A CAUTION TO POETS

WHAT poets feel not, when they make
A pleasure in creating,

The world, in its turn, will not take
Pleasure in contemplating.

1867.

Matthew Arnold.

THE SKY

THE sky is a drinking-cup,
That was overturned of old,
And it pours in the eyes of men
Its wine of airy gold.

We drink that wine all day,

Till the last drop is drained up,

And are lighted off to bed

By the jewels in the cup!

Richard Henry Stoddard.

BIRDS

BIRDS are singing round my window,
Tunes the sweetest ever heard,

And I hang my cage there daily,

But I never catch a bird.

So with thoughts 'my brain is peopled,
And they sing there all day long:
But they will not fold their pinions
In the little cage of Song!

Richard Henry Stoddard.

"OUR SHARE OF NIGHT TO BEAR”

OUR share of night to bear,

Our share of morning,

Our blank in bliss to fill,

Our blank in scorning.

Here a star, and there a star,

Some lose their way.

Here a mist, and there a mist,

Afterwards-day!

1890.

Emily Dickinson.

"HEART, WE WILL FORGET HIM”

1896.

HEART, we will forget him!

You and I to-night!

You may forget the warmth he gave,

I will forget the light.

When you have done, pray tell me,
That I my thoughts may dim;
Haste! lest while you 're lagging,
I may remember him!

Emily Dickinson.

THE LAST WISH

SINCE all that I can ever do for thee

Is to do nothing, this my prayer must be: That thou may'st never guess nor ever see The all-endured this nothing-done costs me 1857. Earl of Lytton.

THE STIRRUP-CUP

DEATH, thou 'rt a cordial old and rare:
Look how compounded, with what care!
Time got his wrinkles reaping thee
Sweet herbs from all antiquity.

David to thy distillage went,
Keats, and Gotama excellent,

1877.

Omar Khayyam, and Chaucer bright,
And Shakespeare for a king-delight.

Then, Time, let not a drop be spilt:
Hand me the cup whene'er thou wilt;
'Tis thy rich stirrup-cup to me;
I'll drink it down right smilingly.

Sidney Lanier.

8

12

SELECTIONS

FROM THE LATER POETRY

Sonnets

Epigrams