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The Home Book of Verse — Volume 4
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The Home Book of Verse — Volume 4

by Stevenson Burton Egbert

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THE HOME BOOK OF VERSE,

VOLUME 4


By Various


Edited by Burton Egbert Stevenson






INDEXES TO ALL FOUR VOLUMES






Contents

PART IV


FAMILIAR VERSE, AND POEMS HUMOROUS AND SATIRIC

BALLADE OF THE PRIMITIVE JEST


THE KINDLY MUSE

TIME TO BE WISE

UNDER THE LINDENS

ADVICE

TO FANNY

"I'D BE A BUTTERFLY"

"I'M NOT A SINGLE MAN"

TO——

THE VICAR

THE BELLE OF THE BALL-ROOM

THE FINE OLD ENGLISH GENTLEMAN

A TERNARIE OF LITTLES, UPON A PIPKIN OF JELLY SENT TO A LADY

CHIVALRY AT A DISCOUNT

THE BALLAD OF BOUILLABAISSE

TO MY GRANDMOTHER

MY MISTRESS'S BOOTS

A GARDEN LYRIC

MRS. SMITH

THE SKELETON IN THE CUPBOARD

A TERRIBLE INFANT

COMPANIONS

DOROTHY Q

MY AUNT

THE LAST LEAF

CONTENTMENT

THE BOYS

THE JOLLY OLD PEDAGOGUE

ON AN INTAGLIO HEAD OF MINERVA

THALIA

PAN IN WALL STREET

UPON LESBIA—ARGUING

TO ANTHEA, WHO MAY COMMAND HIM ANYTHING

THE EIGHT-DAY CLOCK

A PORTRAIT

"OLD BOOKS ARE BEST"

IMPRESSION

"WITH

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STRAWBERRIES"

BALLADE OF LADIES' NAMES

TO A PAIR OF EGYPTIAN SLIPPERS

WITHOUT AND WITHIN

"SHE WAS A BEAUTY"

NELL GWYNNE'S LOOKING-GLASS

MIMNERMUS IN CHURCH

CLAY

AUCASSIN AND NICOLETE

PROVENCAL LOVERS

ON THE HURRY OF THIS TIME

"GOOD-NIGHT, BABETTE!"

A DIALOGUE FROM PLATO

THE LADIES OF ST. JAMES'S

THE CURE'S PROGRESS

A GENTLEMAN OF THE OLD SCHOOL

ON A FAN

"WHEN I SAW YOU LAST, ROSE"

URCEUS EXIT

A CORSAGE BOUQUET

TWO TRIOLETS

THE BALLAD OF DEAD LADIES

BALLADE OF DEAD LADIES

A BALLAD OF DEAD LADIES

IF I WERE KING

A BALLADE OF SUICIDE

CHIFFONS!

ENVOY

THE COURT HISTORIAN

MISS LOU

THE POET AND THE WOOD-LOUSE

STUDENTS

"ONE, TWO, THREE!"

THE CHAPERON

"A PITCHER OF MIGNONETTE"

OLD KING COLE

THE MASTER MARINER

A ROSE TO THE LIVING

A KISS

BIFTEK AUX CHAMPIGNONS

EVOLUTION

A REASONABLE AFFLICTION

A MORAL IN SEVRES

ON THE FLY-LEAF OF A BOOK

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OF OLD PLAYS

THE TALENTED MAN

A LETTER OF ADVICE

A NICE CORRESPONDENT

HER LETTER

A DEAD LETTER

THE NYMPH COMPLAINING FOR THE DEATH OF HER FAWN

ON THE DEATH OF A FAVORITE CAT, DROWNED IN A TUB OF GOLD FISHES

VERSES ON A CAT

EPITAPH ON A HARE

ON THE DEATH OF MRS. THROCKMORTON'S BULLFINCH

AN ELEGY ON A LAP-DOG

MY LAST TERRIER

GEIST'S GRAVE

"HOLD"


