Produced by Juliet Sutherland, Josephine Paolucci and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net. McCLURE'S LIBRARY OF CHILDREN'S CLASSICS EDITED BY KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN AND NORA ARCHIBALD SMITH GOLDEN NUMBERS A BOOK OF VERSE FOR YOUTH THE POSY RING A BOOK OF VERSE FOR CHILDREN PINAFORE PALACE A BOOK OF RHYMES FOR THE NURSERY _Library of Fairy Literature_ THE FAIRY RING MAGIC CASEMENTS A SECOND FAIRY BOOK OTHER VOLUMES TO FOLLOW _Send to the publishers for Complete Descriptive Catalogue_ GOLDEN NUMBERS A BOOK OF VERSE FOR YOUTH CHOSEN AND CLASSIFIED BY _Kate Douglas Wiggin_ AND _Nora Archibald Smith_ WITH INTRODUCTION AND INTERLEAVES BY KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN [Illustration] "_To add to golden numbers, golden numbers._" THOMAS DEKKER. NEW YORK DOUBLEDAY, PAGE & COMPANY 1909 _Copyright, 1902, by_ McCLURE, PHILLIPS & CO. Published, October, 1902, N GOLDEN NUMBERS _Then read from the treasured volume the poem of thy choice._ HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW. _Hark! the numbers soft and clear_ _Gently steal upon the ear;_ _Now louder, and yet louder rise,_ _And fill with spreading sounds the skies;_ _Exulting in triumph now swell the bold notes,_ _In broken air, trembling, the wild music floats._ ALEXANDER POPE. A NOTE We are indebted to the following firms for permission to use poems mentioned: Frederick Warne & Co., for poems of George Herbert and Reginald Heber; Small, Maynard & Co., for two poems by Walt Whitman, and "The Tax-Gatherer," by John B. Tabb; George Routledge & Son, for "Sir Lark and King Sun," George Macdonald; Longmans, Green & Co., for Andrew Lang's "Scythe Song"; Lee & Shepard, for "A Christmas Hymn," "Alfred Dommett," and "Minstrels and Maids," William Morris; J. B. Lippincott Co., for three poems by Thomas Buchanan Read; John Lane, for "The Forsaken Merman," Matthew Arnold, and "Song to April," William Watson; "The Skylark," Frederick Tennyson; E. P. Dutton & Co., for "O Little Town of Bethlehem," Phillips Brooks; Dana, Estes & Co., for "July," by Susan Hartley Swett; Little, Brown & Co., for poems of Christina G. Rossetti, and for the three poems, "The Grass," "The Bee," and "Chartless" by Emily Dickinson; D. Appleton & Co., publishers of Bryant's Complete Poetical Works, for "March," "Planting of the Apple Tree," "To the Fringed Gentian," "Death of Flowers," "To a Waterfowl," and "The Twenty-second of December"; Charles Scribner's Sons, for "The Wind" and "A Visit from the Sea," both taken from "A Child's Garden of Verses"; "The Angler's Reveille," from "The Toiling of Felix"; "Dear Land of All My Love," from "Poems of Sidney Lanier," and "The Three Kings," from "With Trumpet and Drum," by Eugene Field; The Churchman, for "Tacking Ship Off Shore," by Walter Mitchell; The Whitaker-Ray Co., for "Columbus" and "Crossing the Plains," from The Complete Poetical Works of Joaquin Miller; The Macmillan Co., for "At Gibraltar," from "North Shore Watch and Other Poems," by George Edward Woodberry. The following poems are used by permission of, and by special arrangement with, Houghton, Mifflin Co., the authorized publishers: T. B. Aldrich, "A Turkish Legend," "Before the Rain," "Maple Leaves," and "Tiger Lilies"; Christopher P. Cranch, "The Bobolinks"; Alice Cary, "The Gray Swan"; Margaret Deland, "While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night"; Ralph Waldo Emerson, "Forbearance," "The Humble-Bee," "Duty," "The Rhodora," "Concord Hymn," "The Snow Storm," and Ode Sung in the Town Hall, Concord; James T. Fields, "Song of the Turtle and the Flamingo"; Oliver Wendell Holmes, "Old Ironsides" and "The Chambered Nautilus"; John Hay, "The Enchanted Shirt"; Julia Ward Howe, "Battle Hymn of the Republic"; Bret Harte, "The Reveille" and "A Greyport Legend"; T. W. Higginson, "The Snowing of the Pines"; H. W. Longfellow, "The Wreck of the Hesperus," "The Psalm of Life," "Home Song," "The Three Kings," and "The Harvest Moon"; James Russell Lowell, "Washington," extracts from "The Vision of Sir Launfal," "The Fatherland," "To the Dandelion," "The Singing Leaves," and "Stanzas on Freedom"; Lucy Larcom, "Hannah Binding Shoes"; Edna Dean Proctor, "Columbia's Emblem"; T. W. Parsons, "Dirge for One Who Fell in Battle"; E. C. Stedman, "The Flight of the Birds" and "Going A-Nutting"; E. R. Sill, "Opportunity"; W. W. Story, "The English Language"; Celia Thaxter, "The Sandpiper" and "Nikolina"; J. T. Trowbridge, "Evening at the Farm" and "Midwinter"; Bayard Taylor, "A Night With a Wolf" and "The Song of the Camp"; J. G. Whittier, "The Corn Song," "The Barefoot Boy," "Barbara Frietchie," extracts from "Snow-Bound," "Song of the Negro Boatman," and "The Pipes at Lucknow"; W. D. Howells, "In August"; J. G. Saxe, "Solomon and the Bees." CONTENTS A CHANTED CALENDAR Page Daybreak. By _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 1 Morning. By _John Keats_ 1 A Morning Song. By _William Shakespeare_ 2 Evening in Paradise. By _John Milton_ 2 Evening Song. By _John Fletcher_ 3 Night. By _Robert Southey_ 4 A Fine Day. By _Michael Drayton_ 5 The Seasons. By _Edmund Spenser_ 5 The Eternal Spring. By _John Milton_ 5 March. By _William Cullen Bryant_ 6 Spring. By _Thomas Carew_ 7 Song to April. By _William Watson_ 7 April in England. By _Robert Browning_ 8 April and May. By _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 9 May. By _Edmund Spenser_ 9 Song on May Morning. By _John Milton_ 10 