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Fifteenth Volume
LITTLE CLASSICS
EDITED BY
ROSSITER JOHNSON
Minor Poems
BOSTON AND NEW YORK
HOUGHTON, MIFFLIN AND COMPANY
The Riverside Press, Cambridge
1900
COPYRIGHT, 1875, BY JAMES R. OSGOOD & CO.
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
CONTENTS.
Page Ae Fond Kiss Robert Burns 52 Age of Wisdom, The William Makepeace Thackeray 115 Arsenal at Springfield, The Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 146 Astarte Robert Bulwer Lytton 54 Betrothed Anew Edmund Clarence Stedman 86 Blindness, On his John Milton 143 Brave at Home, The Thomas Buchanan Read 142 Break, break, break Alfred Tennyson 53 Bridal Dirge, A Bryan Waller Procter 163 Brookside, The Richard Monckton Milnes 36 Bugle-song Alfred Tennyson 40 Cavalier's Song, The William Motherwell 132 Chambered Nautilus, The Oliver Wendell Holmes 214 Changes Robert Bulwer Lytton 71 Children's Hour, The Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 152 Christmas Hymn, A Alfred Dommett 217 Cloud, The John Wilson 213 Come, rest in this bosom Thomas Moore 46 Coronach Sir Walter Scott 133 Courtin', The James Russell Lowell 26 Days that are no more, The Alfred Tennyson 65 Death-Bed, The Thomas Hood 160 Death of the Flowers, The William Cullen Bryant 100
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tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">Death's Final Conquest James Shirley 182 Dirge for a Soldier George Henry Boker 134 Drake, Joseph Rodman Fitz-Greene Halleck 169 Driving Home the Cows Kate Putnam Osgood 140 Eagle, The Alfred Tennyson 105 Enticed William C. Wilkinson 224 Epilogue The Editor 231 Evelyn Hope Robert Browning 161 Farewell, A Charles Kingsley 199 Farewell, A Alfred Tennyson 112 Girdle, On a Edmund Waller 23 Going Home Benjamin F. Taylor 185 Graves of a Household, The Felicia Hemans 174 Haunted Houses Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 73 Health, A Edward Coate Pinkney 21 Hermit, The James Beattie 175 Heroes Edna Dean Proctor 144 Highland Mary Robert Burns 166 How's my Boy? Sydney Dobell 150 Hymn to the Night Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 103 Ichabod John Greenleaf Whittier 123 Indian Gold Coin, To an John Leyden 183 In Memoriam Thomas K. Hervey 173 I Remember, I Remember Thomas Hood 72 Ivy Green, The Charles Dickens 90 Knight's Tomb, The Samuel Taylor Coleridge 133 Kubla Khan Samuel Taylor
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Coleridge 16 Lament, A Percy Bysshe Shelley 192 Lament of the Irish Emigrant Lady Dufferin 158 Land of Lands, The Alfred Tennyson 126 Land o' the Leal, The Lady Nairne 156 Last Leaf, The Oliver Wendell Holmes 117 Last Rose of Summer, The Thomas Moore 111 Lie, The Sir Walter Raleigh 204 Life Anna Lætitia Barbauld 193 Life Henry King 192 Lines on a Skeleton Anonymous 201 Lines to an Indian Air Percy Bysshe Shelley 42 Little Black Boy, The William Blake 181 Little Years, The Robert T. S. Lowell 114 Long-Ago, The Richard Monckton Milnes 88 Lost Leader, The Robert Browning 119 Love Not Caroline Norton 51 Lucasta, To Richard Lovelace 125 Maid of Athens, ere we part Lord Byron 45 Mango Tree, The Charles Kingsley 59 Man's Mortality Simon Wastel 189 Mariana Alfred Tennyson 37 Mary in Heaven, To Robert Bums 61 Minstrel's Song Thomas Chatterton 171 Monterey Charles Fenno Hoffman 128 Moore, Thomas, To Lord Byron 110 Musical Instrument, A Elizabeth Barrett Browning 11