THE BARB OF SATIRE

THE VICAR OF BRAY

THE LOST LEADER

ICHABOD

WHAT MR. ROBINSON THINKS

THE DEBATE IN THE SENNIT

THE MARQUIS OF CARABAS

A MODEST WIT

JOLLY JACK

THE KING OF BRENTFORD

KAISER & CO

NONGTONGPAW

THE LION AND THE CUB

THE HARE WITH MANY FRIENDS

THE SYCOPHANTIC FOX AND THE GULLIBLE RAVEN

THE FRIEND OF HUMANITY AND THE KNIFE-GRINDER

VILLON'S STRAIGHT TIP TO ALL CROSS COVES

VILLON'S BALLADE

A LITTLE BROTHER OF THE RICH

THE WORLD'S WAY

FOR MY OWN MONUMENT

THE BISHOP ORDERS HIS TOMB AT SAINT PRAXED'S CHURCH

UP AT A VILLA—DOWN IN THE CITY

ALL SAINTS'

AN ADDRESS TO THE UNCO GUID, OR THE RIGIDLY RIGHTEOUS

THE DEACON'S MASTERPIECE, OR THE WONDERFUL "ONE-HOSS SHAY"

BALLADE OF A FRIAR

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class="pginternal" tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">THE CHAMELEON

THE BLIND MEN AND THE ELEPHANT

THE PHILOSOPHER'S SCALES

THE MAIDEN AND THE LILY

THE OWL-CRITIC

THE BALLAD OF IMITATION

THE CONUNDRUM OF THE WORKSHOPS

THE V-A-S-E

HEM AND HAW

MINIVER CHEEVY

THEN AG'IN

A CONSERVATIVE

SIMILAR CASES

MAN AND THE ASCIDIAN

THE CALF-PATH

WEDDED BLISS

PARADISE: A HINDOO LEGEND

AD CHLOEN, M. A.

"AS LIKE THE WOMAN AS YOU CAN"

"NO FAULT IN WOMEN"

"ARE WOMEN FAIR?"

A STRONG HAND

WOMEN'S LONGING

TRIOLET

THE FAIR CIRCASSIAN

THE FEMALE PHAETON

THE LURE

THE FEMALE OF THE SPECIES

THE WOMAN WITH THE SERPENT'S TONGUE

SUPPOSE

TOO CANDID BY HALF

FABLE

WOMAN'S WILL

WOMAN'S WILL

PLAYS

THE REMEDY WORSE THAN THE DISEASE

THE NET OF LAW

COLOGNE

EPITAPH ON CHARLES II

CERTAIN MAXIMS OF HAFIZ

A BAKER'S DUZZEN UV WIZE SAWZ

EPIGRAMS

WRITTEN ON A LOOKING-GLASS

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tag="{http://www.w3.org/1999/xhtml}a">AN EPITAPH

ON THE ARISTOCRACY OF HARVARD

ON THE DEMOCRACY OF YALE

A GENERAL SUMMARY


THE MIMICS

AN OMAR FOR LADIES

"WHEN LOVELY WOMAN"

FRAGMENT IN IMITATION OF WORDSWORTH

ONLY SEVEN

LUCY LAKE

JANE SMITH

FATHER WILLIAM

THE NEW ARRIVAL

DISASTER

'TWAS EVER THUS

A GRIEVANCE

"NOT A SOU HAD HE GOT"

THE WHITING AND THE SNAIL

THE RECOGNITION

THE HIGHER PANTHEISM IN A NUTSHELL

THE WILLOW-TREE

POETS AND LINNETS

THE JAM-POT

BALLAD

Part I

Part II

THE POSTER-GIRL

AFTER DILETTANTE CONCETTI

IF

NEPHELIDIA

COMMONPLACES

THE PROMISSORY NOTE

MRS. JUDGE JENKINS

THE MODERN HIAWATHA

HOW OFTEN

"IF I SHOULD DIE TO-NIGHT"