Summer. By _Edmund Spenser_ 10 June Weather. By _James Russell Lowell_ 11 July. By _Susan Hartley Swett_ 13 August. By _Edmund Spenser_ 14 In August. By _William Dean Howells_ 14 Autumn. By _Edmund Spenser_ 15 Sweet September. By _George Arnold_ 15 Autumn's Processional. By _Dinah M. Mulock_ 16 October's Bright Blue Weather. By _H. H._ 16 Maple Leaves. By _Thomas Bailey Aldrich_ 17 Down to Sleep. By _H. H._ 18 Winter. By _Edmund Spenser_ 19 When Icicles Hang by the Wall. By _William Shakespeare_ 19 A Winter Morning. By _James Russell Lowell_ 20 The Snow Storm. By _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 21 Old Winter. By _Thomas Noel_ 22 Midwinter. By _John Townsend Trowbridge_ 23 Dirge for the Year. By _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 25 THE WORLD BEAUTIFUL The World Beautiful. By _John Milton_ 27 The Harvest Moon. By _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 27 The Cloud. By _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 28 Before the Rain. By _Thomas Bailey Aldrich_ 31 Rain in Summer. By _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 32 Invocation to Rain in Summer. By _William C. Bennett_ 34 The Latter Rain. By _Jones Very_ 35 The Wind. By _Robert Louis Stevenson_ 35 Ode to the Northeast Wind. By _Charles Kingsley_ 36 The Windy Night. By _Thomas Buchanan Read_ 39 The Brook. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 40 The Brook in Winter. By _James Russell Lowell_ 42 Clear and Cool. By _Charles Kingsley_ 44 Minnows. By _John Keats_ 45 Snow-Bound (Extracts). By _John G. Whittier_ 46 Highland Cattle. By _Dinah M. Mulock_ 50 A Scene in Paradise. By _John Milton_ 52 The Tiger. By _William Blake_ 53 The Spacious Firmament on High. By _Joseph Addison_ 54 GREEN THINGS GROWING Green Things Growing. By _Dinah M. Mulock_ 57 The Sigh of Silence. By _John Keats_ 58 Under the Greenwood Tree. By _William Shakespeare_ 59 The Planting of the Apple Tree. By _William Cullen Bryant_ 59 The Apple Orchard in the Spring. By _William Martin_ 63 Mine Host of "The Golden Apple." By _Thomas Westwood_ 64 The Tree. By _Jones Very_ 65 A Young Fir-Wood. By _Dante G. Rossetti_ 65 The Snowing of the Pines. By _Thomas W. Higginson_ 66 The Procession of the Flowers. By _Sydney Dobell_ 67 Sweet Peas. By _John Keats_ 68 A Snowdrop. By _Harriet Prescott Spofford_ 69 Almond Blossom. By _Sir Edwin Arnold_ 69 Wild Rose. By _William Allingham_ 70 Tiger-Lilies. By _Thomas Bailey Aldrich_ 71 To the Fringed Gentian. By _William Cullen Bryant_ 72 To a Mountain Daisy. By _Robert Burns_ 73 Bind-Weed. By _Susan Coolidge_ 74 The Rhodora. By _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 76 A Song of Clover. By "_Saxe Holm_" 76 To the Dandelion (Extract). By _James Russell Lowell_ 77 To Daffodils. By _Robert Herrick_ 78 The Daffodils. By _William Wordsworth_ 79 The White Anemone. By _Owen Meredith_ 80 The Grass. By _Emily Dickinson_ 81 The Corn-Song. By _John G. Whittier_ 82 Columbia's Emblem. By _Edna Dean Proctor_ 84 Scythe Song. By _Andrew Lang_ 86 Time to Go. By _Susan Coolidge_ 86 The Death of the Flowers. By _William Cullen Bryant_ 88 Autumn's Mirth. By _Samuel Minturn Peck_ 90 ON THE WING Sing On, Blithe Bird. By _William Motherwell_ 93 To a Skylark. By _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 94 Sir Lark and King Sun: A Parable. By _George Macdonald_ 99 The Skylark. By _Frederick Tennyson_ 101 The Skylark. By _James Hogg_ 102 The Bobolinks. By _Christopher P. Cranch_ 103 To a Waterfowl. By _William Cullen Bryant_ 105 Goldfinches. By _John Keats_ 107 The Sandpiper. By _Celia Thaxter_ 107 The Eagle. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 109 Child's Talk in April. By _Christina G. Rossetti_ 109 The Flight of the Birds. By _Edmund Clarence Stedman_ 111 The Shepherd's Home. By _William Shenstone_ 112 To a Cricket. By _William C. Bennett_ 113 On the Grasshopper and Cricket. By _John Keats_ 114 The Tax-Gatherer. By _John B. Tabb_ 114 To the Grasshopper and the Cricket. By _Leigh Hunt_ 115 The Bee. By _Emily Dickinson_ 116 The Humble-Bee. By _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 116 All Things Wait Upon Thee. By _Christina G. Rossetti_ 119 Providence. By _Reginald Heber_ 119 THE INGLENOOK A New Household. By _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 121 Two Heavens. By _Leigh Hunt_ 121 A Song of Love. By "_Lewis Carroll_" 122 Mother's Song. _Unknown_ 123 The Bonniest Bairn in a' the Warl'. By _Robert Ford_ 125 Cuddle Doon. By _Alexander Anderson_ 126 I am Lonely. By _George Eliot_ 128 Brother and Sister. By _George Eliot_ 129 Home. By _William Ernest Henley_ 131 Love Will Find Out the Way. _Unknown_ 133 The Sailor's Wife. By _William J. Mickle_ 134 Evening at the Farm. By _John Townsend Trowbridge_ 136 Home Song. By _Henry W. Longfellow_ 138 Étude Réaliste. By _Algernon C. Swinburne_ 139 We Are Seven. By _William Wordsworth_ 141 FAIRY SONGS AND SONGS OF FANCY Puck and the Fairy. By _William Shakespeare_ 145 Lullaby for Titania. By _William Shakespeare_ 146 Oberon and Titania to the Fairy Train. By _William Shakespeare_ 147 Ariel's Songs. By _William Shakespeare_ 147 Orpheus with His Lute. By _William Shakespeare_ 149 The Arming of Pigwiggen. By _Michael Drayton_ 149 Hesperus' Song. By _Ben Jonson_ 151 L'Allegro (Extracts). By _John Milton_ 152 Sabrina Fair. By _John Milton_ 157 Alexander's Feast. By _John Dryden_ 158 Kubla Khan. By _Samuel Taylor Coleridge_ 160 The Magic Car Moved On. By _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 162 Arethusa. By _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 165 The Culprit Fay (Extracts). By _Joseph Rodman Drake_ 168 A Myth. By _Charles Kingsley_ 173 The Fairy Folk. By _William Allingham_ 174 The Merman. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 177 The Mermaid. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 178 Bugle Song. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 181 The Raven. By _Edgar Allan Poe_ 182 The Bells. By _Edgar Allan Poe_ 189 SPORTS AND PASTIMES Blowing Bubbles. By _William Allingham_ 195 Bicycling Song. By _Henry C. Beeching_ 196 Going A Maying. By _Robert Herrick_ 197 Jog On, Jog On. By _William Shakespeare_ 200 A Vagabond Song. By _Bliss Carman_ 201 Swimming. By _Algernon C. Swinburne_ 201 Swimming. By _Lord Byron_ 202 The Angler's Reveille. By _Henry van Dyke_ 203 The Angler's Invitation. By _Thomas Tod Stoddart_ 207 Skating. By _William Wordsworth_ 207 Reading. By _Elizabeth Barrett Browning_ 209 On First Looking Into Chapman's Homer. By _John Keats_ 210 Music's Silver Sound. By _William Shakespeare_ 210 The Power of Music. By _William Shakespeare_ 211 Descend, Ye Nine! By _Alexander Pope_ 212 Old Song. By _Edward Fitzgerald_ 213 The Barefoot Boy. By _John G. Whittier_ 214 Leolin and Edith. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 218 Going A-Nutting. By _Edmund Clarence Stedman_ 219 Whittling. By _John Pierpont_ 220 Hunting Song. By _Sir Walter Scott_ 222 The Hunter's Song. By _Barry Cornwall_ 223 The Blood Horse. By _Barry Cornwall_ 225 The Northern Seas. By _William Howitt_ 226 The Needle. By _Samuel Woodwork_ 228 A GARDEN OF GIRLS A Portrait. By _Elizabeth Barrett Browning_ 231 Little Bell. By _Thomas Westwood_ 234 A Child of Twelve. By _Percy Bysshe Shelley_ 237 Chloe. By _Robert Burns_ 238 O, Mally's Meek, Mally's Sweet. By _Robert Burns_ 239 Who Is Silvia? By _William Shakespeare_ 240 To Mistress Margaret Hussey. By _John Skelton_ 240 Ruth. By _Thomas Hood_ 242 My Peggy. By _Allan Ramsay_ 243 Annie Laurie. By _William Douglas_ 243 Lucy. By _William Wordsworth_ 245 Jessie. By _Bret Harte_ 246 Olivia. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 247 Nikolina. By _Celia Thaxter_ 248 The Solitary Reaper. By _William Wordsworth_ 249 Helena and Hermia. By _William Shakespeare_ 250 Phyllis. By _William Drummond_ 251 So Sweet is She. By _Ben Jonson_ 251 I Love My Jean. By _Robert Burns_ 252 My Nannie's Awa'. By _Robert Burns_ 253 THE WORLD OF WATERS To the Ocean. By _Lord Byron_ 255 A Life on the Ocean Wave. By _Epes Sargent_ 257 The Sea. By _Barry Cornwall_ 258 A Sea-Song. By _Allan Cunningham_ 259 A Visit from the Sea. By _Robert Louis Stevenson_ 261 Drifting. By _Thomas Buchanan Read_ 262 Tacking Ship Off Shore. By _Walter Mitchell_ 265 Windlass Song. By _William Allingham_ 268 The Coral Grove. By _James Gates Percival_ 269 The Shell. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 270 Bermudas. By _Andrew Marvell_ 272 Where Lies the Land? By _Arthur Hugh Clough_ 273 FOR HOME AND COUNTRY The First, Best Country. By _Oliver Goldsmith_ 275 My Native Land. By _Sir Walter Scott_ 276 Loyalty. By _Allan Cunningham_ 276 My Heart's in the Highlands. By _Robert Burns_ 277 The Minstrel Boy. By _Thomas Moore_ 278 The Harp that Once Through Tara's Halls. By _Thomas Moore_ 279 Fife and Drum. By _John Dryden_ 280 The Cavalier's Song. By _William Motherwell_ 280 The Old Scottish Cavalier. By _Wm. Edmondstoune Aytoun_ 281 The Song of the Camp. By _Bayard Taylor_ 284 Border Ballad. By _Sir Walter Scott_ 286 Gathering Song of Donuil Dhu. By _Sir Walter Scott_ 287 The Reveille. By _Bret Harte_ 288 Ye Mariners of England. By _Thomas Campbell_ 290 The Knight's Tomb. By _Samuel Taylor Coleridge_ 292 How Sleep the Brave! By _William Collins_ 292 Dirge. By _Thomas William Parsons_ 293 The Burial of Sir John Moore. By _Charles Wolfe_ 295 Soldier, Rest! By _Sir Walter Scott_ 296 Recessional. By _Rudyard Kipling_ 297 The Fatherland. By _James Russell Lowell_ 298 NEW WORLD AND OLD GLORY Dear Land of All My Love. By _Sidney Lanier_ 301 Columbus. By _Joaquin Miller_ 301 Pocahontas. By _William Makepeace Thackeray_ 303 Landing of the Pilgrim Fathers. By _Felicia Hemans_ 305 The Twenty-second of December. By _William Cullen Bryant_ 306 Washington. By _James Russell Lowell_ 307 Warren's Address. By _John Pierpont_ 308 Carmen Bellicosum. By _Guy Humphreys McMaster_ 309 The American Flag. By _Joseph Rodman Drake_ 311 Old Ironsides. By _Oliver Wendell Holmes_ 312 Indians. By _Charles Sprague_ 313 Crossing the Plains. By _Joaquin Miller_ 314 Concord Hymn. By _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 315 Ode. By _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 316 Stanzas on Freedom. By _James Russell Lowell_ 317 Abraham Lincoln. By _Richard Henry Stoddard_ 318 Lincoln, the Great Commoner. By _Edwin Markham_ 319 Abraham Lincoln. By _Henry Howard Brownell_ 321 O Captain! My Captain! By _Walt Whitman_ 323 The Flag Goes By. By _Henry Holcomb Bennett_ 324 The Black Regiment. By _George Henry Boker_ 326 Night Quarters. By _Henry Howard Brownell_ 329 Battle-Hymn of the Republic. By _Julia Ward Howe_ 331 Sheridan's Ride. By _Thomas Buchanan Read_ 332 Song of the Negro Boatman. By _John G. Whittier_ 335 Barbara Frietchie. By _John G. Whittier_ 337 Two Veterans. By _Walt Whitman_ 340 Stand by the Flag! By _John Nichols Wilder_ 342 At Gibraltar. By _George Edward Woodberry_ 343 Faith and Freedom. By _William Wordsworth_ 345 Our Mother Tongue. By _Lord Houghton_ 345 The English Language (Extracts). By _William Wetmore Story_ 346 To America. By _Alfred Austin_ 347 The Name of Old Glory. By _James Whitcomb Riley_ 349 IN MERRY MOOD On a Favorite Cat, Drowned in a Tub of Goldfishes. By _Thomas Gray_ 353 The Priest and the Mulberry Tree. By _Thomas Love Peacock_ 355 The Council of Horses. By _John Gay_ 356 The Diverting History of John Gilpin. By _William Cowper_ 359 To a Child of Quality. By _Matthew Prior_ 369 Charade. By _Winthrop M. Praed_ 370 A Riddle. By _Hannah More_ 371 A Riddle. By _Jonathan Swift_ 372 A Riddle. By _Catherine M. Fanshawe_ 373 Feigned Courage. By _Charles and Mary Lamb_ 374 Baucis and Philemon. By _Jonathan Swift_ 375 The Lion and the Cub. By _John Gay_ 378 Elegy on the Death of a Mad Dog. By _Oliver Goldsmith_ 379 The Walrus and the Carpenter. By "_Lewis Carroll_" 381 Song of the Turtle and Flamingo. By _James T. Fields_ 385 Captain Reece. By _William S. Gilbert_ 387 The Cataract of Lodore. By _Robert Southey_ 391 The Enchanted Shirt. By _John Hay_ 395 Made in the Hot Weather. By _William Ernest Henley_ 398 The Housekeeper. By _Charles Lamb_ 400 The Monkey. By _Mary Howitt_ 401 November. By _Thomas Hood_ 402 Captain Sword. By _Leigh Hunt_ 403 STORY POEMS: ROMANCE AND REALITY The Singing Leaves. By _James Russell Lowell_ 407 Seven Times Two. By _Jean Ingelow_ 411 The Long White Seam. By _Jean Ingelow_ 413 Hannah Binding Shoes. By _Lucy Larcom_ 414 Lord Ullin's Daughter. By _Thomas Campbell_ 416 The King of Denmark's Ride. By _Caroline E. Norton_ 418 The Shepherd to His Love. By _Christopher Marlowe_ 420 Ballad. By _Charles Kingsley_ 422 Romance of the Swan's Nest. By _Elizabeth Barrett Browning_ 423 Lochinvar. By _Sir Walter Scott_ 427 Jock of Hazeldean. By _Sir Walter Scott_ 430 The Lady of Shalott. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 431 The High Tide on the Coast of Lincolnshire. By _Jean Ingelow_ 438 The Forsaken Merman. By _Matthew Arnold_ 444 The Sands of Dee. By _Charles Kingsley_ 450 The "Gray Swan." By _Alice Gary_ 452 The Wreck of the Hesperus. By _Henry W. Longfellow_ 454 A Greyport Legend. By _Bret Harte_ 458 The Glove and the Lions. By _Leigh Hunt_ 460 How's My Boy? By _Sydney Dobell_ 462 The Child-Musician. By _Austin Dobson_ 463 How They Brought the Good News from Ghent to Aix. By _Robert Browning_ 464 The Inchcape Rock. By _Robert Southey_ 468 A Night with a Wolf. By _Bayard Taylor_ 471 The Dove of Dacca. By _Rudyard Kipling_ 472 The Abbot of Inisfalen. By _William Allingham_ 474 The Cavalier's Escape. By _George Walter Thornbury_ 479 The Pied Piper of Hamelin. By _Robert Browning_ 480 Hervé Riel. By _Robert Browning_ 493 Vision of Belshazzar. By _Lord Byron_ 500 Solomon and the Bees. By _John G. Saxe_ 502 The Burial of Moses. By _Cecil Frances Alexander_ 504 WHEN BANNERS ARE WAVING When Banners Are Waving. _Unknown_ 509 Battle of the Baltic. By _Thomas Campbell_ 511 The Pipes at Lucknow. By _John Greenleaf Whittier_ 514 The Battle of Agincourt. By _Michael Drayton_ 517 The Battle of Blenheim. By _Robert Southey_ 522 The Armada. By _Lord Macaulay_ 524 Ivry. By _Lord Macaulay_ 530 On the Loss of the Royal George. By _William Cowper_ 535 The Charge of the Light Brigade. By _Alfred, Lord Tennyson_ 537 Bannockburn. By _Robert Burns_ 539 The Night Before Waterloo. By _Lord Byron_ 540 Hohenlinden. By _Thomas Campbell_ 542 Incident of the French Camp. By _Robert Browning_ 544 Marco Bozzaris. By _Fitz-Greene Halleck_ 545 The Destruction of Sennacherib. By _Lord Byron_ 548 TALES OF THE OLDEN TIME Sir Patrick Spens. _Old Ballad_ 551 The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington. _Old Ballad_ 555 King John and the Abbot of Canterbury. _Old Ballad_ 558 Lord Beichan and Susie Pye. _Old Ballad_ 563 The Gay Gos-hawk. _Old Ballad_ 569 Earl Mar's Daughter. _Old Ballad_ 576 Chevy-Chace. _Old Ballad_ 582 Hynde Horn. _Old Ballad_ 593 Glenlogie. _Old Ballad_ 597 LIFE LESSONS Life. By _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 601 In a Child's Album. By _William Wordsworth_ 602 To-Day. By _Thomas Carlyle_ 602 The Noble Nature. By _Ben Jonson_ 603 Forbearance. By _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 603 The Chambered Nautilus. By _Oliver Wendell Holmes_ 604 Duty. By _Ralph Waldo Emerson_ 605 On His Blindness. By _John Milton_ 606 Sir Launfal and the Leper. By _James Russell Lowell_ 606 Opportunity. By _Edward Rowland Sill_ 608 Abou Ben Adhem and the Angel. By _Leigh Hunt_ 609 Be True. By _Horatio Bonar_ 610 The Shepherd Boy Sings in the Valley of Humiliation. By _John Bunyan_ 610 A Turkish Legend. By _Thomas Bailey Aldrich_ 611 Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard. By _Thomas Gray_ 612 Polonius to Laertes. By _William Shakespeare_ 618 The Olive-Tree. By _S. Baring-Gould_ 619 Coronation. By _H. H._ 620 December. By _John Keats_ 622 The End of the Play. By _William Makepeace Thackeray_ 623 A Farewell. By _Charles Kingsley_ 625 A Boy's Prayer. By _Henry C. Beeching_ 626 Chartless. By _Emily Dickinson_ 626 Peace. By _Henry Vaughan_ 627 Consider. By _Christina G. Rossetti_ 628 The Elixir. By _George Herbert_ 629 One by One. By _Adelaide A. Procter_ 629 The Commonwealth of the Bees. By _William Shakespeare_ 631 The Pilgrim. By _John Bunyan_ 632 Be Useful. By _George Herbert_ 633 THE GLAD EVANGEL A Christmas Carol. By _Josiah Gilbert Holland_ 635 The Angels. By _William Drummond_ 636 