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href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@34331@[email protected]#MY_CHILD" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">My Child John Pierpont 154 My Heid is like to rend William Motherwell 56 My Psalm John Greenleaf Whittier 221 My Slain Richard Realf 219 Nice Correspondent, A Frederick Locker 24 Night and Death Joseph Blanco White 104 Not Far to Go William Barnes 43 Ode William Collins 139 Ode Theodore P. Cook 137 Ode Sir William Jones 148 Ode Henry Timrod 136 Ode on a Grecian Urn John Keats 199 Oft in the Stilly Night Thomas Moore 64 Old Familiar Faces, The Charles Lamb 66 Old Man's Idyl, An Richard Realf 84 On a Picture of Peel Castle William Wordsworth 209 Over the River Nancy Priest Wakefield 78 O, why should the spirit of mortal be proud? William Knox 177 Pauper's Death-Bed, The Caroline Bowles Southey 208 Petition to Time, A Bryan Waller Procter 122 Philip, my King Dinah Maria Mulock Craik 149 Progress Robert Bulwer Lytton 179 Qua Cursum Ventus Arthur Hugh Clough 69 River Path, The John Greenleaf Whittier 82 St. Agnes Alfred Tennyson 215 Sands of Dee, The Charles Kingsley 102
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href="@public@vhost@g@gutenberg@html@files@34331@[email protected]#SERENADE" class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">Serenade Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 41 She died in beauty Charles Doyne Sillery 164 She is far from the land Thomas Moore 170 She walks in beauty Lord Byron 34 She was a phantom of delight William Wordsworth 18 She was not fair, nor full of grace Bryan Waller Procter 165 Skylark, The James Hogg 104 Skylark, To the Percy Bysshe Shelley 106 Slanten Light o' Fall, The William Barnes 20 Snow-Storm, A Charles Gamage Eastman 97 Soldier's Dream, The Thomas Campbell 127 Song,—"The heath this night" Sir Walter Scott 124 Song for September, A Thomas William Parsons 63 Song of the Camp, A Bayard Taylor 130 Sonnets William Shakespeare 48 Spinning-Wheel Song, The John Francis Waller 32 Stanzas,—"My life is like the summer rose" Richard Henry Wilde 113 Summer Longings Denis Florence Mac-Carthy 91 Thanatopsis William Cullen Bryant 75 They are all gone Henry Vaughan 80 Three Fishers, The Charles Kingsley 143 Tiger, The William Blake 96 Time's Changes David Macbeth Moir 67 Tithonus Alfred Tennyson 193 Tom Bowling Charles Dibdin 168 Too Late! Dinah Maria Mulock Craik
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167 Too Late Fitz-Hugh Ludlow 120 Toujours Amour Edmund Clarence Stedman 228 Treasures of the Deep, The Felicia Hemans 212 Two Women Nathaniel Parker Willis 207 Undiscovered Country, The Edmund Clarence Stedman 220 Virtue George Herbert 203 Voiceless, The Oliver Wendell Holmes 229 Voyage, The Alfred Tennyson 13 Weariness Henry Wadsworth Longfellow 227 Welcome, The Thomas Davis 35 When the Kye come Hame James Hogg 30 Woman of Three Cows, The James Clarence Mangan 196 Woman's Question, A Adelaide Anne Procter 46 Yarrow Unvisited William Wordsworth 93
A MUSICAL INSTRUMENT.
What was he doing, the great god Pan,
Down in the reeds by the river?
Spreading ruin and scattering ban,
Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat
With the dragon-fly on the river.
Down in the reeds by the river?
Spreading ruin and scattering ban,
Splashing and paddling with hoofs of a goat,
And breaking the golden lilies afloat
With the dragon-fly on the river.
He tore out a reed, the great god Pan,
From the deep cool bed of the river:
The limpid water turbidly ran,
And the broken lilies a-dying lay,
And the dragon-fly had fled away,
Ere he brought it out of the river.
