« 이전계속 »
75 287 323 360 567 363 465
VISSCHER, MARIA TESSELSCHADE.
The Nightingale (Translation)
Girdle, On a
Go, lovely Rose !
Spinning-Wheel Song, The
Rivalry in Love
Angler's Wish, The . WARTON, THOMAS. England, 1728-1790.
Retirement WASTELL, SIMON. England, d. 1623.
Man's Mortality WATSON, JAMES W. America.
* Before Jehovah's awful throne
“Unveil thy bosom, faithful tomb "
The dule 's i' this bonnet o' mine
English Robin, The
The Old Maid WESLEY, CHARLES. England, 1708 - 1788.
* And let this feeble body fail”
“Under my window" WHITCHER, FRANCES MIRIAM. Whitesboro, N. Y., b. 1802.
Widow Bedott to Elder Sniffles
Early Primrose, To the
Harvest Moon, To the . WHITTIER, JOHN GREENLEAF. Haverhill, Mass., b. 1807.
Absent Sailor, To her
Meeting, The 348
New England in Winter .
Poet's Reward, The . 50
Pumpkin, The 45
Portland, Me., 1807 - 1867. 59
Belfry Pigeon, The
Women, Two 520
WILSON, JOHN (K’it North).
Evening Cloud, The. 325
To a Sleeping Child
Ainerica, b. 1824. 186
“Why thus longing ?” WITHER, GEORGE.
England, 1588 - 1567. 251
"I loved a lass, a fair one"
Shepherd's Resolution, The.
Pilgrims and the Peas, The . 314
Razor-Seller, The 282 WOLFE, CHARLES. 266
Old Oaken Bucket, The
Cuckoo, To ihe. 344
Education of Nature, The 620
Highland Giri of Inverspaid, To ihe 285
Inner Vision, The
Intimations of Immortality 272 272
Lost Love, The 265
Rainbow, The 631
A Happy Live
Verses in Praise of Angling
An Earnest Suit 26 The Deceived Lover sueth only for Liberty. 31
XAVIER, ST. FRANCIS. 703
France, 1506 - 1552. 142
“My God, I love thee" (Translation). 473 713 YOUL, EDWARD. 316
Song of Spring
342 369 367
21 442 2II
23 567 622 194 307 585 33
13 323 570
43 245 344 577 193
14 528 297 330 330
Just as I am"
“Love not me for comely grace
61 Meditation on the Frailty of this Life, A 611 Mummy at Belzoni's Exhibition, Auswer of the 543 My eyes ! how I love you
74 "My Love in her attire
47 My old Kentucky Home My sweet Sweeting
49 New Year's Eve “ Nothing but leaves"
269 Old-School Punishment
26 "Only waiting.”
266 Origin of the Opal
654 Orphans, The
246 Perils of the Pave, The
707 Prayer for Life, A
288 Remonstrance with the Snails
357 Robin Hood and Allen-a-Dale
496 Sally of the Cid
410 Sea Fight, The .
487 Sebastopol taken- in and done for (London
Diogenes) Shan Van Vocht
455 Shule Aroon Signs of Rain
313 Skater Belle, Our
518 Skeleton, Toa
97 Stormy Petrel, Lines to the
354 Summer Days
80 Swell's Soliloquy
742 The Caliph and Satan (J. F. C.) The Eggs and the Horses (R. Ś. S.)
759 “The land, boys, we live in
444 The Petrified Fern
620 The Seaside Well.
596 “ They 're dear fish to me"
199 Tomb of Cyrus, The
210 Under the Cross (W. c. R.)'
178 Useful Plough, The
420 Vicar of Bray, The
754 Waly, waly, but love be bonny
173 "When shall we all meet again?" White Rose, The.