While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night. By _Margaret Deland_ 637 The Star Song. By _Robert Herrick_ 638 Hymn for Christmas. By _Felicia Hemans_ 639 New Prince, New Pomp. By _Robert Southwell_ 640 The Three Kings. By _Henry Wadsworth Longfellow_ 641 The Three Kings. By _Eugene Field_ 644 A Christmas Hymn. By _Alfred Dommett_ 646 O Little Town of Bethlehem. By _Phillips Brooks_ 648 While Shepherds Watched Their Flocks by Night. By _Nahum Tate_ 649 Christmas Carol. _Old English_ 650 Old Christmas. By _Mary Howitt_ 652 God Rest Ye, Merry Gentlemen. By _Dinah Maria Mulock_ 653 Minstrels and Maids. By _William Morris_ 654 An Ode on the Birth of Our Saviour. By _Robert Herrick_ 656 Old Christmas Returned. _Old English_ 657 Ceremonies for Christmas. By _Robert Herrick_ 658 Christmas in England. By _Sir Walter Scott_ 659 The Gracious Time. By _William Shakespeare_ 661 Brightest and Best of the Sons of the Morning. By _Reginald Heber_ 661 INTRODUCTION _On the Reading of Poetry_ There is no doubt, I fear, that certain people are born without, as certain other people are born with, a love of poetry. Any natural gift is a great advantage, of course, be it physical, mental, or spiritual. The dear old tales which suggest the presence of fairies at the cradle of the new-born child, dealing out, not very impartially, talents, charms, graces, are not so far from the real truth. You may have been given a straight nose, a rosy cheek, a courteous manner, a lively wit, a generous disposition; but perhaps the Fairy Fine-Ear, who hears the grass grow, and the leaf-buds throb, had a pressing engagement at somebody else's cradle-side when you most needed her benefactions. There is another elf too, a Dame o' Dreams; she is clad all in color-of-rose, and when she touches your eyelids you see visions forever after; beautiful haunting things hidden from duller eyes, visions made of stars and dew and magic. Never any great poet lived but these two fairies were present at his birth, and it may be that they stole a moment to visit you. If such was the case you love, need, crave poetry, to understand yourself, your neighbor, the world, God; and you will find that nothing else will satisfy you so completely as the years go on. If, on the other hand, these highly mythical but interesting personages were absent when the question of your natural endowment was being settled, do not take it too much to heart, but try to make good the deficiencies. You must have liked the rhymes and jingles of your nursery-days: Ride a Cock-horse To Banbury Cross! or Mistress Mary quite contrary How does your garden grow? I am certain you remember what pleasure it gave you to make "contrary" rhyme with "Mary" instead of pronouncing it in the proper and prosy way. "But" you answer, "I did indeed like that sort of verse, and am still fond of it when it dances and prances, or trips and patters and tinkles; it is what is termed "sublime" poetry that is dull and difficult to understand; the verb is always a long distance from its subject; the punctuation comes in the middle of the lines, so that it reads like prose in spite of one, and it is generally sprinkled with allusions to Calypso, Oedipus, Eurydice, Hesperus, Corydon, Arethusa, and the Acroceraunian Mountains; or at any rate with people and places which one has to look up in the atlas and dictionary." Of course, all poems are not equally simple in sound and sense. It does not require much intelligence to read or chant Poe's Raven, and if one does not quite understand it, one is so taken captive by the weird, haunting music of the lines, the recurrence of phrases and repetition of words, that one does not think about its meaning: "While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping, As of some one gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door. ''Tis some visitor, I muttered, 'tapping at my chamber door-- Only this, and nothing more.'" The moment, however, that your eye falls upon the following lines from "Paradise Lost" you confess privately that if you were obliged to parse and analyze them the task would cause you a weary half-hour with Lindley Murray or Quackenbos. "Adam the goodliest man of men since born His sons; the fairest of her daughters Eve. Under a tuft of shade that on a green Stood whispering soft, by a fresh fountain-side, They sat them down;" Very well then, do not try to parse them; Paradise Lost was not written exclusively for the grammarians; content yourself with enjoying the picture; the frisking of the beasts of the earth, while Adam and Eve watched them from a fountain-side in Paradise. No one need be ashamed of liking a good deal of rhyme and rhythm, swing and movement and melody in poetry; absolute perfection of form, though all too rarely attained, is one of the chief delights of the verse-lover. "_The procession of beautiful sounds that is a poem,_" says Walter Raleigh. It is quite natural to love the music of verse before you catch the deeper thought, and you feel, in some of the greatest poetry, as if only the angels could have put the melodious words together. There is more in this music than meets the eye or ear; it is what differentiates prose from poetry, which, to quote Wordsworth, is the breath and finer spirit of all knowledge. Prose it is said can never be too truthful or too wise, but song is more than mere Truth and Wisdom, it is the "rose upon Truth's lips, the light in Wisdom's eyes." That is why the thought in it finds its way to the