarence Stedman
On the Hurry of This Time Austin Dobson
"Good-Night, Babette" Austin Dobson
A Dialogue from Plato Austin Dobson
The Ladies of St. James's Austin Dobson
The Cure's Progress Austin Dobson
A Gentleman of the Old
School Austin Dobson
On a Fan Austin Dobson
"When I Saw You Last, Rose" Austin Dobson
Urceus Exit Austin Dobson
A Corsage Bouquet Charles Henry Luders
Two Triolets Harrison Robertson
The Ballad of Dead Ladies Dante Gabriel Rossetti
Ballade of Dead Ladies Andrew Lang
A Ballad of Dead Ladies Justin Huntly McCarthy
If I Were King Justin Huntly McCarthy
A Ballade of Suicide Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Chiffons! William Samuel Johnson
The Court Historian Walter Thornbury
Miss Lou Walter de La Mare
The Poet and the Wood-louse Helen Parry Eden
Students Florence Wilkinson
"One, Two, Three" Henry Cuyler Bunner
The Chaperon Henry Cuyler Bunner
"A Pitcher of Mignonette" Henry Cuyler Bunner
Old King Cole Edwin Arlington Robinson
The Master Mariner George Sterling
A Rose to the Living Nixon Waterman
A Kiss Austin Dobson
Biftek aux Champignons Henry Augustin Beers
Evolution Langdon Smith
A Reasonable Affliction Matthew Prior
A Moral in Sevres Mildred Howells
On the Fly-leaf of a Book of
Old Plays Walter Learned
The Talented Man Winthrop Mackworth Praed
A Letter of Advice Winthrop Mackworth Praed
A Nice Correspondent Frederick Locker-Lampson
Her Letter Bret Harte
A Dead Letter Austin Dobson
The Nymph Complaining for
the Death of her Fawn Andrew Marvell
On the Death of a Favorite
Cat Drowned in a Tub of
Goldfishes Thomas Gray
Verses on a Cat Charles Daubeny
Epitaph on a Hare William Cowper
On the Death of Mrs.
Throckmorton's Bullfinch William Cowper
An Elegy on a Lap-Dog John Gay
My Last Terrier John Halsham
Geist's Grave Matthew Arnold
"Hold" Patrick R. Chalmers
THE BARB OF SATIRE
The Vicar of Bray Unknown
The Lost Leader Robert Browning
Ichabod John Greenleaf Whittier
What Mr. Robinson Thinks James Russell Lowell
The Debate in the Sennit James Russell Lowell
The Marquis of Carabas Robert Brough
A Modest Wit Selleck Osborn
Jolly Jack William Makepeace Thackeray
The King of Brentford William Makepeace Thackeray
Kaiser & Co A. Macgregor Rose
Nongtongpaw Charles Dibdin
The Lion and the Cub John Gay
The Hare with Many Friends John Gay
The Sycophantic Fox and the
Gullible Raven Guy Wetmore Carryl
The Friend of Humanity and
the Knife-Grinder George Canning
Villon's Straight Tip to all
Cross Coves William Ernest Henley
Villon's Ballade Andrew Lang
A Little Brother of the Rich Edward Sandford Martin
The World's Way Thomas Bailey Aldrich
For My Own Monument Matthew Prior
The Bishop Orders His Tomb
at Saint Praxed's Church Robert Browning
Up at a Villa--Down in the
City Robert Browning
All Saints' Edmund Yates
An Address to the Unco Guid Robert Burns
The Deacon's Masterpiece Oliver Wendell Holmes
Ballade of a Friar Andrew Lang
The Chameleon James Merrick
The Blind Men and the
Elephant John Godfrey Saxe
The Philosopher's Scales Jane Taylor
The Maiden and the Lily John Fraser
The Owl-Critic James Thomas Fields
The Ballad of Imitation Austin Dobson
The Conundrum of the
Workshops Rudyard Kipling
The V-a-s-e James Jeffrey Roche
Hem and Haw Bliss Carmen
Miniver Cheevy Edwin Arlington Robinson
Then Ag'in Sam Walter Foss
A Conservative Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman
Similar Cases Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman
Man and the Ascidian Andrew Lang
The Calf-Path Sam Walter Foss
Wedded Bliss Charlotte Perkins Stetson Gilman
Paradise: A Hindoo Legend George Birdseye
Ad Chloen, M. A. Mortimer Collins
"As Like the Woman as
You Can" William Ernest Henley
"No Fault in Women" Robert Herrick
"Are Women Fair" Francis Davison (?)
A Strong Hand Aaron Hill
Women's Longing John Fletcher
Triolet Robert Bridges
The Fair Circassian Richard Garnett
The Female Phaeton Matthew Prior
The Lure John Boyle O'Reilly
The Female of the Species Rudyard Kipling
The Woman with the Serpent's
Tongue William Watson
Suppose Anne Reeve Aldrich
Too Candid by Half John Godfrey Saxe
Fable Ralph Waldo Emerson
Woman's Will Unknown
Woman's Will John Godfrey Saxe
Plays Walter Savage Landor
Remedy Worse than the
Disease Matthew Prior
The Net of Law James Jeffrey Roche
Cologne Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Epitaph on Charles II John Wilmot
Certain Maxims of Hafiz Rudyard Kipling
A Baker's Duzzen uv
Wise Sawz Edward Rowland Sill
Epigram Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Epigram Unknown
Epigram Richard Garnett
Epigram Richard Garnett
Epigram Walter Savage Landor
Epigram William Erskine
Epigram Richard Brinsley Sheridan
Epigram Alexander Pope
Epigram Samuel Johnson
Epigram John Gay
Epigram Alexander Pope
Epigram Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Epigram Unknown
Epigram Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Epigram Unknown
Epigram Matthew Prior
Epigram George Macdonald
Epigram Jonathan Swift
Epigram Byron's epitaph for Pitt
Epigram David Garrick
Epigram John Harington
Epigram John Byrom
Epigram Richard Garnett
Epigram Thomas Moore
Epigram Unknown
Epigram Samuel Taylor Coleridge
Epigram John Dryden
Epigram Thomas Hood
Written on a Looking-glass Unknown
An Epitaph George John Cayley
On the Aristocracy of
Harvard John Collins Bossidy
On the Democracy of Yale Frederick Scheetz Jones
A General Summary Rudyard Kipling
THE MIMICS
An Omar for Ladies Josephine Daskam Bacon
"When Lovely Woman" Phoebe Cary
Fragment in Imitation of
Wordsworth Catherine M. Fanshaw
Only Seven Henry Sambrooke Leigh
Lucy Lake Newton Mackintosh
Jane Smith Rudyard Kipling
Father William Lewis Carroll
The New Arrival George Washington Cable
Disaster Charles Stuart Calverley
'Twas Ever Thus Henry Sambrooke Leigh
A Grievance James Kenneth Stephen
"Not a Sou Had he Got" Richard Harris Barham
The Whiting and the Snail Lewis Carroll
The Recognition William Sawyer
The Higher Pantheism in a
Nutshell Algernon Charles Swinburne
The Willow-tree William Makepeace Thackeray
Poets and Linnets Tom Hood, the Younger
The Jam-pot Rudyard Kipling
Ballad Charles Stuart Calverley
The Poster-girl Carolyn Wells
After Dilletante Concetti Henry Duff Traill
If Mortimer Collins
Nephilidia Algernon Charles Swinburne
Commonplaces Rudyard Kipling
The Promissory Note Bayard Taylor
Mrs. Judge Jenkins Bret Harte
The Modern Hiawatha George A. Strong
How Often Ben King
"If I should Die To-night" Ben King
Sincere Flattery James Kenneth Stephen
Culture in the Slums William Ernest Henley
The Poets at Tea Barry Pain
Wordsworth James Kenneth Stephen
PART IV
FAMILIAR VERSE, AND POEMS HUMOROUS AND SATIRIC
BALLADE OF THE PRIMITIVE JEST
"What did the dark-haired Iberian laugh at before the tall blonde
Aryan drove him into the corners of Europe?"--Brander Matthews
I am an ancient Jest!
Palaeolithic man
In his arboreal nest
The sparks of fun would fan;
My outline did he plan,
And laughed like one possessed,
'Twas thus my course began,
I am a Merry Jest!
I am an early Jest!
Man delved, and built, and span;
Then wandered South and West
The peoples Aryan,
I journeyed in their van;
The Semites, too, confessed,--
From Beersheba to Dan,--
I am a Merry Jest!
I am an ancient Jest!
Through all the human clan,
Red, black, white, free, oppressed,
Hilarious I ran!
I'm found in Lucian,
In Poggio, and the rest,
I'm dear to Moll and Nan!
I am a Merry Jest!
ENVOY
Prince, you may storm and ban--
Joe Millers are a pest,
Suppress me if you can!
I am a Merry Jest!
Andrew Lang [1844-1912]
THE KINDLY MUSE
TIME TO BE WISE
Yes; I write verses now and then,
But blunt and flaccid is my pen,
No longer talked of by young men
As rather clever:
In the last quarter are my eyes,
You see it by their form and size;
Is it not time then to be wise?
Or now or never.
Fairest that ever sprang from Eve!
While Time allows the short reprieve,
Just look at me! would you believe
'Twas once a lover?
I cannot clear the five-bar gate;
But, trying first its timber's state,
Climb stiffly up, take breath, and wait
To trundle over.
Through gallopade I cannot swing
The entangling blooms of Beauty's spring:
I cannot say the tender thing,
Be't true or false,
And am beginning to opine
Those girls are only half-divine
Whose waists yon wicked boys entwine
In giddy waltz.
I fear that arm above that shoulder;
I wish them wiser, graver, older,
Sedater, and no harm if colder,
And panting less.
Ah! people were not half so wild
In former days, when, starchly mild,
Upon her high-heeled Essex smiled
The brave Queen Bess.
Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]
UNDER THE LINDENS
Under the lindens lately sat
A couple, and no more, in chat;
I wondered what they would be at
Under the lindens.
I saw four eyes and four lips meet,
I heard the words, "How sweet! how sweet!"
Had then the Fairies given a treat
Under the lindens?
I pondered long and could not tell
What dainty pleased them both so well:
Bees! bees! was it your hydromel
Under the lindens?
Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]
ADVICE
To write as your sweet mother does
Is all you wish to do.
Play, sing, and smile for others, Rose!
Let others write for you.
Or mount again your Dartmoor gray,
And I will walk beside,
Until we reach that quiet bay
Which only hears the tide.
Then wave at me your pencil, then
At distance bid me stand,
Before the caverned cliff, again
The creature of your hand.
And bid me then go past the nook
To sketch me less in size;
There are but few content to look
So little in your eyes.
Delight us with the gifts you have,
And wish for none beyond:
To some be gay, to some be grave,
To one (blest youth!) be fond.
Pleasures there are how close to Pain
And better unpossessed!
Let poetry's too throbbing vein
Lie quiet in your breast.
Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]
TO FANNY
Never mind how the pedagogue proses,
You want not antiquity's stamp;
The lip, that such fragrance discloses,
Oh! never should smell of the lamp.
Old Chloe, whose withering kisses
Have long set the Loves at defiance,
Now, done with the science of blisses,
May fly to the blisses of science!
Young Sappho, for want of employments,
Alone o'er her Ovid may melt,
Condemned but to read of enjoyments,
Which wiser Corinna had felt.
