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The Roll Of Roly Poly Roy

© Carolyn Wells

Once on a time a lad I knew--

His sister called him Bubby;

The isles of Greece, the Isles of Greece!
Where burning Sappho loved and sung,
Where grew the arts of war and peace,
Where Delos rose, and Phoebus sprung!
Eternal summer gilds them yet,
But all, except their sun, is set.

When I Was Ill

© Johannes Ewald

Beatus ille, qui procul negotiis Horace:

The Example of Vertu : Cantos VIII.-XIV.

© Stephen Hawes

Capitalum VIII.
Dame Sapyence taryed a lytell whyle
Behynd the other saynge to Dyscrecyon
And began on her to laugh and smyle

Bee-Master

© Victoria Mary Sackville-West

I have known honey from the Syrian hills

Stored in cool jars; the wild acacia there

English Eclogues IV - The Sailor's Mother

© Robert Southey

WOMAN.
Sir for the love of God some small relief
To a poor woman!

The Black Virgin

© Gilbert Keith Chesterton

One in thy thousand statues we salute thee

On all thy thousand thrones acclaim and claim

Upon the Kings happy return from Scotland

© Henry King

So breaks the day when the returning Sun
Hath newly through his Winter Tropick run,
As You (Great Sir!) in this regress come forth
From the remoter Climate of the North.

Perdita

© Jean Ingelow

I go beyond the commandment.'
So be it. Then mine be the blame,
The loss, the lack, the yearning, till life's last sand be run,-
I go beyond the commandment, yet honour stands fast with her claim,
And what I have rued I shall rue; for what I have done-I have done.

Victories Of The Heart

© Anonymous

There's not a stately hall,

There's not a cottage fair,

School

© Percy MacKaye

I

Old Hezekiah leaned hard on his hoe

A Retrospect

© Frances Anne Kemble

Life wanes, and the bright sunlight of our youth

Sets o'er the mountain-tops, where once Hope stood.

The Little Left Hand - Act I

© Wilfrid Scawen Blunt

Place
A Country Town in England.

An English Girl

© William Schwenck Gilbert

A wonderful joy our eyes to bless,

In her magnificent comeliness,

Gallipoli

Isles of the Aegean, Troy, and waters of Hellespont!
You we have known from of old,
Since boyhood stammering glorious Greek was entranced
In the tale that Homer told.

What Have We All Forgotten?

© Henry Lawson

WHAT have we all forgotten, at the break of the seventh year?
With a nation born to the ages and a Bad Time borne on its bier!
Public robbing, and lying that death cannot erase
Private strife and deceptionCover the bad dead face!
Drinking, gambling and madnessCover and bear it away
But what have we all forgotten at the dawn of the seventh day?

The Boy's Ideal

I must be fit for a child to play with,

Fit for a youngster to walk away with;

Home, Sweet Home

Mid pleasures and palaces though we may roam,
Be it ever so humble, there's no place like home;
A charm from the sky seems to hallow us there,
Which, seek through the world, is ne'er met with elsewhere.
Home, home, sweet, sweet home!
There's no place like home, oh, there's no place like home!

"This Enlightened Age"

I say it to myself-in meekest awe
Of Progress, electricity and steam,
Of this almighty age-this liberal age,
That has no time to breathe, or think, or dream,-