very heart of one and makes one glow and tremble, fills one with desire to do some splendid action, right some wrong, be something other than one is, more noble, more true, more patient, more courageous. We who have selected the poems in this book have had to keep in mind the various kinds of young people who are to read it. The boys may wish that there were more story and battle poems, and verses ringing with spirited and war-like adventures; the girls may think that there are too many already; while both, perhaps, may miss certain old favorites like Horatius or The Ancient Mariner, omitted because of their great length. Some of you will yawn if the book flies open at Milton; some will be bored whenever they chance upon Pope; others will never read Wordsworth except on compulsion. Romantic little maids will turn away from "Tacking Ship off Shore," while their brothers will disdain "The Swan's Nest Among the Reeds"; but it was necessary to make the book for all sorts and conditions of readers, and such a volume must contain a taste of the best things, whether your special palate is ready for them or not. When you are twenty-one you may say, loftily, "I do not care for Pope and Dryden, I prefer Spenser and Tennyson, or Ben Jonson and Herrick," or whatever you really do prefer,--but now, although, of course, you have your personal likes and dislikes, you cannot be sure that they are based on anything real or that they will stand the test of time and experience. So you will find between these covers we hope, a little of everything good, for we have searched the pages of the great English-speaking poets to find verses that you would either love at first sight, or that you would grow to care for as you learn what is worthy to be loved. Where we found one beautiful verse, quite simple and wholly beautiful, we have given you that, if it held a complete thought or painted a picture perfect in itself, even although we omitted the very next one, which perhaps would have puzzled and wearied the younger ones with its involved construction or difficult phraseology. Will you think, I wonder, that this very simple talk is too informal to be quite proper when one remembers that it is to serve as introduction to the greatest poets that ever lived? Informality is very charming in its place, no doubt (for so the thought might cross your mind), but one does not use it with kings and queens; still the least things, you know, may sometimes explain or interpret the greatest. The brook might say, "I am nothing in myself, I know, but I am showing you the way to the ocean; follow on if you wish to see something really vast and magnificent." There are besides gracious courtesies to be observed on certain occasions. If a famous poet or author should chance to come to your village or city and appear before the people, someone would have to introduce the stranger and commend him to your attention; and if he did it modestly it would only be an act of kindliness; a wish to serve you and at the same time bespeak for him a gentle and a friendly hearing. Once introduced--Presto, change! If he is a great poet he is a great wizard; the words he uses, the method and manner in which he uses them, the cadence of his verse, the thoughts he calls to your mind, the way he brings the quick color to your cheek and the tear to your eye, all these savor of magic, nothing else. Who could be less than modest in his presence? Who could but wish to bring the whole world under his spell? You will readily be modest, too, when you confront these splendid poems, even although some of you may not wholly comprehend as yet their grandeur and their majesty; may not fully understand their claim to immortality. Where is there a girl who would not make a low curtsey to Shakespeare's Silvia, Milton's Sabrina, Wordsworth's Lucy, or Mrs. Browning's Elizabeth? And if there is a boy who could stand with his head covered before Horatius, Hervé Riel, Sir Launfal, or Motherwell's Cavalier he is not one of those we had in mind when we made this book. Neither is it altogether the personality of hero or heroine that fills us with reverence; it is the beauty and perfection of the poem itself that almost brings us to our knees in worship. A little later on you will have the same feeling of admiration and awe for Shelley's Skylark, Emerson's Snow Storm, Wordsworth's Daffodils, Keats's Daybreak, and for many another poem not included in this book, to which you must hope to grow. For it is a matter of growth after all, and growth, in mind and spirit, as in body, is largely a matter of will. It is all ours, the beauty in the world: your task is merely to enter into possession. Chaucer, Spenser, and Shakespeare are yours as much as another's. The great treasury of inspiring thoughts that has been heaped together as the ages went by, that "rich deposit of the centuries," is your heritage; if you wish to assert your heirship no one can say you nay; if you will to be a Croesus in the things of the mind and spirit, no one can ever keep you poor. We have brought you only English verse, so you must wait for the years to give you Homer, Virgil, Dante, Goethe, Schiller, Victor Hugo, and many another; and of English verse we have only given a hint of the treasures in store for you later on. We have quoted you poems from the grand old masters, those "bards sublime," "Whose distant footsteps echo Through the corridors of Time," and many a verse:-- --"from some humbler poet Whose songs