But for you to be buried in books--
Oh, Fanny! they're pitiful sages;
Who could not in one of your looks
Read more than in millions of pages!
Astronomy finds in your eyes
Better light than she studies above,
And Music must borrow your sighs
As the melody fittest for Love.
In Ethics--'tis you that can check,
In a minute, their doubts and their quarrels;
Oh! show but that mole on your neck,
And 'twill soon put an end to their morals.
Your Arithmetic only can trip
When to kiss and to count you endeavor;
But eloquence glows on your lip
When you swear that you'll love me for ever.
Thus you see what a brilliant alliance
Of arts is assembled in you,--
A course of more exquisite science
Man never need wish to pursue.
And, oh!--if a Fellow like me
May confer a diploma of hearts,
With my lip thus I seal your degree,
My divine little Mistress of Arts!
Thomas Moore [1779-1852]
"I'D BE A BUTTERFLY"
I'd be a Butterfly born in a bower,
Where roses and lilies and violets meet;
Roving for ever from flower to flower,
And kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet!
I'd never languish for wealth, or for power,
I'd never sigh to see slaves at my feet:
I'd be a Butterfly born in a bower,
Kissing all buds that are pretty and sweet.
O could I pilfer the wand of a fairy,
I'd have a pair of those beautiful wings;
Their summer days' ramble is sportive and airy,
They sleep in a rose when the nightingale sings.
Those who have wealth must be watchful and wary;
Power, alas! naught but misery brings!
I'd be a Butterfly, sportive and airy,
Rocked in a rose when the nightingale sings!
What, though you tell me each gay little rover
Shrinks from the breath of the first autumn day:
Surely 'tis better when summer is over
To die when all fair things are fading away.
Some in life's winter may toil to discover
Means of procuring a weary delay--
I'd be a butterfly; living, a rover,
Dying when fair things are fading away!
Thomas Haynes Bayly [1797-1839]
"I'M NOT A SINGLE MAN"
Lines Written In A Young Lady's Album
A pretty task, Miss S---, to ask
A Benedictine pen,
That cannot quite at freedom write
Like those of other men.
No lover's plaint my Muse must paint
To fill this page's span,
But be correct and recollect
I'm not a single man.
Pray only think, for pen and ink
How hard to get along,
That may not turn on words that burn,
Or Love, the life of song!
Nine Muses, if I chooses, I
May woo all in a clan;
But one Miss S--- I daren't address--
I'm not a single man.
Scribblers unwed, with little head,
May eke it out with heart
And in their lays it often plays
A rare first-fiddle part.
They make a kiss to rhyme with bliss,
But if I so began,
I have my fears about my ears--
I'm not a single man.
Upon your cheek I may not speak,
Nor on your lip be warm,
I must be wise about your eyes,
And formal with your form;
Of all that sort of thing, in short,
On T. H. Bayly's plan,
I must not twine a single line--
I'm not a single man.
A watchman's part compels my heart
To keep you off its beat,
And I might dare as soon to swear
At you, as at your feet.
I can't expire in passion's fire
As other poets can--
My life (she's by) won't let me die--
I'm not a single man.
Shut out from love, denied a dove,
Forbidden bow and dart;
Without a groan to call my own,
With neither hand nor heart;
To Hymen vowed, and not allowed
To flirt e'en with your fan,
Here end, as just a friend, I must--
I'm not a single man.
Thomas Hood [1799-1845]
TO----
We met but in one giddy dance,
Good-night joined hands with greeting;
And twenty thousand things may chance
Before our second meeting;
For oh! I have been often told
That all the world grows older,
And hearts and hopes to-day so cold,
To-morrow must be colder.
If I have never touched the string
Beneath your chamber, dear one,
And never said one civil thing
When you were by to hear one,--
If I have made no rhymes about
Those looks which conquer Stoics,
And heard those angel tones, without
One fit of fair heroics,--
Yet do not, though the world's cold school
Some bitter truths has taught me,
Oh, do not deem me quite the fool
Which wiser friends have thought me!
There is one charm I still could feel,
If no one laughed at feeling;
One dream my lute could still reveal,--
If it were worth revealing.
But Folly little cares what name
Of friend or foe she handles,
When merriment directs the game,
And midnight dims the candles;
I know that Folly's breath is weak
And would not stir a feather;
But yet I would not have her speak
Your name and mine together.
Oh no! this life is dark and bright,
Half rapture and half sorrow;
My heart is very full to-night,
My cup shall be to-morrow!
But they shall never know from me,
On any one condition,
Whose health made bright my Burgundy,
Whose beauty was my vision!
Winthrop Mackworth Praed [1802-1839]
THE VICAR
Some years ago, ere Time and Taste
Had turned our parish topsy-turvy,
When Darnel Park was Darnel Waste,
And roads as little known as scurvy,
The man who lost his way between
St. Mary's Hill and Sandy Thicket,
Was always shown across the Green,
And guided to the Parson's wicket.
Back flew the bolt of lissom lath;
Fair Margaret, in her tidy kirtle,
Led the lorn traveller up the path
Through clean-clipt rows of box and myrtle;
And Don and Sancho, Tramp and Tray,
Upon the parlor steps collected,
Wagged all their tails, and seemed to say,
"Our master knows you; you're expected!"
Up rose the Reverend Doctor Brown,
Up rose the Doctor's "winsome marrow";
The lady laid her knitting down,
Her husband clasped his ponderous Barrow;
Whate'er the stranger's caste or creed,
Pundit or papist, saint or sinner,
He found a stable for his steed,
And welcome for himself, and dinner.
If, when he reached his journey's end,
And warmed himself in court or college,
He had not gained an honest friend,
And twenty curious scraps of knowledge;--
If he departed as he came,
With no new light on love or liquor,--
Good sooth, the traveller was to blame,
And not the Vicarage, nor the Vicar.
His talk was like a stream which runs
With rapid change from rocks to roses;
It slipped from politics to puns;
It passed from Mahomet to Moses;
Beginning with the laws which keep
The planets in their radiant courses,
And ending with some precept deep
For dressing eels or shoeing horses.
He was a shrewd and sound divine,
Of loud Dissent the mortal terror;
And when, by dint of page and line,
He 'stablished Truth, or startled Error,
The Baptist found him far too deep,
The Deist sighed with saving sorrow,
And the lean Levite went to sleep
And dreamed of tasting pork to-morrow.
His sermon never said or showed
That Earth is foul, that Heaven is gracious,
Without refreshment on the road
From Jerome, or from Athanasius;
And sure a righteous zeal inspired
The hand and head that penned and planned them,
For all who understood, admired,
And some who did not understand them.
He wrote, too, in a quiet way,
Small treatises, and smaller verses,
And sage remarks on chalk and clay,
And hints to noble lords and nurses;
True histories of last year's ghost;
Lines to a ringlet or a turban;
And trifles to the Morning Post,
And nothings for Sylvanus Urban.
He did not think all mischief fair,
Although he had a knack of joking;
He did not make himself a bear,
Although he had a taste for smoking;
And when religious sects ran mad,
He held, in spite of all his learning,
That if a man's belief is bad,
It will not be improved by burning.
And he was kind, and loved to sit
In the low hut or garnished cottage,
And praise the farmer's homely wit,
And share the widow's homelier pottage.
At his approach complaint grew mild,
And when his hand unbarred the shutter,
The clammy lips of Fever smiled
The welcome which they could not utter.
He always had a tale for me
Of Julius Caesar or of Venus;
From him I learned the rule of three,
Cat's-cradle, leap-frog, and Quae genus.
I used to singe his powdered wig,
To steal the staff he put such trust in,
And make the puppy dance a jig
When he began to quote Augustine.
Alack, the change! In vain I look
For haunts in which my boyhood trifled;
The level lawn, the trickling brook,
The trees I climbed, the beds I rifled.
The church is larger than before,
You reach it by a carriage entry:
It holds three hundred people more,
And pews are fitted up for gentry.
Sit in the Vicar's seat; you'll hear
The doctrine of a gentle Johnian,
Whose hand is white, whose voice is clear,
Whose phrase is very Ciceronian.
Where is the old man laid? Look down,
And construe on the slab before you:
"Hic jacet Gulielmus Brown,
Vir nulla non donandus lauru."
Winthrop Mackworth Praed [1802-1839]
THE BELLE OF THE BALL-ROOM
Years, years ago, ere yet my dreams
Had been of being wise or witty;
Ere I had done with writing themes,
Or yawned o'er this infernal Chitty;--
Years, years ago, while all my joy
Were in my fowling-piece and filly;
In short, while I was yet a boy,
I fell in love with Laura Lilly.
I saw her at the County Ball;
There, when the sounds of flute and fiddle
Gave signal sweet in that old hall
Of hands across and down the middle,
Hers was the subtlest spell by far
Of all that sets young hearts romancing:
She was our queen, our rose, our star;
And then she danced,--oh, heaven, her dancing!
Dark was her hair, her hand was white;
Her voice was exquisitely tender;
Her eyes were full of liquid light;
I never saw a waist so slender;
Her every look, her every smile,
Shot right and left a score of arrows;
I thought 'twas Venus from her isle,
And wondered where she'd left her sparrows.
She talked of politics or prayers,--
Of Southey's prose, or Wordsworth's sonnets,
Of danglers or of dancing bears,
Of battles, or the last new bonnets;
By candle-light, at twelve o'clock,
To me it mattered not a tittle,
If those bright lips had quoted Locke,
I might have thought they murmured Little.
Through sunny May, through sultry June,
I loved her with a love eternal;
I spoke her praises to the moon,
I wrote them to the Sunday Journal.
My mother laughed; I soon found out
That ancient ladies have no feeling:
My father frowned; but how should gout
See any happiness in kneeling?
She was the daughter of a dean,
Rich, fat, and rather apoplectic;
She had one brother just thirteen,
Whose color was extremely hectic;
Her grandmother, for many a year,
Had fed the parish with her bounty;
Her second cousin was a peer,
And lord-lieutenant of the county.
But titles and the three-per-cents,
And mortgages, and great relations,
And India bonds, and tithes and rents,
Oh, what are they to love's sensations?
Black eyes, fair forehead, clustering locks,--
Such wealth, such honors, Cupid chooses;
He cares as little for the stocks,
As Baron Rothschild for the Muses.
She sketched; the vale, the wood, the beach,
Grew lovelier from her pencil's shading;
She botanized; I envied each
Young blossom in her boudoir fading:
She warbled Handel; it was grand,--
She made the Catilina jealous;
She touched the organ; I could stand
For hours and hours to blow the bellows.
She kept an album, too, at home,
Well filled with all an album's glories;
Paintings of butterflies and Rome,
Patterns for trimmings, Persian stories,
Soft songs to Julia's cockatoo,
Fierce odes to famine and to slaughter,
And autographs of Prince Leboo,
And recipes for elder-water.
And she was flattered, worshipped, bored;
Her steps were watched, her dress was noted;
Her poodle-dog was quite adored;
Her sayings were extremely quoted.
She laughed, and every heart was glad,
As if the taxes were abolished;
She frowned, and every took was sad,
As if the opera were demolished.
She smiled on many just for fun,--
I knew that there was nothing in it;
I was the first, the only one
Her heart had thought of for a minute.
I knew it, for she told me so,
In phrase which was divinely moulded;
She wrote a charming hand, and oh,
How sweetly all her notes were folded!
