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The Wooden Doll And The Wax Doll
© Ann Taylor
THERE were two friends, a very charming pair,
Brunette the brown, and Blanchidine the fair;
Chrismus On The Plantation
© Paul Laurence Dunbar
It was Chrismus Eve, I mind hit fu' a mighty gloomy day--
Bofe de weathah an' de people--not a one of us was gay;
Cose you 'll t'ink dat 's mighty funny 'twell I try to mek hit cleah,
Fu' a da'ky 's allus happy when de holidays is neah.
A Dilettante
© Augusta Davies Webster
Good friend, be patient: goes the world awry?
well, can you groove it straight with all your pains?
and, sigh or scold, and, argue or intreat,
what have you done but waste your part of life
on impotent fool's battles with the winds,
that will blow as they list in spite of you?
Exmoor Verses
© Sir Arthur Quiller-Couch
Over the rim of the Moor,
And under the starry sky,
Two men came to my door
And rested them thereby.
The Text
© Charles Lamb
One Sunday eve a grave old man,
Who had not been at church, did say,
"Eliza, tell me, if you can,
What text our Doctor took to-day?"
Home
© Zbigniew Herbert
A home above the year's seasons
home of children animals and apples
a square of empty space
under an absent star
Tale IV
© George Crabbe
harm;
Give me thy pardon," and he look'd alarm:
Meantime the prudent Dinah had contrived
Her soul to question, and she then revived.
"See! my good friend," and then she raised her
A Wedding In War-Time
© Gilbert Keith Chesterton
Our God who made two lovers in a garden,
And smote them separate and set them free,
The Rose Delima
© William Henry Drummond
"On Anticosti shore we hear de breaker roar
An' reef of dead Man's Islan' too we know,
But we never miss de way, no matter night or
day,
De Rose Delima schooner an' Captinne
Baribeau."
Penetration And Trust
© George Meredith
Sleek as a lizard at round of a stone,
The look of her heart slipped out and in.
Sweet on her lord her soft eyes shone,
As innocents clear of a shade of sin.
Arties "Amen"
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
THEY were Methodists twain, of the ancient school,
Who always followed the wholesome rule
That whenever the preacher in meeting said
Aught that was good for the heart or head
His hearers should pour their feelings out
In a loud "Amen" or a godly shout.
The Wind That Lifts The Fog
© William Henry Drummond
Over de sea de schooner boat
_Star of de Sout'_ is all afloat,
Italy : 48. The Harper
© Samuel Rogers
It was a harper, wandering with his harp,
His only treasure; a majestic man,
By time and grief ennobled, not subdued;
Though from his height descending, day by day,
Sassoon's Public Statement Of Defiance
© Siegfried Sassoon
"I am making this statement as an act of wilful defiance of military authority, because I believe the war is being deliberately prolonged by those who have the power to end it.
I am a soldier, convinced that I am acting on behalf of soldiers. I believe that this war, upon which I entered as a war of defence and liberation has now become a war of aggression and conquest. I believe that the purposes for which I and my fellow soldiers entered upon this war should have been so clearly stated as to have made it impossible to change them, and that, had this been done, the objects witch actuated us would now be attainable by negotiation.
Ten Types of Hospital Visitor
© Charles Causley
The second appears, a melancholy splurge
Of theological colours;
Taps heavily about like a healthy vulture
Distributing deep-frozen hope.
All Fools Day
© Denis Florence MacCarthy
The Sun called a beautiful Beam, that was playing
At the door of his golden-wall'd palace on high;
The Ruines of Time
© Edmund Spenser
But whie (vnhappie wight) doo I thus crie,
And grieue that my remembrance quite is raced
Out of the knowledge of posteritie,
And all my antique moniments defaced?
Sith I doo dailie see things highest placed,
So soone as fates their vitall thred haue neuer borne.
Rural Sports: A Georgic - Canto I.
© John Gay
But when the sun displays his glorious beams,
And shallow rivers flow with silver streams,
Then the deceit the scaly breed survey,
Bask in the sun, and look into the day.
You now a more delusive art must try,
And tempt their hunger with the curious fly.
The Little Old Man
© Edgar Albert Guest
The little old man with the curve in his back
And the eyes that are dim and the skin that is slack,
So slack that it wrinkles and rolls on his cheeks,
With a thin little voice that goes "crack!" when he speaks,
Never goes to the store but that right at his feet
Are all of the youngsters who live on the street.