SINCERE FLATTERY

CULTURE IN THE SLUMS

THE POETS AT TEA

WORDSWORTH






PART IV





FAMILIAR VERSE, AND POEMS HUMOROUS AND SATIRIC





BALLADE OF THE PRIMITIVE JEST

"What did the dark-haired Iberian laugh at before the tall blonde
Aryan drove him into the corners of Europe?"—Brander Matthews
I am an ancient Jest!
Palaeolithic man
In
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his arboreal nest
The sparks of fun would fan;
My outline did he plan,
And laughed like one possessed,
'Twas thus my course began,
I am a Merry Jest!
I am an early Jest!
Man delved, and built, and span;
Then wandered South and West
The peoples Aryan,
I journeyed in their van;
The Semites, too, confessed,—
From Beersheba to Dan,—
I am a Merry Jest!
I am an ancient Jest!
Through all the human clan,
Red, black, white, free, oppressed,
Hilarious I ran!
I'm found in Lucian,
In Poggio, and the rest,
I'm dear to Moll and Nan!
I am a Merry Jest!
ENVOY
Prince, you may storm and ban—
Joe Millers are a pest,
Suppress me if you can!
I am a Merry Jest!
Andrew Lang [1844-1912]





THE KINDLY MUSE





TIME TO BE WISE

Yes; I write verses now and then,
But blunt and flaccid is my pen,
No longer talked of by young men
As rather clever:
In the last quarter are my eyes,
You see it by their form and size;
Is it not time then to be wise?
Or now or never.
Fairest that ever sprang from Eve!
While Time allows the short reprieve,
Just look at me! would you believe
'Twas once a lover?
I cannot clear the five-bar gate;
But, trying first its timber's state,
Climb stiffly up, take breath, and wait
To trundle over.
Through gallopade I cannot swing
The entangling blooms of Beauty's spring:
I cannot say the tender thing,
Be't true or false,
And am beginning to opine
Those girls are only half-divine
Whose waists yon wicked boys entwine
In giddy waltz.
I fear that arm above that shoulder;
I wish them wiser, graver, older,
Sedater, and no harm if colder,
And panting less.
Ah! people were not half so wild
In former days, when, starchly mild,
Upon her high-heeled Essex smiled
The brave Queen Bess.
Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]





UNDER THE LINDENS

Under the lindens lately sat
A couple, and no more, in chat;
I wondered what they would be at
Under the lindens.
I saw four eyes and four lips meet,
I heard the words, "How sweet! how sweet!"
Had then the Fairies given a treat
Under the lindens?
I pondered long and could not tell
What dainty pleased them both so well:
Bees! bees! was it your hydromel
Under the lindens?
Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]





ADVICE

To write as your sweet mother does
Is all you wish to do.
Play, sing, and smile for others, Rose!
Let others write for you.
Or mount again your Dartmoor gray,
And I will walk beside,
Until we reach that quiet bay
Which only hears the tide.
Then wave at me your pencil, then
At distance bid me stand,
Before the caverned cliff, again
The creature of your hand.
And bid me then go past the nook
To sketch me less in size;
There are but few content to look
So little in your eyes.
Delight us with the gifts you have,
And wish for none beyond:
To some be gay, to some be grave,
To one (blest youth!) be fond.
Pleasures there are how close to Pain
And better unpossessed!
Let poetry's too throbbing vein
Lie quiet in your breast.
Walter Savage Landor [1775-1864]





TO FANNY

Never mind how the pedagogue proses,
You want not antiquity's stamp;
The lip, that such fragrance discloses,
Oh! never should smell of the lamp.
Old Chloe, whose withering kisses
Have long set the Loves at defiance,
Now, done with the science of blisses,
May fly to the blisses of science!
Young Sappho, for want of employments,
Alone o'er her Ovid may melt,
Condemned but to read of enjoyments,
Which wiser Corinna had felt.
But for you to be buried in books—
Oh, Fanny! they're pitiful sages;
Who could not in one of your looks
Read more than in millions of pages!
Astronomy finds in your eyes
Better light than she studies above,
And Music must borrow your sighs
As the melody fittest for Love.
In Ethics—'tis you that can check,
In a minute, their doubts and their quarrels;
Oh! show but that mole on your neck,
And 'twill soon put an end to their morals.
Your Arithmetic only can trip
When to kiss and to count you endeavor;
But eloquence glows on your lip
When you swear that you'll love me for ever.