Our love was like most other loves,--
A little glow, a little shiver,
A rosebud and a pair of gloves,
And "Fly Not Yet," upon the river;
Some jealousy of some one's heir,
Some hopes of dying broken-hearted;
A miniature, a lock of hair,
The usual vows,--and then we parted.
We parted: months and years rolled by;
We met again four summers after.
Our parting was all sob and sigh,--
Our meeting was all mirth and laughter;
For, in my heart's most secret cell,
There had been many other lodgers;
And she was not the ball-room's belle,
But only Mrs.--Something--Rogers.
Winthrop Mackworth Praed [1802-1839]
THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN
I'll sing you a good old song,
Made by a good old pate,
Of a fine old English gentleman
Who had an old estate,
And who kept up his old mansion
At a bountiful old rate;
With a good old porter to relieve
The old poor at his gate,
Like a fine old English gentleman
All of the olden time.
His hall so old was hung around
With pikes and guns and bows,
And swords, and good old bucklers,
That had stood some tough old blows;
'Twas there "his worship" held his state
In doublet and trunk hose,
And quaffed his cup of good old sack,
To warm his good old nose,
Like a fine old English gentleman
All of the olden time.
When winter's cold brought frost and snow,
He opened house to all;
And though threescore and ten his years,
He featly led the ball;
Nor was the houseless wanderer
E'er driven from his hall;
For while he feasted all the great,
He ne'er forgot the small;
Like a fine old English gentleman
All of the olden time.
But time, though old, is strong in flight,
And years rolled swiftly by;
And Autumn's falling leaves proclaimed
This good old man must die!
He laid him down right tranquilly,
Gave up life's latest sigh;
And mournful stillness reigned around,
And tears bedewed each eye,
For this fine old English gentleman
All of the olden time.
Now surely this is better far
Than all the new parade
Of theaters and fancy balls,
"At home" and masquerade:
And much more economical,
For all his bills were paid,
Then leave your new vagaries quite,
And take up the old trade
Of a fine old English gentleman,
All of the olden time.
Unknown
A TERNARIE OF LITTLES, UPON A PIPKIN OF JELLY SENT TO A LADY
A Little Saint best fits a little Shrine,
A little Prop best fits a little Vine,
As my small Cruse best fits my little Wine.
A little Seed best fits a little Soil,
A little Trade best fits a little Toil,
As my small Jar best fits my little Oil.
A little Bin best fits a little Bread,
A little Garland fits a little Head,
As my small Stuff best fits my little Shed.
A little Hearth best fits a little Fire,
A little Chapel fits a little Quire,
As my small Bell best fits my little Spire.
A little Stream best fits a little Boat,
A little Lead best fits a little Float,
As my small Pipe best fits my little Note.
A little Meat best fits a little Belly,
As sweetly, lady, give me leave to tell ye,
This little Pipkin fits this little Jelly.
Robert Herrick [1591-1674]
CHIVALRY AT A DISCOUNT
Fair cousin mine! the golden days
Of old romance are over;
And minstrels now care naught for bays,
Nor damsels for a lover;
And hearts are cold, and lips are mute
That kindled once with passion,
And now we've neither lance nor lute,
And tilting's out of fashion.
Yet weeping Beauty mourns the time
When Love found words in flowers;
When softest test sighs were breathed in rhyme,
And sweetest songs in bowers;
Now wedlock is a sober thing--
No more of chains or forges!--
A plain young man--a plain gold ring--
The curate--and St. George's.
Then every cross-bow had a string,
And every heart a fetter;
And making love was quite the thing,
And making verses better;
And maiden-aunts were never seen,
And gallant beaux were plenty;
And lasses married at sixteen,
And died at one-and-twenty.
Then hawking was a noble sport,
And chess a pretty science;
And huntsmen learned to blow a morte,
And heralds a defiance;
And knights and spearmen showed their might,
And timid hinds took warning;
And hypocras was warmed at night,
And coursers in the morning.
Then plumes and pennons were prepared,
And patron-saints were lauded;
And noble deeds were bravely dared,
And noble dames applauded;
And Beauty played the leech's part,
And wounds were healed with syrup;
And warriors sometimes lost a heart,
But never lost a stirrup.
Then there was no such thing as Fear,
And no such word as Reason;
And Faith was like a pointed spear,
And Fickleness was treason;
And hearts were soft, though blows were hard;
But when the fight was over,
A brimming goblet cheered the board,
His Lady's smile the lover.
Ay, those were golden days! The moon
Had then her true adorers;
And there were lyres and lutes in tune,
And no such thing as snorers;
And lovers swam, and held at naught
Streams broader than the Mersey;
And fifty thousand would have fought
For a smile from Lady Jersey.
Then people wore an iron vest,
And bad no use for tailors;
And the artizans who lived the best
Were armorers and nailers;
And steel was measured by the ell
And trousers lined with leather;
And jesters wore a cap and bell,
And knights a cap and feather.
Then single folks might live at ease,
And married ones might sever;
Uncommon doctors had their fees,
But Doctor's Commons never;
O! had we in those times been bred,
Fair cousin, for thy glances,
Instead of breaking Priscian's head,
I had been breaking lances!
Edward Fitzgerald [1809-1883]
THE BALLAD OF BOUILLABAISSE
A street there is in Paris famous,
For which no rhyme our language yields,
Rue Neuve des Petits Champs its name is--
The New Street of the Little Fields;
And there's an inn, not rich and splendid,
But still in comfortable case--
The which in youth I oft attended,
To eat a bowl of Bouillabaisse.
This Bouillabaisse a noble dish is--
A sort of soup, or broth, or brew,
Or hotchpotch of all sorts of fishes,
That Greenwich never could outdo;
Green herbs, red peppers, mussels, saffern,
Soles, onions, garlic, roach, and dace:
All these you eat at Terre's tavern,
In that one dish of Bouillabaisse.
Indeed, a rich and savory stew 'tis;
And true philosophers, methinks,
Who love all sorts of natural beauties,
Should love good victuals and good drinks.
And Cordelier or Benedictine
Might gladly, sure, his lot embrace,
Nor find a fast-day too afflicting,
Which served him up a Bouillabaisse.
I wonder if the house still there is?
Yes, here the lamp is as before;
The smiling, red-cheeked ecaillere is
Still opening oysters at the door.
Is Terre still alive and able?
I recollect his droll grimace;
He'd come and smile before your table
And hope you liked your Bouillabaisse.
We enter; nothing's changed or older.
"How's Monsieur Terre, waiter, pray?"
The waiter stares and shrugs his shoulder;--
"Monsieur is dead this many a day."
"It is the lot of saint and sinner.
So honest Terre's run his race!"
"What will Monsieur require for dinner?"
"Say, do you still cook Bouillabaisse?"
"Oh, oui, Monsieur," 's the waiter's answer;
"Quel vin Monsieur desire-t-il?"
"Tell me a good one." "That I can, Sir;
The Chambertin with yellow seal."
"So Terre's gone," I say, and sink in
My old accustomed corner-place;
"He's done with feasting and with drinking,
With Burgundy and Bouillabaisse."
My old accustomed corner here is,--
The table still is in the nook;
Ah! vanished many a busy year is,
This well-known chair since last I took,
When first I saw ye, cari luoghi,
I'd scarce a beard upon my face,
And now a grizzled, grim old fogy,
I sit and wait for Bouillabaisse.
Where are you, old companions trusty
Of early days here met to dine?
Come, waiter! quick, a flagon crusty--
I'll pledge them in the good old wine.
The kind old voices and old faces
My memory can quick retrace;
Around the board they take their places,
And share the wine and Bouillabaisse.
There's Jack has made a wondrous marriage;
There's laughing Tom is laughing yet;
There's brave Augustus drives his carriage;
There's poor old Fred in the Gazette;
On James's head the grass is growing:
Good Lord! the world has wagged apace
Since here we set the Claret flowing,
And drank, and ate the Bouillabaisse.
Ah me! how quick the days are flitting!
I mind me of a time that's gone,
When here I'd sit, as now I'm sitting,
In this same place--but not alone.
A fair young form was nestled near me,
A dear, dear face looked fondly up,
And sweetly spoke and smiled to cheer me.
--There's no one now to share my cup....
I drink it as the Fates ordain it.
Come, fill it, and have done with rhymes;
Fill up the lonely glass, and drain it
In memory of dear old times.
Welcome the wine, whate'er the seal is;
And sit you down and say your grace
With thankful heart, whate'er the meal is.
--Here comes the smoking Bouillabaisse!
William Makepeace Thackeray [1811-1863]
TO MY GRANDMOTHER
Suggested By A Picture By Mr. Romney
Under the elm a rustic seat
Was merriest Susan's pet retreat
To merry-make
This Relative of mine
Was she seventy-and-nine
When she died?
By the canvas may be seen
How she looked at seventeen,
As a Bride.
Beneath a summer tree
Her maiden reverie
Has a charm;
Her ringlets are in taste;
What an arm! and what a waist
For an arm!
With her bridal-wreath, bouquet,
Lace farthingale, and gay
Falbala,--
If Romney's touch be true,
What a lucky dog were you,
Grandpapa!
Her lips are sweet as love;
They are parting! Do they move?
Are they dumb?
Her eyes are blue, and beam
Beseechingly, and seem
To say, "Come!"
What funny fancy slips
From atween these cherry lips?
Whisper me,
Fair Sorceress in paint,
What canon says I mayn't
Marry thee?
That good-for-nothing Time
Has a confidence sublime!
When I first
Saw this Lady, in my youth,
Her winters had, forsooth,
Done their worst.
Her locks, as white as snow,
Once shamed the swarthy crow;
By-and-by
That fowl's avenging sprite
Set his cruel foot for spite
Near her eye.
Her rounded form was lean,
And her silk was bombazine:
Well I wot
With her needles would she sit,
And for hours would she knit.--
Would she not?
Ah perishable clay!
Her charms had dropped away
One by one:
But if she heaved a sigh
With a burden, it was, "Thy
Will be done."
In travail, as in tears,
With the fardel of her years
Overpressed,
In mercy she was borne
Where the weary and the worn
Are at rest.
Oh, if you now are there,
And sweet as once you were,
Grandmamma,
This nether world agrees
You'll all the better please
Grandpapa.
Frederick Locker-Lampson [1821-1895]
MY MISTRESS'S BOOTS
She has dancing eyes and ruby lips,
Delightful boots--and away she skips
They nearly strike me dumb,--
I tremble when they come
Pit-a-pat:
This palpitation means
These Boots are Geraldine's--
Think of that!
O, where did hunter win
So delicate a skin
For her feet?
You lucky little kid,
You perished, so you did,
For my Sweet.
The fairy stitching gleams
On the sides, and in the seams,
And reveals
That the Pixies were the wags
Who tipped these funny tags,
And these heels.
What soles to charm an elf!--
Had Crusoe, sick of self,
Chanced to view
One printed near the tide,
O, how hard he would have tried
For the two!
For Gerry's debonair,
And innocent and fair
As a rose;
She's an Angel in a frock,--
She's an Angel with a clock
To her hose!
The simpletons who squeeze
Their pretty toes to please
Mandarins,
Would positively flinch
From venturing to pinch
Geraldine's.
Cinderella's lefts and rights
To Geraldine's were frights:
And I trow
The Damsel, deftly shod,
Has dutifully trod
Until now.
