Works

Fury of chrysalis, or crepuscular caterpillar's roosting nest,
Fidgeting cocoon dry in annoyance and the reptile caress
Of empty sound.
See it near the trestle,
Above broad November leaves,...

1. Long, long has the Orient-Jew spun around his helplessness the cunningly enmeshed web of Talmud and Kabbala.
...

They lift their faces to the light,
And aye they are a gallant band;
The queen of all is snowy white -
A stately thing, and tall and grand.

See, close beside, in yellow drest,...

Just above yon sandy bar,
As the day grows fainter and dimmer,
Lonely and lovely, a single star
Lights the air with a dusky glimmer

Into the ocean faint and far...

God rest you, Chrysten gentil men,
Wherever you may be,--
God rest you all in fielde or hall,
Or on ye stormy sea;
For on this morn oure Chryst is born
That saveth you and me.
...

Or beasts there have been chosen four

To come to Paradise,
And there with saints for evermore

They dwell in happy wise.

Amongst them all the Ass stands first;
...

AFTER THE BATTLE OF BADE, BENEATH THE CANOPY OF HEAVEN.


MAHOMET (Speaks).

Let the foeman sorrow o'er his dead,

Ne'er will they return again to light;...

Six among the courtiers favour'd
Fly before the Caesar's fury,
Who would as a god be worshipp'd,
Though in truth no god appearing,
For a fly prevents him ever
From enjoying food at table....

Here is fresh matter, poet,
Matter for old age meet;
Might of the Church and the State,
Their mobs put under their feet.
O but heart's wine shall run pure,
Mind's bread grow sweet....

Sir--A well-known classical traveller, while employed in exploring, some time since, the supposed site of the Temple of Diana of Ephesus, was so fortunate, in the course of his researches, as to light upon a very ancient bark m...

A Fact Literally Rendered.[60]

I stood beside the grave of him who blazed
The Comet of a season, and I saw
The humblest of all sepulchres, and gazed
With not the less of sorrow and of awe...

Cicely says you're a poet; maybe, I ain't much on rhyme:
I reckon you'd give me a hundred, and beat me every time.
Poetry! that's the way some chaps puts up an idee,...

The white pin wheel of heat turns up the grasses' edge.
Some dried plant stalks shrivel,
then melt openly into layers of fire.
It is end - time for the community's Christmas trees.
...

A lonely child, with toil o'ertaxed,
Sits Cinderella by the fire;
Her limbs in weariness relaxed,
And in her eyes a sad desire.
But soon a wreath is on her brow;
A bonny prince has claimed her hand;...

Versified by Mrs. Clara Doty Bates.


Poor, pretty little thing she was,
The sweetest-faced of girls,
With eyes as blue as larkspurs,
And a mass of tossing curls;...

Nature centres into balls,
And her proud ephemerals,
Fast to surface and outside,
Scan the profile of the sphere;
Knew they what that signified,
A new genesis were here.

Talk not to me of souls that do conceive
Sublime ideals, but, deterred by Fate
And bound by circumstances, sit desolate,
And long for heights they never can achieve.
...

Two children in two neighbor villages
Playing mad pranks along the heathy leas;
Two strangers meeting at a festival;
Two lovers whispering by an orchard wall:
Two lives bound fast in one with golden ease;...

Tim Murphy's gon' walkin' wid Maggie O'Neill,
O chone!
If I was her muther, I'd frown on sich foolin',
O chone!
I'm sure it's unmutherlike, darin' an' wrong...

She does not mind a good cigar
(The kind, that is, I smoke);
She thinks all men quite stupid are,
(But laughs whene'er I joke).

She says she does not care for verse
(But praises all I write);...