gushed from his heart As showers from the clouds of summer, Or tears from the eyelids start; Who through long days of labor, And nights devoid of ease, Still heard in his soul the music Of wonderful melodies." Since you will not like everything in the book equally well, may we advise you how to use it? First find something you know and love, and read it over again. (Penitent, indeed, shall we be if it has been omitted!) The meeting will be like one with a dear playfellow and friend in a new and strange house, and the house will seem less strange after you have met and welcomed the friend. Then search the pages until you see a verse that speaks to you instantly, catches your eye, begs you to read it, willy-nilly. There are dozens of such poems in this collection, as simple as if they had been written for six-year-olds instead of for the grown-up English-speaking world: little masterpieces like Tennyson's Brook, Kingsley's Clear and Cool, Shakespeare's Fairy Songs, Burns's Mountain Daisy, Emerson's Rhodora, Motherwell's Blithe Bird, Hogg's Skylark, Wordsworth's Pet Lamb, Scott's Ballads, and scores of others. This so far is pure pleasure, but why not, as another step, find something difficult, something you instinctively draw back from? It will probably be Milton, Pope, Dryden, Browning, or Shelley. You cannot find any "story" in it; its rhymes do not run trippingly off the tongue; there are a few strange and unpronounceable words, the punctuation and phrasing puzzle you, and worse than all you are obliged to read it two or three times before you really understand its meaning. Very well, that is nothing to be ashamed of, and you surely do not want to be vanquished by a difficulty. You will realize some time or other that all learning, like all life, is a sort of obstacle race in which the strongest wins. I once said to a dear old minister who was preaching to a very ignorant and unlearned congregation, "It must be very difficult, sir, for you to preach down to them"; for he was a man of rare scholarship and true wisdom;--"I try to be very simple a part of the time," he answered, "but not always; about once a month I fling the fodder so high in the rack that no man can catch at a single straw without stretching his neck!" Now pray do not laugh at that illustration; smile if you will, but it serves the purpose. Just as we develop our muscles by exercising our bodies, so do we grow strong mentally and spiritually by this "stretching" process. You are not obliged to love an impersonal, remote, or complex poem intimately and passionately, but read it faithfully if you do not wish to be wholly blind and deaf to beauties of sense or sound that happier people see and hear. Joubert says most truly: "You will find poetry nowhere unless you bring some with you," but there are some splendid things in verse as in prose that you stand in too great awe of to love in any real, childlike way. It is never scenes from Paradise Lost that run through your mind when you are going to sleep. It is something with a lilt, like: "Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men;" or a poem with a gallant action in it like Marco Bozzaris, or with a charming story like The Singing Leaves, or a mysterious and musical one, like Kubla Khan or The Bells, or something that when first you read it made you a little older and a little sadder, in an odd, unaccustomed way quite unlike that of real grief: "A feeling of sadness and longing That is not akin to pain And resembles sorrow only As the mist resembles rain." When you read that verse of Longfellow's afterwards you see that he has expressed your mood exactly. That is what it means to be a poet, and that is what poetry is always doing for us; revealing, translating thoughts we are capable of feeling, but not expressing. Perhaps you will not for a long time see the beauty of certain famous reflective poems like Gray's Elegy, but we must include a few of such things whether they appeal to you very strongly or not, merely because it is necessary that you should have an acquaintance, if not a friendship, with lines that the world by common consent has agreed to call immortal. They show you, without your being conscious of it, show you by their lines "all gold and seven times refined,"--how beautiful the English language can be when it is used by a master of style. Young people do not think or talk very much about style, but they come under its spell unconsciously and respond to its influence quickly enough. To give a sort of definition: style is a way of saying or writing a thing so that people are _compelled to listen._ When you grow sensitive to beauty of language you become, in some small degree at least, capable of using it yourself. You could not, for instance, read daily these "honey-tongued" poets without gathering a little sweetness for your own unruly member. There are certain spiritual lessons to be gained from many of these immortal poems, lessons which the oldest as well as the youngest might well learn. Turn to Milton's Ode on his Blindness. It is not easy reading, but you will begin to care for it when experience brings you the meaning of the line, "They also serve who only stand and wait." It is one of a class of poems that have been living forces from age to age; that have quickened aspiration, aroused energy, deepened conviction; that have infused a nobler ardor and loftier purpose into life wherever and whenever they were read. Prefacing each of the divisions of