Come, Gerry, since it suits
Such a pretty Puss (in Boots)
These to don,
Set your dainty hand awhile
On my shoulder, Dear, and I'll
Put them on.
Frederick Locker-Lampson [1821-1895]
A GARDEN LYRIC
Geraldine And I
Dite, Damasippe, deaeque
Verum ob consilium donent tonsore.
We have loitered and laughed in the flowery croft,
We have met under wintry skies;
Her voice is the dearest voice, and soft
Is the light in her wistful eyes;
It is bliss in the silent woods, among
Gay crowds, or in any place,
To mould her mind, to gaze in her young
Confiding face.
For ever may roses divinely blow,
And wine-dark pansies charm
By that prim box path where I felt the glow
Of her dimpled, trusting arm,
And the sweep of her silk as she turned and smiled
A smile as pure as her pearls;
The breeze was in love with the darling Child,
And coaxed her curls.
She showed me her ferns and woodbine sprays,
Foxglove and jasmine stars,
A mist of blue in the beds, a blaze
Of red in the celadon jars:
And velvety bees in convolvulus bells,
And roses of bountiful Spring.
But I said--"Though roses and bees have spells,
They have thorn, and sting."
She showed me ripe peaches behind a net
As fine as her veil, and fat
Goldfish a-gape, who lazily met
For her crumbs--I grudged them that!
A squirrel, some rabbits with long lop ears,
And guinea-pigs, tortoise-shell--wee;
And I told her that eloquent truth inheres
In all we see.
I lifted her doe by its lops, quoth I,
"Even here deep meaning lies,--
Why have squirrels these ample tails, and why
Have rabbits these prominent eyes?"
She smiled and said, as she twirled her veil,
"For some nice little cause, no doubt--
If you lift a guinea-pig up by the tail
His eyes drop out!"
Frederick Locker Lampson [1821-1895]
MRS. SMITH
Heigh-ho! they're wed. The cards are dealt,
Our frolic games are o'er;
I've laughed, and fooled, and loved. I've felt--
As I shall feel no more!
Yon little thatch is where she lives,
Yon spire is where she met me;--
I think that if she quite forgives,
She cannot quite forget me.
Last year I trod these fields with Di,--
Fields fresh with clover and with rye;
They now seem arid:
Then Di was fair and single; how
Unfair it seems on me, for now
Di's fair,--and married!
A blissful swain,--I scorned the song
Which tells us though young Love is strong,
The Fates are stronger:
Then breezes blew a boon to men,
Then buttercups were bright, and then
The grass was longer.
That day I saw, and much esteemed,
Di's ankles, that the clover seemed
Inclined to smother:
It twitched, and soon untied (for fun)
The ribbons of her shoes, first one,
And then the other.
I'm told that virgins augur some
Misfortune if their shoe-strings come
To grief on Friday:
And so did Di,--and then her pride
Decreed that shoe-strings so untied,
Are "so untidy!"
Of course I knelt; with fingers deft
I tied the right, and tied the left:
Says Di, "This stubble
Is very stupid!--as I live
I'm quite ashamed!--I'm shocked to give
You so much trouble!"
For answer I was fain to sink
To what we all would say and think
Were Beauty present:
"Don't mention such a simple act--
A trouble? not the least! In fact
It's rather pleasant!"
I trust that Love will never tease
Poor little Di, or prove that he's
A graceless rover.
She's happy now as Mrs. Smith--
But less polite when walking with
Her chosen lover!
Heigh-ho! Although no moral clings
To Di's blue eyes, and sandal strings,
We had our quarrels.
I think that Smith is thought an ass,--
I know that when they walk in grass
She wears balmorals.
Frederick Locker-Lampson [1821-1895]
THE SKELETON IN THE CUPBOARD
The characters of great and small
Come ready made, we can't bespeak one;
Their sides are many, too, and all
(Except ourselves) have got a weak one.
Some sanguine people love for life,
Some love their hobby till it flings them.
How many love a pretty wife
For love of the eclat she brings them!...
A little to relieve my mind
I've thrown off this disjointed chatter,
But more because I'm disinclined
To enter on a painful matter:
Once I was bashful; I'll allow
I've blushed for words untimely spoken;
I still am rather shy, and now...
And now the ice is fairly broken.
We all have secrets: you have one
Which may n't be quite your charming spouse's;
We all lock up a Skeleton
In some grim chamber of our houses;
Familiars who exhaust their days
And nights in probing where our smart is,
And who, for all their spiteful ways,
Are "silent, unassuming Parties."
We hug this Phantom we detest,
Rarely we let it cross our portals:
It is a most exacting guest,
And we are much afflicted mortals.
Your neighbor Gay, that jovial wight,
As Dives rich, and brave as Hector,
Poor Gay steals twenty times a night,
On shaking knees, to see his Specter.
Old Dives fears a pauper fate,
So hoarding is his ruling passion:--
Some gloomy souls anticipate
A waistcoat, straiter than the fashion!
She childless pines, that lonely wife,
And secret tears are bitter shedding;
Hector may tremble all his life,
And die,--but not of that he's dreading....
Ah me, the World! How fast it spins!
The beldams dance, the caldron bubbles;
They shriek, they stir it for our sins,
And we must drain it for our troubles.
We toil, we groan; the cry for love
Mounts up from this poor seething city,
And yet I know we have above
A Father, infinite in pity.
When Beauty smiles, when Sorrow weeps,
Where sunbeams play, where shadows darken,
One inmate of our dwelling keeps
Its ghastly carnival; but hearken!
How dry the rattle of the bones!
That sound was not to make you start meant:
Stand by! Your humble servant owns
The Tenant of this Dark Apartment.
Frederick Locker-Lampson [1821-1895]
A TERRIBLE INFANT
I recollect a nurse called Ann,
Who carried me about the grass,
And one fine day a fine young man
Came up, and kissed the pretty lass:
She did not make the least objection!
Thinks I, "Aha!
When I can talk I'll tell Mamma"
--And that's my earliest recollection.
Frederick Locker-Lampson [1821-1895]
COMPANIONS
A Tale Of A Grandfather
I know not of what we pondered
Or made pretty pretence to talk,
As, her hand within mine, we wandered.
Toward the pool by the lime-tree walk,
While the dew fell in showers from the passion flowers
And the blush-rose bent on her stalk.
I cannot recall her figure:
Was it regal as Juno's own?
Or only a trifle bigger
Than the elves who surround the throne
Of the Fairy Queen, and are seen, I ween,
By mortals in dreams alone?
What her eyes were like I know not:
Perhaps they were blurred with tears;
And perhaps in yon skies there glow not
(On the contrary) clearer spheres.
No! as to her eyes I am just as wise
As you or the cat, my dears.
Her teeth, I presume, were "pearly":
But which was she, brunette or blonde?
Her hair, was it quaintly curly,
Or as straight as a beadle's wand?
That I failed to remark: it was rather dark
And shadowy round the pond.
Then the hand that reposed so snugly
In mine,--was it plump or spare?
Was the countenance fair or ugly?
Nay, children, you have me there!
My eyes were p'haps blurred; and besides I'd heard
That it's horribly rude to stare.
And I,--was I brusque and surly?
Or oppressively bland and fond?
Was I partial to rising early?
Or why did we twain abscond,
When nobody knew, from the public view
To prowl by a misty pond?
What passed, what was felt or spoken,--
Whether anything passed at all,--
And whether the heart was broken
That beat under that sheltering shawl,--
(If shawl she had on, which I doubt),--has gone,
Yes, gone from me past recall.
Was I haply the lady's suitor?
Or her uncle? I can't make out;
Ask your governess, dears, or tutor.
For myself, I'm in hopeless doubt
As to why we were there, who on earth we were,
And what this is all about.
Charles Stuart Calverley [1831-1884]
DOROTHY Q
A Family Portrait
Grandmother's mother: her age, I guess,
Thirteen summers, or something less:
Girlish bust, but womanly air;
Smooth, square forehead with uprolled hair;
Lips that lover has never kissed;
Taper fingers and slender wrist;
Hanging sleeves of stiff brocade;
So they painted the little maid.
On her hand a parrot green
Sits unmoving and broods serene.
Hold up the canvas full in view,--
Look! there's a rent the light shines through,
Dark with a century's fringe of dust,--
That was a Red-Coat's rapier-thrust!
Such is the tale the lady old,
Dorothy's daughter's daughter, told.
Who the painter was none may tell,--
One whose best was not over well;
Hard and dry, it must be confessed,
Flat as a rose that has long been pressed;
Yet in her cheek the hues are bright,
Dainty colors of red and white,
And in her slender shape are seen
Hint and promise of stately mien.
Look not on her with eyes of scorn,--
Dorothy Q. was a lady born!
Ay! since the galloping Normans came,
England's annals have known her name;
And still to the three-hilled rebel town
Dear is that ancient name's renown,
For many a civic wreath they won,
The youthful sire and the gray-haired son.
O Damsel Dorothy! Dorothy Q.!
Strange is the gift that I owe to you;
Such a gift as never a king
Save to daughter or son might bring,--
All my tenure of heart and hand,
All my title to house and land;
Mother and sister and child and wife
And joy and sorrow and death and life!
What if a hundred years ago
Those close-shut lips had answered No,
When forth the tremulous question came
That cost the maiden her Norman name,
And under the folds that look so still
The bodice swelled with the bosom's thrill?
Should I be I, or would it be
One tenth another, to nine tenths me?
Soft is the breath of a maiden's YES:
Not the light gossamer stirs with less;
But never a cable that holds so fast
Through all the battles of wave and blast,
And never an echo of speech or song
That lives in the babbling air so long!
There were tones in the voice that whispered then
You may hear to-day in a hundred men.
O lady and lover, how faint and far
Your images hover,--and here we are
Solid and stirring in flesh and bone,--
Edward's and Dorothy's--all their own,--
A goodly record for Time to show
Of a syllable spoken so long ago!--
Shall I bless you, Dorothy, or forgive
For the tender whisper that bade me live?
It shall be a blessing, my little maid!
I will heal the stab of the Red-Coat's blade,
And freshen the gold of the tarnished frame,
And gild with a rhyme your household name;
So you shall smile on us brave and bright
As first you greeted the morning's light,
And live untroubled by woes and fears
Through a second youth of a hundred years.
Oliver Wendell Holmes [1809-1894]
MY AUNT
My aunt! my dear unmarried aunt!
Long years have o'er her flown;
Yet still she strains the aching clasp
That binds her virgin zone;
I know it hurts her,--though she looks
As cheerful as she can;
Her waist is ampler than her life,
For life is but a span.
My aunt! my poor deluded aunt!
Her hair is almost gray;
Why will she train that winter curl
In such a spring-like way?
How can she lay her glasses down,
And say she reads as well,
When, through a double convex lens,
She just makes out to spell?
Her father,--grandpapa! forgive
This erring lip its smiles,--
Vowed she should make the finest girl
Within a hundred miles;
He sent her to a stylish school;
'Twas in her thirteenth June;
And with her, as the rules required,
"Two towels and a spoon."
They braced my aunt against a board,
To make her straight and tall;
They laced her up, they starved her down,
To make her light and small;
They pinched her feet, they singed her hair,
They screwed it up with pins;--
Oh, never mortal suffered more
In penance for her sins.