From the deep cool bed of the river:
The limpid water turbidly ran,
And the broken lilies a-dying lay,
And the dragon-fly had fled away,
Ere he brought it out of the river.
High on the shore sat the great god Pan,
While turbidly flowed the river;
And hacked and hewed as a great god can,
With his hard bleak steel at the patient reed,
Till there was not a sign of a leaf indeed
To prove it fresh from the river.
While turbidly flowed the river;
And hacked and hewed as a great god can,
With his hard bleak steel at the patient reed,
Till there was not a sign of a leaf indeed
To prove it fresh from the river.
He cut it short, did the great god Pan,
(How tall it stood in the river!)
Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,
Steadily from the outside ring,
And notched the poor dry empty thing
In holes, as he sat by the river.
(How tall it stood in the river!)
Then drew the pith, like the heart of a man,
Steadily from the outside ring,
And notched the poor dry empty thing
In holes, as he sat by the river.
"This is the way," laughed the great god Pan
(Laughed while he sat by the river),
"The only way, since gods began
To make sweet music, they could succeed."
Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed,
He blew in power by the river.
(Laughed while he sat by the river),
"The only way, since gods began
To make sweet music, they could succeed."
Then, dropping his mouth to a hole in the reed,
He blew in power by the river.
Sweet, sweet, sweet, O Pan!
Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die,
And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly
Came back to dream on the river.
Piercing sweet by the river!
Blinding sweet, O great god Pan!
The sun on the hill forgot to die,
And the lilies revived, and the dragon-fly
Came back to dream on the river.
Yet half a beast is the great god Pan,
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man:
The true gods sigh for the cost and pain,—
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.
To laugh as he sits by the river,
Making a poet out of a man:
The true gods sigh for the cost and pain,—
For the reed which grows nevermore again
As a reed with the reeds in the river.
Elizabeth Barrett Browning.
THE VOYAGE.
We left behind the painted buoy
That tosses at the harbor-mouth:
And madly danced our hearts with joy,
As fast we fleeted to the south:
That tosses at the harbor-mouth:
And madly danced our hearts with joy,
As fast we fleeted to the south:
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class="i0">How fresh was every sight and sound
On open main or winding shore!
We knew the merry world was round,
And we might sail forevermore.
On open main or winding shore!
We knew the merry world was round,
And we might sail forevermore.
Warm broke the breeze against the brow,
Dry sang the tackle, sang the sail:
The lady's-head upon the prow
Caught the shrill salt, and sheered the gale.
The broad seas swelled to meet the keel,
And swept behind: so quick the run,
We felt the good ship shake and reel,
We seemed to sail into the sun!
Dry sang the tackle, sang the sail:
The lady's-head upon the prow
Caught the shrill salt, and sheered the gale.
The broad seas swelled to meet the keel,
And swept behind: so quick the run,
We felt the good ship shake and reel,
We seemed to sail into the sun!
How oft we saw the sun retire,
And burn the threshold of the night,
Fall from his ocean-lane of fire,
And sleep beneath his pillared light!
How oft the purple-skirted robe
Of twilight slowly downward drawn,
As through the slumber of the globe
Again we dashed into the dawn!
And burn the threshold of the night,
Fall from his ocean-lane of fire,
And sleep beneath his pillared light!
How oft the purple-skirted robe
Of twilight slowly downward drawn,
As through the slumber of the globe
Again we dashed into the dawn!
New stars all night above the brim
Of waters lightened into view;
They climbed as quickly, for the rim
Changed every moment as we flew.
Far ran the naked moon across
The houseless ocean's heaving field,
Or flying shone, the silver boss
Of her own halo's dusky shield;
Of waters lightened into view;
They climbed as quickly, for the rim
Changed every moment as we flew.
Far ran the naked moon across
The houseless ocean's heaving field,
Or flying shone, the silver boss
Of her own halo's dusky shield;
The peaky islet shifted shapes,
High towns on hills were dimly seen,
We passed long lines of northern capes
And dewy northern meadows green.
