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Read Ebook: Graded Poetry: Seventh Year by Alexander Georgia Editor Blake Katherine Devereux Editor
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Ebook has 423 lines and 24000 words, and 9 pages
FIRST HALF YEAR
SECOND HALF YEAR
Biographical Sketches of Authors
SEVENTH YEAR--FIRST HALF
WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE ENGLAND, 1564-1616
Good name in man and woman, dear my lord, Is the immediate jewel of their souls: Who steals my purse steals trash; 'tis something, nothing; 'Twas mine, 'tis his, and has been slave to thousands; But he that filches from me my good name Robs me of that which not enriches him And makes me poor indeed.
--"OTHELLO," Act II, Sc. 3.
When daisies pied and violets blue, And lady-smocks all silver-white, And cuckoo-buds of yellow hue Do paint the meadows with delight.
--"LOVE'S LABOR'S LOST," Act V, Sc. 2.
This royal throne of kings, this scepter'd isle, This earth of majesty, this seat of Mars, This other Eden, demi-paradise; This fortress built by Nature for herself Against infection and the hand of war; This happy breed of men, this little world, This precious stone set in the silver sea, Which serves it in the office of a wall, Or as a moat defensive to a house, Against the envy of less happier lands; This blessed plot, this earth, this realm, this England.
--"RICHARD II," Act II, Sc. 1.
Jog on, jog on, the foot-path way, And merrily hent the stile-a: A merry heart goes all the day, Your sad tires in a mile-a.
--From "WINTER'S TALE."
The Downfall of Wolsey
Farewell! a long farewell, to all my greatness! This is the state of man: to-day he puts forth The tender leaves of hopes; to-morrow blossoms And bears his blushing honors thick upon him; The third day comes a frost, a killing frost; And, when he thinks, good easy man, full surely His greatness is a ripening, nips his root, And then he falls, as I do. I have ventured, Like little wanton boys that swim on bladders, This many summers in a sea of glory, But far beyond my depth: my high-blown pride At length broke under me; and now has left me, Weary and old with service, to the mercy Of a rude stream, that must forever hide me. Vain pomp and glory of this world, I hate ye: I feel my heart new opened. O, how wretched Is that poor man that hangs on princes' favors! There is, betwixt that smile we would aspire to, That sweet aspect of princes, and their ruin, More pangs and fears than wars or women have: And when he falls, he falls like Lucifer, Never to hope again.
BEN JONSON ENGLAND, 1574-1637
THE NOBLE NATURE
It is not growing like a tree In bulk doth make man better be; Or standing long an oak, three hundred year, To fall a log at last, dry, bald, and sere; A lily of a day Is fairer far in May, Although it fall and die that night,-- It was the plant and flower of Light. In small proportions we just beauties see, And in short measures life may perfect be.
JOHN MILTON ENGLAND, 1608-1674
SONG ON A MAY MORNING
Now the bright morning star, day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the east, and leads with her The flowery May, who from her green lap throws The yellow cowslip and the pale primrose.
Hail, bounteous May, that dost inspire Mirth and youth and warm desire! Woods and groves are of thy dressing, Hill and dale doth boast thy blessing. Thus we salute thee with our early song, And welcome thee, and wish thee long.
ISAAC WATTS ENGLAND, 1674-1748
O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Our shelter from the stormy blast, And our eternal home:
Before the hills in order stood, Or earth received her frame, From everlasting Thou art God, To endless years the same.
A thousand ages in Thy sight Are like an evening gone; Short as the watch that ends the night Before the rising sun.
Time, like an ever-rolling stream, Bears all its sons away; They fly forgotten, as a dream Dies at the opening day.
O God, our help in ages past, Our hope for years to come, Be Thou our guard while troubles last, And our eternal home.
WILLIAM COWPER ENGLAND, 1731-1800
THE DIVERTING HISTORY OF JOHN GILPIN
John Gilpin was a citizen, Of credit and renown, A trainband captain eke was he Of famous London town.
John Gilpin's spouse said to her dear, 'Though wedded we have been These twice ten tedious years, yet we No holiday have seen.
"To-morrow is our wedding day, And we will then repair Unto the Bell at Edmonton All in a chaise and pair.
"My sister, and my sister's child, Myself, and children three, Will fill the chaise; so you must ride On horseback after we."
He soon replied, "I do admire Of womankind but one, And you are she, my dearest dear, Therefore it shall be done.
"I am a linendraper bold, As all the world doth know, And my good friend the calender Will lend his horse to go."
Quoth Mrs. Gilpin, "That's well said; And for that wine is dear, We will be furnished with our own, Which is both bright and clear."
John Gilpin kiss'd his loving wife; O'erjoyed was he to find, That, though on pleasure she was bent, She had a frugal mind.
The morning came, the chaise was brought, But yet was not allow'd To drive up to the door, lest all Should say that she was proud.
So three doors off the chaise was stay'd, Where they did all get in; Six precious souls, and all agog To dash through thick and thin.
Smack went the whip, round went the wheels, Were never folks so glad, The stones did rattle underneath, As if Cheapside were mad.
John Gilpin at his horse's side Seized fast the flowing mane, And up he got, in haste to ride, But soon came down again;
For saddletree scarce reach'd had he His journey to begin, When, turning round his head, he saw Three customers come in.
So down he came; for loss of time, Although it grieved him sore, Yet loss of pence, full well he knew, Would trouble him much more.
'Twas long before the customers Were suited to their mind, When Betty screaming came downstairs, "The wine is left behind!"
"Good lack!" quoth he--"yet bring it me, My leathern belt likewise, In which I bear my trusty sword When I do exercise."
Now Mistress Gilpin Had two stone bottles found, To hold the liquor that she loved And keep it safe and sound.
Then over all, that he might be Equipp'd from top to toe, His long red cloak, well brush'd and neat, He manfully did throw.
Now see him mounted once again Upon his nimble steed, Full slowly pacing o'er the stones, With caution and good heed.
But finding soon a smoother road Beneath his well-shod feet, The snorting beast began to trot, Which gall'd him in his seat.
"So, fair and softly," John he cried, But John he cried in vain; That trot became a gallop soon, In spite of curb and rein.
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