So, when my precious aunt was done,
My grandsire brought her back;
(By daylight, lest some rabid youth
Might follow on the track;)
"Ah!" said my grandsire, as he shook
Some powder in his pan,
"What could this lovely creature do
Against a desperate man!"
Alas! nor chariot, nor barouche,
Nor bandit cavalcade,
Tore from the trembling father's arms
His all-accomplished maid.
For her how happy had it been!
And Heaven had spared to me
To see one sad, ungathered rose
On my ancestral tree.
Oliver Wendell Holmes [1809-1894]
THE LAST LEAF
I saw him once before,
As he passed by the door,
And again
The pavement stones resound,
As he totters o'er the ground
With his cane.
They say that in his prime,
Ere the pruning-knife of Time
Cut him down,
Not a better man was found
By the Crier on his round
Through the town.
But now he walks the streets,
And he looks at all he meets
Sad and wan,
And he shakes his feeble head,
That it seems as if he said,
"They are gone."
The mossy marbles rest
On the lips that he has pressed
In their bloom,
And the names he loved to hear
Have been carved for many a year
On the tomb.
My grandmamma has said,--
Poor old lady, she is dead
Long ago,--
That he had a Roman nose,
And his cheek was like a rose
In the snow:
But now his nose is thin,
And it rests upon his chin
Like a staff,
And a crook is in his back,
And a melancholy crack
In his laugh.
I know it is a sin
For me to sit and grin
At him here;
But the old three-cornered hat,
And the breeches, and all that,
Are so queer!
And if I should live to be
The last leaf upon the tree
In the spring,
Let them smile, as I do now,
At the old forsaken bough
Where I cling.
Oliver Wendell Holmes [1809-1894]
CONTENTMENT
"Man wants but little here below"
Little I ask; my wants are few;
I only wish a hut of stone,
(A very plain brown stone will do,)
That I may call my own;--
And close at hand is such a one,
In yonder street that fronts the sun.
Plain food is quite enough for me;
Three courses are as good as ten;--
If Nature can subsist on three,
Thank Heaven for three. Amen!
I always thought cold victual nice;--
My choice would be vanilla-ice.
I care not much for gold or land;--
Give me a mortgage here and there,--
Some good bank-stock, some note of hand,
Or trifling railroad share,--
I only ask that Fortune send
A little more than I shall spend.
Honors are silly toys, I know,
And titles are but empty names;
I would, perhaps, be Plenipo,--
But only near St. James;
I'm very sure I should not care
To fill our Gubernator's chair.
Jewels are baubles; 'tis a sin
To care for such unfruitful things;--
One good-sized diamond in a pin,--
Some, not so large, in rings,--
A ruby, and a pearl, or so,
Will do for me;--I laugh at show.
My dame should dress in cheap attire;
(Good heavy silks are never dear;)--
I own perhaps I might desire
Some shawls of true Cashmere,--
Some marrowy crapes of China silk,
Like wrinkled skins on scalded milk.
I would not have the horse I drive
So fast that folks must stop and stare;
An easy gait--two forty-five--
Suits me; I do not care;--
Perhaps, far just a single spurt,
Some seconds less would do no hurt.
Of pictures, I should like to own
Titians and Raphaels three or four,--
I love so much their style and tone,--
One Turner, and no more,
(A landscape,--foreground golden dirt,--
The sunshine painted with a squirt.)
Of books but few,--some fifty score
For daily use, and bound for wear;
The rest upon an upper floor;--
Some little luxury there
Of red morocco's gilded gleam,
And vellum rich as country cream.
Busts, cameos, gems,--such things as these,
Which others often show for pride,
I value for their power to please,
And selfish churls deride;--
One Stradivarius, I confess,
Two meerschaums, I would fain possess.
Wealth's wasteful tricks I will not learn,
Nor ape the glittering upstart fool;--
Shall not carved tables serve my turn,
But all must be of buhl?
Give grasping pomp its double share,--
I ask but one recumbent chair.
Thus humble let me live and die,
Nor long for Midas' golden touch;
If Heaven more generous gifts deny,
I shall not miss them much,--
Too grateful for the blessing lent
Of simple tastes and mind content!
Oliver Wendell Holmes [1809-1894]
THE BOYS
Has there any old fellow got mixed with the boys?
If there has, take him out, without making a noise.
Hang the Almanac's cheat and the Catalogue's spite!
Old Time is a liar! We're twenty to-night!
We're twenty! We're twenty! Who, says we are more?
He's tipsy,--young jackanapes!--show him the door!
"Gray temples at twenty?"--Yes! white if we please!
Where the snow-flakes fall thickest there's nothing can freeze!
Was it snowing I spoke of? Excuse the mistake!
Look close,--you will not see a sign of a flake!
We want some new garlands for those we have shed,--
And these are white roses in place of the red.
We've a trick, we young fellows, you may have been told,
Of talking (in public) as if we were old:--
That boy we call "Doctor," and this we call "Judge;"
It's a neat little fiction,--of course it's all fudge.
That fellow's the "Speaker,"--the one on the right;
"Mr. Mayor," my young one, how are you to-night?
That's our "Member of Congress," we say when we chaff;
There's the "Reverend" What's his name?--don't make me laugh.
That boy with the grave mathematical look
Made believe he had written a wonderful book,
And the ROYAL SOCIETY thought it was true!
So they chose him right in; a good joke it was, too!
There's a boy, we pretend, with a three-decker brain,
That could harness a team with a logical chain;
When he spoke for our manhood in syllabled fire,
We called him "The Justice," but now he's "The Squire."
And there's a nice youngster of excellent pith,--
Fate tried to conceal him by naming him Smith;
But he shouted a song for the brave and the free,--
Just read on his medal, "My country," "of thee!"
You hear that boy laughing?--You think he's all fun;
But the angels laugh, too, at the good he has done;
The children laugh loud as they troop to his call,
And the poor man that knows him laughs loudest of all!
Yes, we're boys,--always playing with tongue or with pen,--
And I sometimes have asked,--Shall we ever be men?
Shall we always be youthful, and laughing, and gay,
Till the last dear companion drops smiling away?
Then here's to our boyhood, its gold and its gray!
The stars of its winter, the dews of its May!
And when we have done with our life-lasting toys,
Dear Father, take care of thy children, The Boys!
Oliver Wendell Holmes [1809-1894]
THE JOLLY OLD PEDAGOGUE
'Twas a jolly old pedagogue, long ago,
Tall and slender, and sallow and dry;
His form was bent, and his gait was slow,
His long, thin hair was as white as snow,
But a wonderful twinkle shone in his eye;
And he sang every night as he went to bed,
"Let us be happy down here below:
The living should live, though the dead be dead,"
Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.
He taught his scholars the rule of three,
Writing, and reading, and history, too;
He took the little ones up on his knee,
For a kind old heart in his breast had he,
And the wants of the littlest child he knew:
"Learn while you're young," he often said,
"There is much to enjoy, down here below;
Life for the living, and rest for the dead!"
Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.
With the stupidest boys he was kind and cool,
Speaking only in gentlest tones;
The rod was hardly known in his school...
Whipping, to him, was a barbarous rule,
And too hard work for his poor old bones;
Besides, it was painful, he sometimes said:
"We should make life pleasant, down here below,
The living need charity more than the dead,"
Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.
He lived in the house by the hawthorn lane,
With roses and woodbine over the door;
His rooms were quiet, and neat, and plain,
But a spirit of comfort there held reign,
And made him forget he was old and poor;
"I need so little," he often said;
"And my friends and relatives here below
Won't litigate over me when I am dead,"
Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.
But the pleasantest times that he had, of all,
Were the sociable hours he used to pass,
With his chair tipped back to a neighbor's wall,
Making an unceremonious call,
Over a pipe and a friendly glass:
This was the finest picture, he said,
Of the many he tasted, here below;
"Who has no cronies, had better be dead!"
Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.
Then the jolly old pedagogue's wrinkled face
Melted all over in sunshiny smiles;
He stirred his glass with an old-school grace,
Chuckled, and sipped, and prattled apace,
Till the house grew merry, from cellar to tiles:
"I'm a pretty old man," he gently said,
"I've lingered a long while, here below;
But my heart is fresh, if my youth is fled!"
Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.
He smoked his pipe in the balmy air,
Every night when the sun went down,
While the soft wind played in his silvery hair,
Leaving its tenderest kisses there,
On the jolly old pedagogue's jolly old crown:
And, feeling the kisses, he smiled and said,
'Twas a glorious world, down here below;
"Why wait for happiness till we are dead?"
Said the jolly old pedagogue, long ago.
He sat at his door, one midsummer night,
After the sun had sunk in the west,
And the lingering beams of golden light
Made his kindly old face look warm and bright,
While the odorous night-wind whispered "Rest!"
Gently, gently, he bowed his head....
There were angels waiting for him, I know;
He was sure of happiness, living or dead,
This jolly old pedagogue, long ago!
George Arnold [1834-1865]
ON AN INTAGLIO HEAD OF MINERVA
Beneath the warrior's helm, behold
The flowing tresses of the woman!
Minerva, Pallas, what you will--
A winsome creature, Greek or Roman.
Minerva? No! 'tis some sly minx
In cousin's helmet masquerading;
If not--then Wisdom was a dame
For sonnets and for serenading!
I thought the goddess cold, austere,
Not made for love's despairs and blisses:
Did Pallas wear her hair like that?
Was Wisdom's mouth so shaped for kisses?
The Nightingale should be her bird,
And not the Owl, big-eyed and solemn:
How very fresh she looks, and yet
She's older far than Trajan's Column!
The magic hand that carved this face,
And set this vine-work round it running,
Perhaps ere mighty Phidias wrought,
Had lost its subtle skill and cunning.
Who was he? Was he glad or sad,
Who knew to carve in such a fashion?
Perchance he graved the dainty head
For some brown girl that scorned his passion.
Perchance, in some still garden-place,
Where neither fount nor tree to-day is,
He flung the jewel at the feet
Of Phryne, or perhaps 'twas Lais.
But he is dust; we may not know
His happy or unhappy story:
Nameless, and dead these centuries,
His work outlives him,--there's his glory!
Both man and jewel lay in earth
Beneath a lava-buried city;
The countless summers came and went,
With neither haste, nor hate, nor pity.
Years blotted out the man, but left
The jewel fresh as any blossom,
Till some Visconti dug it up,--
To rise and fall on Mabel's bosom!
O nameless brother! see how Time
Your gracious handiwork has guarded:
See how your loving, patient art
Has come, at last, to be rewarded.
Who would not suffer slights of men,
And pangs of hopeless passion also,
To have his carven agate-stone
On such a bosom rise and fall so!
Thomas Bailey Aldrich [1837-1907]
THALIA
A Middle-aged Lyrical Poet Is supposed To Be Taking
Final Leave Of The Muse Of Comedy. She Has Brought
Him His Hat And Gloves, And Is Abstractedly Picking
A Thread Of Gold Hair From His Coat Sleeve As He
Begins To Speak:
I say it under the rose--
oh, thanks!--yes, under the laurel,
We part lovers, not foes;
we are not going to quarrel.
We have too long been friends
on foot and in gilded coaches,
Now that the whole thing ends,
to spoil our kiss with reproaches.
I leave you; my soul is wrung;
I pause, look back from the portal--
Ah, I no more am young,
and you, child, you are immortal!