We came to warmer waves, and deep
Across the boundless east we drove,
Where those long swells of breaker sweep
The nutmeg rocks and isles of clove.
High towns on hills were dimly seen,
We passed long lines of northern capes
And dewy northern meadows green.
We came to warmer waves, and deep
Across the boundless east we drove,
Where those long swells of breaker sweep
The nutmeg rocks and isles of clove.
By peaks that flamed, or, all in shade,
Gloomed the low coast and quivering brine
With ashy rains, that spreading made
Fantastic plume or sable pine;
By sands and steaming flats, and floods
Of mighty mouth, we scudded fast,
And hills and scarlet-mingled woods
Glowed for a moment as we passed.
Gloomed the low coast and quivering brine
With ashy rains, that spreading made
Fantastic plume or sable pine;
By sands and steaming flats, and floods
Of mighty mouth, we scudded fast,
And hills and scarlet-mingled woods
Glowed for a moment as we passed.
O hundred shores of happy climes,
How swiftly streamed ye by the bark!
At times the whole sea burned, at times
With wakes of fire we tore the dark;
At times a carven craft would shoot
From havens hid in fairy bowers,
With naked limbs and flowers and fruit,
But we nor paused for fruits nor flowers.
How swiftly streamed ye by the bark!
At times the whole sea burned, at times
With wakes of fire we tore the dark;
At times a carven craft would shoot
From havens hid in fairy bowers,
With naked limbs and flowers and fruit,
But we nor paused for fruits nor flowers.
For one fair Vision ever fled
Down the waste waters day and night,
And still we followed where she led
In hope to gain upon her flight.
Her face was evermore unseen,
And fixed upon the far sea-line;
But each man murmured, "O my Queen,
I follow till I make thee mine."
Down the waste waters day and night,
And still we followed where she led
In hope to gain upon her flight.
Her face was evermore unseen,
And fixed upon the far sea-line;
But each man murmured, "O my Queen,
I follow till I make thee mine."
And now we lost her, now she gleamed
Like Fancy made of golden air,
Now nearer to the prow she seemed
Like Virtue firm, like Knowledge fair,
Now high on waves that idly burst
Like Heavenly Hope she crowned the sea,
And now, the bloodless point reversed,
She bore the blade of Liberty.
Like Fancy made of golden air,
Now nearer to the prow she seemed
Like Virtue firm, like Knowledge fair,
Now high on waves that idly burst
Like Heavenly Hope she crowned the sea,
And now, the bloodless point reversed,
She bore the blade of Liberty.
And only one among us,—him
We pleased not,—he was seldom pleased:
He saw not far: his eyes were dim:
But ours he swore were all diseased.
"A ship of fools!" he shrieked in spite,
"A ship of fools!" he sneered and wept.
And overboard one stormy night
He cast his body, and on we swept.
We pleased not,—he was seldom pleased:
He saw not far: his eyes were dim:
But ours he swore were all diseased.
"A ship of fools!" he shrieked in spite,
"A ship of fools!" he sneered and wept.
And overboard one stormy night
He cast his body, and on we swept.
And never sail of ours was furled
Nor anchor dropped at eve or morn;
We loved the glories of the world,
But laws of nature were our scorn;
For blasts would rise and rave and cease,
But whence were those that drove the sail
Across the whirlwind's heart of peace,
And to and through the counter-gale?
Nor anchor dropped at eve or morn;
We loved the glories of the world,
But laws of nature were our scorn;
For blasts would rise and rave and cease,
But whence were those that drove the sail
Across the whirlwind's heart of peace,
And to and through the counter-gale?
Again to colder climes we came,
For still we followed where she led:
Now mate is blind and captain lame,
And half the crew are sick or dead.
But blind or lame or sick or sound,
We follow that which flies before:
We know the merry world is round,
And we may sail forevermore.
For still we followed where she led:
Now mate is blind and captain lame,
And half the crew are sick or dead.
But blind or lame or sick or sound,
We follow that which flies before:
We know the merry world is round,
And we may sail forevermore.
Alfred Tennyson.