All Chapters of Good Novel: Chapter 1 - Chapter 10

16 Chapters

The Bonnie Wee Thing.

Tune - "Bonnie wee thing."I.        Bonnie wee thing, cannie wee thing,            Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine,        I wad wear thee in my bosom,            Lest my jewel I should tine.        Wishfully I look and languish            In that bonnie face o' thine;        And my heart it stounds wi' anguish,            Lest my wee thing be na mine.II.        Wit, and grace, and love, and beauty       &n
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The Juggler's Song

When the drums begin to beatDown the street,When the poles are fetched and guyed,When the tight-rope's stretched and tied,When the dance-girls make salaam,When the snake-bag wakes alarm,When the pipes set up their drone,When the sharp-edged knives are thrownWhen the red-hot coals are shown,To be swallowed by-and-by,Arre, Brethren, here come I!Stripped to loin-cloth in the sun,Search me well and watch me close!Tell me how my tricks are done,Tell me how the mango grows!Give a man who is not madeTo his tradeSwords to fling and catch again,Coins to ring and snatch again,Men to harm and cure again,Snakes to charm and lure again,He'll be hurt by his own blade,By his serpents disobeyed,By his clumsiness bewrayed,By the people laughed to scorn,So 'tis not with juggler born! Pinch of dust or withered flower,Chance-flung nut or borrowed staff,Serve his need and shore
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Mummia

As those of old drank mummia    To fire their limbs of lead,    Making dead kings from Africa    Stand pandar to their bed;    Drunk on the dead, and medicined    With spiced imperial dust,    In a short night they reeled to find    Ten centuries of lust.    So I, from paint, stone, tale, and rhyme,    Stuffed love's infinity,    And sucked all lovers of all time    To rarify ecstasy.    Helen's the hair shuts out from me    Verona's livid skies;    Gypsy the lips I press; and see    Two Antonys in your eyes.    The unheard invisible
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The Suicide

 Vast was the wealth I carried in life's pack -         Youth, health, ambition, hope and trust; but Time         And Fate, those robbers fit for any crime,    Stole all, and left me but the empty sack.    Before me lay a long and lonely track         Of darkling hills and barren steeps to climb;         Behind me lay in shadows the sublime    Lost lands of Love's delight.    Alack!    Alack!    Unwearied, and with springing steps elate,         I had conveyed my wealth along the road.         The empty sack proved now a heavier load:   &n
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Told By "The Noted Traveler"

Coming, clean from the Maryland-end    Of this great National Road of ours,    Through your vast West; with the time to spend,    Stopping for days in the main towns, where    Every citizen seemed a friend,    And friends grew thick as the wayside flowers, -    I found no thing that I might narrate    More singularly strange or queer    Than a thing I found in your sister-state    Ohio, - at a river-town - down here    In my notebook: Zanesville - situate    On the stream Muskingum - broad and clear,    And navigable, through half the year,    North, to Coshocton; south, as far    As Marietta. - But these f
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The Little Fat Doctor

 He seemed so strange to me, every way -            In manner, and form, and size,        From the boy I knew but yesterday, -            I could hardly believe my eyes!        To hear his name called over there,            My memory thrilled with glee        And leaped to picture him young and fair            In youth, as he used to be.        But looking, only as glad eyes can,            For the boy I knew of yore,   &nb
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A Prayer For England.

 Ah, fair Lord God of Heaven, to whom we call, -         By whom we live, - on whom our hopes are built, -         Do Thou, from year to year, e'en as Thou wilt,        Control the Realm, but suffer not to fall        Its ancient faith, its grandeur, and its thrall!         Do Thou preserve it, in the hours of guilt,         When foemen thirst for blood that should be spilt,        And keep it strong when traitors would appal.        Uphold us still, O God! and be the screen         And sword and buckler of our England's might,       
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Some One & From A Full Heart

Some one came knocking        At my wee, small door;    Some one came knocking,        I'm sure - sure - sure;    I listened, I opened,        I looked to left and right,    But naught there was a-stirring        In the still dark night;    Only the busy beetle        Tap-tapping in the wall,    Only from the forest        The screech-owl's call,    Only the cricket whistling        While the dewdrops fall,    So I know not who came knocking,    At all, at all, a
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In Memoriam 3: O Sorrow, Cruel Fellowship

O Sorrow, cruel fellowship,O Priestess in the vaults of Death,O sweet and bitter in a breath,What whispers from thy lying lip?"The stars," she whispers, "blindly run;A web is wov'n across the sky;From out waste places comes a cry,And murmurs from the dying sun:"And all the phantom, Nature, stands--With all the music in her tone,A hollow echo of my own,--A hollow form with empty hands."And shall I take a thing so blind,Embrace her as my natural good;Or crush her, like a vice of blood,Upon the threshold of the mind?By Alfred Lord Tennysonhttps://www.public-domain-poetry.com/alfred-lord-tennyson/in-memoriam-3-o-sorrow-cruel-fellowship-743
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The City That Will Not Repent

 Climbing the heights of Berkeley        Nightly I watch the West.        There lies new San Francisco,        Sea-maid in purple dressed,        Wearing a dancer's girdle        All to inflame desire:        Scorning her days of sackcloth,        Scorning her cleansing fire.        See, like a burning city        Sets now the red sun's dome.        See, mystic firebrands sparkle        There on each store and home.        See how
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