Mine is the glacier's way,
yours is the blossom's weather--
When were December and May
known to be happy together?
Before my kisses grow tame,
before my moodiness grieve you,
While yet my heart is flame,
and I all lover, I leave you.
So, in the coming time,
when you count the rich years over,
Think of me in my prime,
and not as a white-haired lover,
Fretful, pierced with regret,
the wraith of a dead Desire
Thrumming a cracked spinet
by a slowly dying fire.
When, at last, I am cold--
years hence, if the gods so will it--
Say, "He was true as gold,"
and wear a rose in your fillet!
Others, tender as I,
will come and sue for caresses,
Woo you, win you, and die--
mind you, a rose in your tresses!
Some Melpomene woo,
some hold Clio the nearest;
You, sweet Comedy--you
were ever sweetest and dearest!
Nay, it is time to go.
When writing your tragic sister
Say to that child of woe
how sorry I was I missed her.
Really, I cannot stay,
though "parting is such sweet sorrow"...
Perhaps I will, on my way
down-town, look in to-morrow!
Thomas Bailey Aldrich [1837-1907]
PAN IN WALL STREET
A. D. 1867
Just where the Treasury's marble front
Looks over Wall Street's mingled nations;
Where Jews and Gentiles most are wont
To throng for trade and last quotations;
Where, hour by hour, the rates of gold
Outrival, in the ears of people,
The quarter-chimes, serenely tolled
From Trinity's undaunted steeple,--
Even there I heard a strange, wild strain
Sound high above the modern clamor,
Above the cries of greed and gain,
The curbstone war, the auction's hammer;
And swift, on Music's misty ways,
It led, from all this strife for millions,
To ancient, sweet-to-nothing days
Among the kirtle-robed Sicilians.
And as it stilled the multitude,
And yet more joyous rose, and shriller,
I saw the minstrel, where he stood
At ease against a Doric pillar:
One hand a droning organ played,
The other held a Pan's-pipe (fashioned
Like those of old) to lips that made
The reeds give out that strain impassioned.
'Twas Pan himself had wandered here
A-strolling through this sordid city,
And piping to the civic ear
The prelude of some pastoral ditty!
The demigod had crossed the seas,--
From haunts of shepherd, nymph, and satyr,
And Syracusan times,--to these
Far shores and twenty centuries later.
A ragged cap was on his head;
But--hidden thus--there was no doubting
That, all with crispy locks o'erspread,
His gnarled horns were somewhere sprouting;
His club-feet, cased in rusty shoes,
Were crossed, as on some frieze you see them,
And trousers, patched of divers hues,
Concealed his crooked shanks beneath them.
He filled the quivering reeds with sound,
And o'er his mouth their changes shifted,
And with his goat's-eyes looked around
Where'er the passing current drifted;
And soon, as on Trinacrian hills
The nymphs and herdsmen ran to hear him,
Even now the tradesmen from their tills,
With clerks and porters, crowded near him.
The bulls and bears together drew
From Jauncey Court and New Street Alley,
As erst, if pastorals be true,
Came beasts from every wooded valley;
The random passers stayed to list,--
A boxer Aegon, rough and merry,
A Broadway Daphnis, on his tryst
With Nais at the Brooklyn Ferry.
A one-eyed Cyclops halted long
In tattered cloak of army pattern,
And Galatea joined the throng,--
A blowsy, apple-vending slattern;
While old Silenus staggered out
From some new-fangled lunch-house handy,
And bade the piper, with a shout,
To strike up Yankee Doodle Dandy!
A newsboy and a peanut-girl
Like little Fauns began to caper:
His hair was all in tangled curl,
Her tawny legs were bare and taper;
And still the gathering larger grew,
And gave its pence and crowded nigher,
While aye the shepherd-minstrel blew
His pipe, and struck the gamut higher.
O heart of Nature, beating still
With throbs her vernal passion taught her,--
Even here, as on the vine-clad hill,
Or by the Arethusan water!
New forms may fold the speech, new lands
Arise within these ocean-portals,
But Music waves eternal wands,--
Enchantress of the souls of mortals!
So thought I,--but among us trod
A man in blue, with legal baton,
And scoffed the vagrant demigod,
And pushed him from the step I sat on.
Doubting I mused upon the cry,
"Great Pan is dead!"--and all the people
Went on their ways:--and clear and high
The quarter sounded from the steeple.
Edmund Clarence Stedman [1833-1908]
UPON LESBIA--ARGUING
My Lesbia, I will not deny,
Bewitches me completely;
She has the usual beaming eye,
And smiles upon me sweetly:
But she has an unseemly way
Of contradicting what I say.
And, though I am her closest friend,
And find her fascinating,
I cannot cordially commend
Her method of debating:
Her logic, though she is divine,
Is singularly feminine.
Her reasoning is full of tricks,
And butterfly suggestions,
I know no point to which she sticks,
She begs the simplest questions;
And, when her premises are strong,
She always draws her inference wrong.
Broad, liberal views on men and things
She will not hear a word of;
To prove herself correct she brings
Some instance she has heard of;
The argument ad hominem
Appears her favorite strategem.
Old Socrates, with sage replies
To questions put to suit him,
Would not, I think, have looked so wise
With Lesbia to confute him;
He would more probably have bade
Xantippe hasten to his aid.
Ah! well, my fair philosopher,
With clear brown eyes that glisten
So sweetly, that I much prefer
To look at them than listen,
Preach me your sermon: have your way,
The voice is yours, whate'er you say.
Alfred Cochrane [1865-
TO ANTHEA, WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANYTHING
(New Style)
Am I sincere? I say I dote
On everything that Browning wrote;
I know some bits by heart to quote:
But then She reads him.
I say--and is it strictly true?--
How I admire her cockatoo;
Well! in a way of course I do:
But then She feeds him.
And I become, at her command,
The sternest Tory in the land;
The Grand Old Man is far from grand;
But then She states it.
Nay! worse than that, I am so tame,
I once admitted--to my shame--
That football was a brutal game:
Because She hates it.
My taste in Art she hailed with groans,
And I, once charmed with bolder tones,
Now love the yellows of Burne-Jones:
But then She likes them.
My tuneful soul no longer hoards
Stray jewels from the Empire boards;
I revel now in Dvorak's chords:
But then She strikes them.
Our age distinctly cramps a knight;
Yet, though debarred from tilt and fight,
I can admit that black is white,
If She asserts it.
Heroes of old were luckier men
Than I--I venture now and then
To hint--retracting meekly when
She controverts it.
Alfred Cochrane [1865-
THE EIGHT-DAY CLOCK
The days of Bute and Grafton's fame,
Of Chatham's waning prime,
First heard your sounding gong proclaim
Its chronicle of Time;
Old days when Dodd confessed his guilt,
When Goldsmith drave his quill,
And genial gossip Horace built
His house on Strawberry Hill.
Now with a grave unmeaning face
You still repeat the tale,
High-towering in your somber case,
Designed by Chippendale;
Without regret for what is gone,
You bid old customs change,
As year by year you travel on
To scenes and voices strange.
We might have mingled with the crowd
Of courtiers in this hall,
The fans that swayed, the wigs that bowed,
But you have spoiled it all;
We might have lingered in the train
Of nymphs that Reynolds drew,
Or stared spell-bound in Drury Lane
At Garrick--but for you.
We might in Leicester Fields have swelled
The throng of beaux and cits,
Or listened to the concourse held
Among the Kitcat wits;
Have strolled with Selwyn in Pall Mall,
Arrayed in gorgeous silks,
Or in Great George Street raised a yell
For Liberty and Wilkes.
This is the life which you have known,
Which you have ticked away,
In one unmoved unfaltering tone
That ceased not day by day,
While ever round your dial moved
Your hands from span to span,
Through drowsy hours and hours that proved
Big with the fate of man.
A steady tick for fatal creeds,
For youth on folly bent,
A steady tick for worthy deeds,
And moments wisely spent;
No warning note of emphasis,
No whisper of advice,
To ruined rake or flippant miss,
For coquetry or dice.
You might, I think, have hammered out
With meaning doubly dear,
The midnight of a Vauxhall rout
In Evelina's ear;
Or when the night was almost gone,
You might, the deals between,
Have startled those who looked upon
The cloth when it was green.
But no, in all the vanished years
Down which your wheels have run,
Your message borne to heedless ears
Is one and only one--
No wit of men, no power of kings,
Can stem the overthrow
Wrought by this pendulum that swings
Sedately to and fro.
Alfred Cochrane [1865-
A PORTRAIT
In sunny girlhood's vernal life
She caused no small sensation,
But now the modest English wife
To others leaves flirtation.
She's young still, lovely, debonair,
Although sometimes her features
Are clouded by a thought of care
For those two tiny creatures.
Each tiny, toddling, mottled mite
Asserts with voice emphatic,
In lisping accents, "Mite is right,"
Their rule is autocratic:
The song becomes, that charmed mankind,
Their musical narcotic,
And baby lips than Love, she'll find,
Are even more despotic.
Soft lullaby when singing there,
And castles ever building,
Their destiny she'll carve in air,
Bright with maternal gilding:
Young Guy, a clever advocate,
So eloquent and able!
A powdered wig upon his pate,
A coronet for Mabel!
Joseph Ashby-Sterry [1838-1917]
"OLD BOOKS ARE BEST"
Old Books are best! With what delight
Does "Faithorne fecit" greet our sight
On frontispiece or title-page
Of that old time, when on the stage
"Sweet Nell" set "Rowley's" heart alight!
And you, O Friend, to whom I write,
Must not deny, e'en though you might,
Through fear of modern pirates' rage,
Old Books are best.
What though the print be not so bright,
The paper dark, the binding slight?
Our author, be he dull or sage,
Returning from that distant age
So lives again, we say of right:
Old Books are best.
Beverly Chew [1850-1924]
IMPRESSION
In these restrained and careful times
Our knowledge petrifies our rhymes;
Ah! for that reckless fire men had
When it was witty to be mad;
When wild conceits were piled in scores,
And lit by flaming metaphors,
When all was crazed and out of tune,--
Yet throbbed with music of the moon.
If we could dare to write as ill
As some whose voices haunt us still,
Even we, perchance, might call our own
Their deep enchanting undertone.
We are too diffident and nice,
Too learned and too over-wise,
Too much afraid of faults to be
The flutes of bold sincerity.
For, as this sweet life passes by,
We blink and nod with critic eye;
We've no words rude enough to give
Its charm so frank and fugitive.
The green and scarlet of the Park,
The undulating streets at dark,
The brown smoke blown across the blue,
This colored city we walk through;--
The pallid faces full of pain,
The field-smell of the passing wain,
The laughter, longing, perfume, strife,
The daily spectacle of life;--
Ah! how shall this be given to rhyme,
By rhymesters of a knowing time?
Ah! for the age when verse was clad,
Being godlike, to be bad and mad.
Edmund Gosse [1849-1928]
"WITH STRAWBERRIES"
With strawberries we filled a tray,
And then we drove away, away
Along the links beside the sea,
Where wave and wind were light and free,
And August felt as fresh as May,
And where the springy turf was gay
With thyme and balm and many a spray
Of wild roses, you tempted me
With strawberries!
A shadowy sail, silent and gray,
Stole like a ghost across the bay;
But none could hear me ask my fee,
And none could know what came to be.
Can sweethearts all their thirst allay
With strawberries?
