A Ballade Of Waiting.
No girdle hath weaver or goldsmith wrought
So rich as the arms of my love can be;
No gems with a lovelier lustre fraught
Than her eyes, when they answer me liquidly.
Dear lady of love, be kind to me...
A Ballad Of London - (To H. W. Massinsham)
Richard Le Gallienne
Ah, London! London! our delight,
Great flower that opens but at night,
Great City of the Midnight Sun,
Whose day begins when day is done.
Lamp after lamp against the sky...
A Ballad Of The Town Water
Robert Fuller Murray
It is the Police Commissioners,
All on a winter's day;
And they to prove the town water
Have set themselves away.
They went to the north, they went to the south,
And into the west went they,...
A Ballad Of Woman
Richard Le Gallienne
(Gratefully Dedicated to Mrs. Pankhurst)
She bore us in her dreaming womb,
And laughed into the face of Death;
She laughed, in her strange agony, -
To give her little baby breath.
A Ballad, Shewing How An Old Woman Rode Double, And Who Rode Before Her.
The Raven croak'd as she sate at her meal,
And the Old Woman knew what he said,
And she grew pale at the Raven's tale,
And sicken'd and went to her bed.
A Ballad With A Serious Conclusion
James Whitcomb Riley
Crowd about me, little children -
Come and cluster 'round my knee
While I tell a little story
That happened once with me.
My father he had gone away
A-sailing on the foam,...
Abide With Us
Nancy Rebecca Campbell Glass
"Abide with us!" Where could we go?
Thou art our strength, thou art our tower,
Our refuge from the ills below,
In darkness light, in weakness power.
"Abide with us!" We would prevail,...
A Bird From The West
Dora Sigerson Shorter
At the grey dawn, amongst the felling leaves,
A little bird outside my window swung,
High on a topmost branch he trilled his song,
And 'Ireland! Ireland! Ireland!' ever sung.
A Birthday Walk.
(WRITTEN FOR A FRIEND'S BIRTHDAY.)
"The days of our life are threescore years and ten."
A birthday: - and a day that rose
With much of hope, with meaning rife -...
Who know thee, love: thy life be such
That, ere the year be o'er,
Each one who loves thee now so much,
Even God, may love thee more!
Abner And The Widow Jones, - A Familiar Ballad.
Well! I'm determin'd; that's enough: -
Gee, Bayard! move your poor old bones,
I'll take to-morrow, smooth or rough,
To go and court the Widow Jones.
Our master talks of stable-room,...
A Botticelli Madonna I The Wondering Angels
Ethel Allen Murphy
Behold! the Tabernacle of God's Will
This woman's form enshrineth. What is this,
More glorious than all our age-long bliss,
Which shines within the shadow of her sill?...
About Emma Lazarus. (Written For "The Century Magazine")
Born July 22, 1849; Died November 19, 1887.
One hesitates to lift the veil and throw the light upon a life so
hidden and a personality so withdrawn as that of Emma Lazarus; but...
Abraham Lincoln Walks at Midnight
(In Springfield, Illinois)
It is portentous, and a thing of state
That here at midnight, in our little town
A mourning figure walks, and will not rest,...
A Canticle: Significant of the national exaltation of enthusiasm at the close of the War.
O the precipice Titanic
Of the congregated Fall,
And the angle oceanic
Where the deepening thunders call -
And the Gorge so grim,
And the firmamental rim!
A Carol Presented To Dr. Williams, Bishop Of Lincoln As A New-Year's Gift.
Fly hence, pale care, no more remember
Past sorrows with the fled December,
But let each pleasant cheek appear
Smooth as the childhood of the year,
And sing a carol here....
Accepted And Will Appear
One evening while reclining
In my easy-chair, repining
O'er the lack of true religion, and the dearth of common sense,
A solemn visaged lady,
Who was surely on the shady...
According To The Mighty Working
When moiling seems at cease
In the vague void of night-time,
And heaven's wide roomage stormless
Between the dusk and light-time,
And fear at last is formless,
We call the allurement Peace....
A Cenotaph, - To The Memory Of Lieutenant-Colonel Isaac, Who Died At Cape St Nichola Mole, 1797.
William Lyle Bowles
Oh, hadst thou fall'n, brave youth! on that proud day,
When our victorious fleet o'er the red surge
Rolled in terrific glory, thou hadst fall'n
Most honoured; and Remembrance, while she thought...
A Child Said, What Is The Grass?
A child said, What is the grass? fetching it to me with full hands;
How could I answer the child?. . . .I do not know what it is any more than he.