39 “Why, lovely charmer
47 Wife to her Husband, The
157 Willy drowned in Yarrow .
10 381 763 224 378 759
93 423 733 417 421 195 176 266 136 621 608 761 317 732 274 106 497
6 61 60
This is love, who, deaf to prayers,
So large a collection of poems as this demands of its compiler an extensive familiarity with the poetic literature of our language, both of the early and the later time, and withal so liberal a taste as not to exclude any variety of poetic merit. At the request of the Publishers I undertook to write an Introduction to the present work, and in pursuance of this design I find that I have come into a somewhat closer personal relation with the book. In its progress it has passed entirely under my revision, and, although not absolutely responsible for the compilation or its arrangement, I have, as requested, exercised a free hand both in excluding and in adding matter according to my judgment of what was best adapted to the purposes of the enterprise. Such, however, is the wide range of English verse, and such the abundance of the materials, that a compilation of this kind must be like a bouquet gathered from the fields in June, when hundreds of flowers will be left in unvisited spots, as beautiful as those which have been taken. It may happen, therefore, that many who have learned to delight in some particular poem will turn these pages, as they might those of other collections, without finding their favorite. Nor should it be matter of surprise, considering the multitude of authors from whom the compilation is made, if it be found that some are overlooked, especially the more recent, of equal merit with many whose poems appear in these pages. It may happen, also, that the compiler, in consequence of some particular association, has been sensible of a beauty and a power of awakening emotions and recalling images in certain poems which other readers will fail to perceive. It should be considered, moreover, that in poetry, as in painting, different artists have different modes of presenting their conceptions, each of which may possess its peculiar merit, yet those whose taste is formed by contemplating the productions of one class take little pleasure in any other. Crabb Robinson relates that Wordsworth once admitted to him that he did not much admire contemporary poetry, not because of its want of poetic merit, but because he had been accustomed to poetry of a different sort, and added that but for this he might have read it with pleasure. I quote from memory. It is to be hoped that every reader of this collection, however he may have been trained, will find in the great variety of its contents something conformable to his taste. I suppose
it is not necessary to give a reason for adding another to the collections of this nature, already in print. They abound in every language, for the simple reason that there is a demand for them. German literature, prolific as it is in verse, has many of them, and some of them compiled by distinguished authors. The parlor table and the winter fireside require a book which, when one is in the humor for reading poetry and knows not what author to take up, will supply exactly what he wants.
I have known persons who frankly said that they took no pleasure in reading poetry, and perhaps the number of those who make this admission would be greater were it not for the fear of appearing singular. But to the great mass of mankind poetry is really a delight and a refreshment. To many, perhaps to most, it is not requisite that it should be of the highest degree of merit. Nor, although it be true that the poems which are most famous and most highly prized are works of considerable length, can it be said that the pleasure they give is in any degree proportionate to the extent of their plan. It seems to me that it is only poems of a moderate length, or else portions of the greater works to which I refer, that produce the effect upon the mind and heart which make the charm of this kind of writing. The proper office of poetry, in filling the mind with delightful images and awakening the gentler emotions, is not accomplished on a first and rapid perusal, but requires that the words should be dwelt upon until they become in a certain sense our own, and are adopted as the utterance of our own minds. A collection such as this is intended to be furnishes for this purpose portions of the best English verse suited to any of the varying moods of its readers.
Such a work also, if sufficiently extensive, gives the reader an opportunity of comparing the poetic literature of one period with that of another; of noting the fluctuations of taste, and how the poetic forms which are in fashion during one age are laid aside in the next; of observing the changes which take place in our language, and the sentiments which at different periods challenge the public approbation. Specimens of the poetry of different centuries presented in this way show how the great stream of human thought in its poetic form eddies now to the right and now to the left, wearing away its banks first on one side and then on the other. Some author of more than common faculties and more than common boldness catches the public attention, and immediately he has a crowd of followers who form their taste on his and seek to divide with him the praise. Thus Cowley, with his undeniable genius, was the head of a numerous class who made poetry consist in far-fetched conceits, ideas oddly brought together, and quaint turns of thought. Pope, following close upon Dryden, and learning much from him, was the founder of a school of longer duration, which found its models in Boileau and other poets of the reign of Louis the Fourteenth,-a school in which the wit predominated over the poetry,-a school marked by striking oppositions of thought, frequent happinesses of expression, and a carefully balanced modulation, - numbers pleasing at first, but in the end fatiguing. As this school degenerated the wit almost disappeared, but there was no new infusion of poetry in its place. When Scott gave the public the Lay of the Last Minstrel, and other poems, which certainly, considered as mere narratives, are the best we have, carrying the reader forward without weariness and with an interest which the author never allows to subside, a crowd of imitators pressed after him, the greater part of whom are no longer read. Wordsworth had, and still has, his school ; the stamp of his example is visible on the writings of all the poets of the present day.