William Ernest Henley [1849-1903]
BALLADE OF LADIES' NAMES
Brown's for Lalage, Jones for Lelia,
Robinson's bosom for Beatrice glows,
Smith is a Hamlet before Ophelia.
The glamor stays if the reason goes!
Every lover the years disclose
Is of a beautiful name made free.
One befriends, and all others are foes.
Anna's the name of names for me.
Sentiment hallows the vowels of Delia;
Sweet simplicity breathes from Rose;
Courtly memories glitter in Celia;
Rosalind savors of quips and hose,
Araminta of wits and beaux,
Prue of puddings, and Coralie
All of sawdust and spangled shows;
Anna's the name of names for me.
Fie upon Caroline, Madge, Amelia--
These I reckon the essence of prose!--
Cavalier Katherine, cold Cornelia,
Portia's masterful Roman nose,
Maud's magnificence, Totty's toes,
Poll and Bet with their twang of the sea,
Nell's impertinence, Pamela's woes!
Anna's the name of names for me.
ENVOY
Ruth like a gillyflower smells and blows,
Sylvia prattles of Arcadee,
Sybil mystifies, Connie crows,
Anna's the name of names for me!
William Ernest Henley [1849-1903]
TO A PAIR OF EGYPTIAN SLIPPERS
Tiny slippers of gold and green,
Tied with a mouldering golden cord!
What pretty feet they must have been
When Caesar Augustus was Egypt's lord!
Somebody graceful and fair you were!
Not many girls could dance in these!
When did your shoemaker make you, dear,
Such a nice pair of Egyptian "threes"?
Where were you measured? In Sais, or On,
Memphis, or Thebes, or Pelusium?
Fitting them neatly your brown toes upon,
Lacing them deftly with finger and thumb,
I seem to see you!--so long ago,
Twenty-one centuries, less or more!
And here are your sandals: yet none of us know
What name, or fortune, or face you bore.
Your lips would have laughed, with a rosy scorn,
If the merchant, or slave-girl, had mockingly said,
"The feet will pass, but the shoes they have worn
Two thousand years onward Time's road shall tread,
And still be footgear as good as new!"
To think that calf-skin, gilded and stitched,
Should Rome and the Pharaohs outlive--and you
Be gone, like a dream, from the world you bewitched!
Not that we mourn you! 'Twere too absurd!
You have been such a very long while away!
Your dry spiced dust would not value one word
Of the soft regrets that my verse could say.
Sorrow and Pleasure, and Love and Hate,
If you ever felt them, have vaporized hence
To this odor--so subtle and delicate--
Of myrrh, and cassia, and frankincense.
Of course they embalmed you! Yet not so sweet
Were aloes and nard, as the youthful glow
Which Amenti stole when the small dark feet
Wearied of treading our world below.
Look! it was flood-time in valley of Nile,
Or a very wet day in the Delta, dear!
When your slippers tripped lightly their latest mile--
The mud on the soles renders that fact clear.
You knew Cleopatra, no doubt! You saw
Antony's galleys from Actium come.
But there! if questions could answers draw
From lips so many a long age dumb,
I would not tease you with history,
Nor vex your heart for the men that were;
The one point to learn that would fascinate me
Is, where and what are you to-day, my dear!
You died, believing in Horus and Pasht,
Isis, Osiris, and priestly lore;
And found, of course, such theories smashed
By actual fact on the heavenly shore.
What next did you do? Did you transmigrate?
Have we seen you since, all modern and fresh?
Your charming soul--so I calculate--
Mislaid its mummy, and sought new flesh.
Were you she whom I met at dinner last week,
With eyes and hair of the Ptolemy black,
Who still of this find in Fayoum would speak,
And to Pharaohs and scarabs still carry us back?
A scent of lotus about her hung,
And she had such a far-away wistful air
As of somebody born when the Earth was young;
And she wore of gilt slippers a lovely pair.
Perchance you were married? These might have been
Part of your trousseau--the wedding shoes;
And you laid them aside with the garments green,
And painted clay Gods which a bride would use;
And, may be, to-day, by Nile's bright waters
Damsels of Egypt in gowns of blue--
Great-great-great--very great--grand-daughters
Owe their shapely insteps to you!
But vainly I beat at the bars of the Past,
Little green slippers with golden strings!
For all you can tell is that leather will last
When loves, and delightings, and beautiful things
Have vanished; forgotten--No! not quite that!
I catch some gleam of the grace you wore
When you finished with Life's daily pit-a-pat,
And left your shoes at Death's bedroom door.
You were born in the Egypt which did not doubt;
You were never sad with our new-fashioned sorrows:
You were sure, when your play-days on Earth ran out,
Of play-times to come, as we of our morrows!
Oh, wise little Maid of the Delta! I lay
Your shoes in your mummy-chest back again,
And wish that one game we might merrily play
At "Hunt the Slippers"--to see it all plain.
Edwin Arnold [1832-1904]
WITHOUT AND WITHIN
My coachman, in the moonlight there,
Looks through the side-light of the door;
I hear him with his brethren swear,
As I could do,--but only more.
Flattening his nose against the pane,
He envies me my brilliant lot,
Breathes on his aching fists in vain,
And dooms me to a place more hot.
He sees me in to supper go,
A silken wonder by my side,
Bare arms, bare shoulders, and a row
Of flounces, for the door too wide.
He thinks how happy is my arm
'Neath its white-gloved and jewelled load;
And wishes me some dreadful harm,
Hearing the merry corks explode.
Meanwhile I inly curse the bore
Of hunting still the same old coon,
And envy him, outside the door,
In golden quiets of the moon.
The winter wind is not so cold
As the bright smile he sees me win
Nor the host's oldest wine so old
As our poor gabble sour and thin.
I envy him the ungyved prance
With which his freezing feet he warms,
And drag my lady's-chains and dance
The galley-slave of dreary forms.
Oh, could, he have my share of din,
And I his quiet!--past a doubt
'Twould still be one man bored within,
And just another bored without.
Nay, when, once paid my mortal fee,
Some idler on my headstone grim
Traces the moss-blurred name, will he
Think me the happier, or I him?
James Russell Lowell [1819-1891]
"SHE WAS A BEAUTY"
She was a beauty in the days
When Madison was President,
And quite coquettish in her ways,--
On conquests of the heart intent.
Grandpapa, on his right knee bent,
Wooed her in stiff, old-fashioned phrase,--
She was a beauty in the days
When Madison was President.
And when your roses where hers went
Shall go, my Rose, who date from Hayes,
I hope you'll wear her sweet content
Of whom tradition lightly says:
She was a beauty in the days
When Madison was President.
Henry Cuyler Bunner [1855-1896]
NELL GWYNNE'S LOOKING-GLASS
Glass antique, 'twixt thee and Nell
Draw we here a parallel.
She, like thee, was forced to bear
All reflections, foul or fair.
Thou art deep and bright within,
Depths as bright belonged to Gwynne;
Thou art very frail as well,
Frail as flesh is,--so was Nell.
Thou, her glass, art silver-lined,
She too, had a silver mind:
Thine is fresh till this far day,
Hers till death ne'er wore away:
Thou dost to thy surface win
Wandering glances, so did Gwynne;
Eyes on thee love long to dwell,
So men's eyes would do on Nell.
Life-like forms in thee are sought,
Such the forms the actress wrought;
Truth unfailing rests in you,
Nell, whate'er she was, was true.
Clear as virtue, dull as sin,
Thou art oft, as oft was Gwynne;
Breathe on thee, and drops will swell:
Bright tears dimmed the eyes of Nell.
Thine's a frame to charm the sight,
Framed was she to give delight;
Waxen forms here truly show
Charles above and Nell below;
But between them, chin with chin,
Stuart stands as low as Gwynne,--
Paired, yet parted,--meant to tell
Charles was opposite to Nell.
Round the glass wherein her face
Smiled so soft, her "arms" we trace;
Thou, her mirror, hast the pair,
Lion here, and leopard there.
She had part in these,--akin
To the lion-heart was Gwynne;
And the leopard's beauty fell
With its spots to bounding Nell.
Oft inspected, ne'er seen through,
Thou art firm, if brittle too;
So her will, on good intent,
Might be broken, never bent.
What the glass was, when therein
Beamed the face of glad Nell Gwynne,
Was that face by beauty's spell
To the honest soul of Nell.
Laman Blanchard [1804-1845]
MIMNERMUS IN CHURCH
You promise heavens free from strife,
Pure truth, and perfect change of will;
But sweet, sweet is this human life,
So sweet, I fain would breathe it still:
Your chilly stars I can forego,
This warm kind world is all I know.
You say there is no substance here,
One great reality above:
Back from that void I shrink in fear,
And child-like hide myself in love:
Show me what angels feel. Till then
I cling, a mere weak man, to men.
You bid me lift my mean desires
From faltering lips and fitful veins
To sexless souls, ideal choirs,
Unwearied voices, wordless strains:
My mind with fonder welcome owns
One dear dead friend's remembered tones.
Forsooth the present we must give
To that which cannot pass away;
All beauteous things for which we live
By laws of time and space decay.
But oh, the very reason why
I clasp them, is because they die.
William Johnson-Cory [1823-1892]
CLAY
"We are but clay," the preacher saith;
"The heart is clay, and clay the brain,
And soon or late there cometh death
To mingle us with earth again."
Well, let the preacher have it so,
And clay we are, and clay shall be;--
Why iterate?--for this I know,
That clay does very well for me.
When clay has such red mouths to kiss,
Firm hands to grasp, it is enough:
How can I take it aught amiss
We are not made of rarer stuff?
And if one tempt you to believe
His choice would be immortal gold,
Question him, Can you then conceive
A warmer heart than clay can hold?
Or richer joys than clay can feel?
And when perforce he falters nay,
Bid him renounce his wish and kneel
In thanks for this same kindly clay.
Edward Verrall Lucas [1868-
AUCASSIN AND NICOLETE
What magic halo rings thy head,
Dream-maiden of a minstrel dead?
What charm of faerie round thee hovers,
That all who listen are thy lovers?
What power yet makes our pulses thrill
To see thee at thy window-sill,
And by that dangerous cord down-sliding,
And through the moonlit garden gliding?
True maiden art thou in thy dread;
True maiden in thy hardihead;
True maiden when, thy fears half-over,
Thou lingerest to try thy lover.
And ah! what heart of stone or steel
But doth some stir unwonted feel,
When to the day new brightness bringing
Thou standest at the stair-foot singing!
Thy slender limbs in boyish dress,
Thy tones half glee, half tenderness,
Thou singest, 'neath the light tale's cover,
Of thy true love to thy true lover.
O happy lover, happy maid,
Together in sweet story laid;
Forgive the hand that here is baring
Your old loves for new lovers' staring!
Yet, Nicolete, why fear'st thou fame?
No slander now can touch thy name,
Nor Scandal's self a fault discovers,
Though each new year thou hast new lovers.
Nor, Aucassin, need'st thou to fear
These lovers of too late a year,
Nor dread one jealous pang's revival;
No lover now can be thy rival.
What flower considers if its blooms
Light, haunts of men, or forest glooms?
What care ye though the world discovers
Your flowers of love, O flower of lovers!
Francis William Bourdillon [1852-1921]
PROVENCAL LOVERS
Aucassin And Nicolette
Within the garden of Beaucaire
He met her by a secret stair,--
The night was centuries ago.
Said Aucassin, "My love, my pet,
These old confessors vex me so!
They threaten all the pains of hell
Unless I give you up, ma belle";--
Said Aucassin to Nicolette.
"Now who should there in Heaven be
To fill your place, ma tres-douce mie?
To reach that spot I little care!
There all the droning priests are met;
All the old cripples, too, are there
That unto shrines and altars cling
To filch the Peter-pence we bring";--
Said Aucassin to Nicolette.
"There are the barefoot monks and friars
With gowns well tattered by the briars,
The saints who lift their eyes and whine:
I like them not--a starveling set!
Who'd care with folk like these to dine?
The other road 'twere just as well
That you and I should take, ma belle!"--
Said Aucassin to Nicolette.
"To purgatory I would go
With pleasant comrades whom we know,
Fair scholars, minstrels, lusty knights
Whose deeds the land will not forget,
The captains of a hundred fights,
The men of valor and degree:
We'll join that gallant company,"--
Said Aucassin to Nicolette.
"There, too, are jousts and joyance rare,
And beauteous ladies debonair,
The pretty dames, the merry brides,
Who with their wedded lords coquette
And have a friend or two besides,--
And all in gold and trappings gay,
With furs, and crests in vair and gray,"--
Said Aucassin to Nicolette.
"Sweet players on the cithern strings,
And they who roam the world like kings,
Are gathered there, so blithe and free!
Pardie! I'd join them now, my pet,
If you went also, ma douce mie!
The joys of Heaven I'd forego
To have you with me there below,"--
Said Aucassin to Nicolette.
Edmund Clarence Stedman [1833-1908]
ON THE HURRY OF THIS TIME
With slower pen men used to write,
Of old, when "letters" were "polite";
In Anna's or in George's days,
They could afford to turn a phrase,
Or trim a struggling theme aright.
They knew not steam; electric light
Not yet had dazed their calmer sight;--
They meted out both blame and praise
With slower pen.
Too swiftly now the Hours take flight!
What's read at morn is dead at night:
Scant space have we for Art's delays,
Whose breathless thought so briefly stays,
We may not work--ah! would we might!--
With slower pen.
Austin Dobson [1840-1921]
"GOOD-NIGHT, BABETTE!"
Si vieillesse pouvait!--
Scene.--A small neat Room. In a high Voltaire Chair
sits a white-haired old Gentleman.
Monsieur Vieuxbois Babette
M. Vieuxbois (turning querulously)
Day of my life! Where can she get!
Babette! I say! Babette!--Babette!
Babette (entering hurriedly)
Coming, M'sieu'! If M'sieu' speaks
So loud, he won't be well for weeks!
M. Vieuxbois
Where have you been?
Babette
Why M'sieu' knows:--
April!... Ville d'Avray!... Ma'am'selle Rose!
M. Vieuxbois
Ah! I am old,--and I forget.
Was the place growing green, Babette?
Babette
But of a greenness!--yes, M'sieu'!
And then the sky so blue!--so blue!
And when I dropped my immortelle,
How the birds sang!
(Lifting her apron to her eyes)
This poor Ma'am'selle!
M. Vieuxbois
You're a good girl, Babette, but she,--
She was an Angel, verily.
Sometimes I think I see her yet
Stand smiling by the cabinet;
And once, I know, she peeped and laughed
Betwixt the curtains...
Where's the draught?
(She gives him a cup)
Now I shall sleep, I think, Babette;--
Sing me your Norman chansonnette.
Babette (sings)
"Once at the Angelus,
(Ere I was dead),
Angels all glorious
Came to my bed;
Angels in blue and white
Crowned on the Head."
M. Vieuxbois (drowsily)
"She was an Angel"... "Once she laughed"...
What, was I dreaming?
Where's the draught?
Babette (showing the empty cup)
The draught, M'sieu'?
M. Vieuxbois
How I forget!
I am so old! But sing, Babette!
Babette (sings)
"One was the Friend I left
Stark in the Snow;
One was the Wife that died
Long,--long ago;
One was the Love I lost...
How could she know?"
M. Vieuxbois (murmuring)
Ah, Paul!... old Paul!... Eulalie too!
And Rose... And O! "the sky so blue!"
Babette (sings)
"One had my Mother's eyes,
Wistful and mild;
One had my Father's face;
One was a Child:
All of them bent to me,--
Bent down and smiled!"
(He is asleep!)
M. Vieuxbois (almost inaudibly)
"How I forget!"
"I am so old!"... "Good-night, Babette!"
Austin Dobson [1840-1921]
A DIALOGUE FROM PLATO
Le tempo le mieux employe est celui qu'on perd.--Claude Tillier
I'd "read" three hours. Both notes and text
Were fast a mist becoming;
In bounced a vagrant bee, perplexed,
And filled the room with humming,
Then out. The casement's leafage sways,
And, parted light, discloses
Miss Di., with hat and book,--a maze
Of muslin mixed with roses.
"You're reading Greek?" "I am--and you?"
"O, mine's a mere romancer!"
"So Plato is." "Then read him--do;
And I'll read mine for answer."
I read: "My Plato (Plato, too--
That wisdom thus should harden!)
Declares 'blue eyes look doubly blue
Beneath a Dolly Varden.'"
She smiled. "My book in turn avers
(No author's name is stated)
That sometimes those Philosophers
Are sadly mistranslated."
"But hear,--the next's in stronger style:
The Cynic School asserted
That two red lips which part and smile
May not be controverted!"
She smiled once more. "My book, I find,
Observes some modern doctors
Would make the Cynics out a kind
Of album-verse concoctors."
Then I: "Why not? 'Ephesian law,
No less than time's tradition,
Enjoined fair speech on all who saw
Diana's apparition."
She blushed,--this time. "If Plato's page
No wiser precept teaches,
Then I'd renounce that doubtful sage,
And walk to Burnham Beeches."
"Agreed," I said. "For Socrates
(I find he too is talking)
Thinks Learning can't remain at ease
When Beauty goes a-walking."
She read no more. I leapt the sill:
The sequel's scarce essential--
Nay, more than this, I hold it still
Profoundly confidential.
Austin Dobson [1840-1921]
THE LADIES OF ST. JAMES'S
A Proper New Ballad Of The Country And The Town
Phyllida amo ante alias.--Virgil
The ladies of St. James's
Go swinging to the play;
Their footmen run before them,
With a "Stand by! Clear the way!"
But Phyllida, my Phyllida!
She takes her buckled shoon,
When we go out a-courting
Beneath the harvest moon.
The ladies of St. James's
Wear satin on their backs;
They sit all night at Ombre,
With candles all of wax:
But Phyllida, my Phyllida!
She dons her russet gown,
And runs to gather May dew
Before the world is down.
The ladies of St. James's!
They are so fine and fair,
You'd think a box of essences
Was broken in the air:
But Phyllida, my Phyllida!
The breath of heath and furze
When breezes blow at morning,
Is not so fresh as hers.
The ladies of St. James's!
They're painted to the eyes;
Their white it stays for ever,
Their red it never dies:
But Phyllida, my Phyllida!
Her color comes and goes;
It trembles to a lily,--
It wavers to a rose.
The ladies of St. James's!
You scarce can understand
The half of all their speeches,
Their phrases are so grand:
But Phyllida, my Phyllida!
Her shy and simple words
Are clear as after rain-drops
The music of the birds.
The ladies of St. James's!
They have their fits and freaks;
They smile on you--for seconds,
They frown on you--for weeks:
But Phyllida, my Phyllida!
Come either storm or shine,
From Shrove-tide unto Shrove-tide,
Is always true--and mine.
My Phyllida! my Phyllida!
I care not though they heap
The hearts of all St. James's,
And give me all to keep;
I care not whose the beauties
Of all the world may be,
For Phyllida--for Phyllida
Is all the world to me!
Austin Dobson [1840-1921]
THE CURE'S PROGRESS
Monsieur the Cure down the street
Comes with his kind old face,--
With his coat worn bare, and his straggling hair,
And his green umbrella-case.
You may see him pass by the little "Grande Place",
And the tiny "Hotel-de-Ville";
He smiles, as he goes, to the fleuriste Rose,
And the pompier Theophile.
He turns, as a rule, through the "Marche" cool,
Where the noisy fish-wives call;
And his compliment pays to the "Belle Therese",
As she knits in her dusky stall.
There's a letter to drop at the locksmith's shop,
And Toto, the locksmith's niece,
Has jubilant hopes, for the Cure gropes
In his tails for a pain d'epice.
There's a little dispute with a merchant of fruit,
Who is said to be heterodox,
That will ended be with a "Ma foi, oui!"
And a pinch from the Cure's box.
There is also a word that no one heard
To the furrier's daughter Lou.;
And a pale cheek fed with a flickering red,
And a "Ben Dieu garde M'sieu'!"
But a grander way for the Sous-Prefet,
And a bow for Ma'am'selle Anne;
And a mock "off-hat" to the Notary's cat,
And a nod to the Sacristan:--
For ever through life the Cure goes
With a smile on his kind old face--
With his coat worn bare, and his straggling hair,
And his green umbrella-case.
Austin Dobson [1840-1921]
A GENTLEMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL
He lived in that past Georgian day,
When men were less inclined to say
That "Time is Gold," and overlay
With toil their pleasure;
He held some land, and dwelt thereon,--
Where, I forget,--the house is gone;
His Christian name, I think, was John,--
His surname, Leisure.
Reynolds has painted him,--a face
Filled with a fine, old-fashioned grace,
Fresh-colored, frank, with ne'er a trace
Of trouble shaded;
The eyes are blue, the hair is dressed
In plainest way,--one hand is pressed
Deep in a flapped canary vest,
With buds brocaded.
He wears a brown old Brunswick coat,
With silver buttons,--round his throat,
A soft cravat;--in all you note
An elder fashion,--
A strangeness, which, to us who shine
In shapely hats,--whose coats combine
All harmonies of hue and line,
Inspires compassion.
He lived so long ago, you see!
Men were untravelled then, but we,
Like Ariel, post o'er land and sea
With careless parting;
He found it quite enough for him
To smoke his pipe in "garden trim,"
And watch, about the fish tank's brim,
The swallows darting.
He liked the well-wheel's creaking tongue,--
He liked the thrush that fed her young,--
He liked the drone of flies among
His netted peaches;
He liked to watch the sunlight fall
Athwart his ivied orchard wall;
Or pause to catch the cuckoo's call
Beyond the beeches.
His were the times of Paint and Patch,
And yet no Ranelagh could match
The sober doves that round his thatch
Spread tails and sidled;
He liked their ruffling, puffed content;
For him their drowsy wheelings meant
More than a Mall of Beaux that bent,
Or Belles that bridled.
Not that, in truth, when life began
He shunned the flutter of the fan;
He too had maybe "pinked his man"
In Beauty's quarrel;
But now his "fervent youth" had flown
Where lost things go; and he was grown
As staid and slow-paced as his own
Old hunter, Sorrel.
Yet still he loved the chase, and held
That no composer's score excelled
The merry horn, when Sweetlip swelled
Its jovial riot;
But most his measured words of praise
Caressed the angler's easy ways,--
His idly meditative days,--
His rustic diet.
Not that his "meditating" rose
Beyond a sunny summer doze;
He never troubled his repose
Wit
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