this volume you will find a page or "interleaf" of comment on, and appreciation of, the poems that follow. These pages you may read or not as you are minded; they are only friendly or informal letters from an old traveller to a pilgrim who has just taken his staff in hand. By and by you will add poem after poem to your list of favorites, and so, gradually, you will make your own volume of Golden Numbers, which will be far better than any book we can fashion for you. Perhaps you will copy single verses and whole poems in it and, later, learn them by heart. Such treasures of memory "will henceforth no longer be forgettable, detachable parts of your mind's furniture, but well-springs of instinct forever." KATE DOUGLAS WIGGIN. GOLDEN NUMBERS INTERLEAVES _A Chanted Calendar_ Here is the Year's Processional in verse; the story of her hours, her days, her seasons, told as only poets can, because they see and hear things not revealed to you and me, and are able by their magic to make us sharers in the revelation. Read the first six poems and ask yourself whether you have ever realized the glories of the common day; from the moment when morning from her orient chambers comes, and the lark at heaven's gate sings, to the hour when the moon, unveiling her peerless light, throws her silver mantle o'er the dark, and the firmament glows with living sapphires. It is the task of poetry not only to say noble things, but to say them nobly; having beautiful fancies, to clothe them in beautiful phrases, and if you search these poems you will find some of the most wonderful word-pictures in the English language. How charming Drayton's description of the summer breeze: "_The wind had no more strength than this, That leisurely it blew, To make one leaf the next to kiss That closely by it grew._" If the day is dreary you need only read Lowell's "June Weather," and like the bird sitting at his door in the sun, atilt like a blossom among the leaves, your "illumined being" will overrun with the "deluge of summer it receives." Then turn the page; the picture fades as you read Trowbridge's "Midwinter." The speckled sky is dim; the light flakes falter and fall slow; the chickadee sings cheerily; lo, the magic touch again and the house mates sit, as Emerson saw them, "_Around the radiant fireplace enclosed In a tumultuous privacy of storm._" I A CHANTED CALENDAR _Daybreak_ Day had awakened all things that be, The lark, and the thrush, and the swallow free, And the milkmaid's song, and the mower's scythe, And the matin bell and the mountain bee: Fireflies were quenched on the dewy corn, Glowworms went out, on the river's brim, Like lamps which a student forgets to trim: The beetle forgot to wind his horn, The crickets were still in the meadow and hill: Like a flock of rooks at a farmer's gun, Night's dreams and terrors, every one, Fled from the brains which are its prey, From the lamp's death to the morning ray. PERCY BYSSHE SHELLEY. _Morning_ Now morning from her orient chambers came, And her first footsteps touch'd a verdant hill: Crowning its lawny crest with amber flame, Silvering the untainted gushes of its rill, Which, pure from mossy beds of simple flowers By many streams a little lake did fill, Which round its marge reflected woven bowers, And, in its middle space, a sky that never lowers. JOHN KEATS. _A Morning Song_ Hark! hark! the lark at heaven's gate sings. And Phoebus 'gins arise, His steeds to water at those springs On chaliced flowers that lies; And winking Mary-buds begin To ope their golden eyes: With every thing that pretty bin, My lady sweet, arise: Arise, arise! WILLIAM SHAKESPEARE. _From "Cymbeline."_ _Evening in Paradise_ Now came still Evening on, and Twilight gray Had in her sober livery all things clad; Silence accompanied; for beast and bird-- They to their grassy couch, these to their nests, Were slunk, all but the wakeful nightingale; She all night long her amorous descant sung; Silence was pleased: now glowed the firmament With living sapphires: Hesperus, that led The starry host, rode brightest, till the Moon, Rising in clouded majesty, at length Apparent queen, unveiled her peerless light, And o'er the dark her silver mantle threw. JOHN MILTON. _From "Paradise Lost."_ _Evening Song_ Shepherds all, and maidens fair, Fold your flocks up, for the air 'Gins to thicken, and the sun Already his great course hath run. See the dew-drops how they kiss Every little flower that is, Hanging on their velvet heads, Like a rope of crystal beads: See the heavy clouds low falling, And bright Hesperus down calling The dead Night from under ground; At whose rising, mists unsound, Damps and vapors fly apace, Hovering o'er the wanton face Of these pastures, where they come, Striking dead both bud and bloom: Therefore, from such danger lock Every one his lovèd flock; And let your dogs lie loose without, Lest the wolf come as a scout From the mountain, and, ere day, Bear a lamb or kid away; Or the crafty thievish fox Break upon your simple flocks. To secure yourselves from these, Be not too secure in ease; Let one eye his watches keep, Whilst the other eye doth sleep; So you shall good shepherds prove, And for ever hold the love Of our great god. Sweetest slumbers, And soft silence, fall in numbers On your eyelids! So, farewell! Thus I end my evening's knell. JOHN FLETCHER. _Night_ How beautiful is night! A dewy freshness fills the silent air; No mist obscures, nor cloud, nor speck, nor stain, Breaks the serene of heaven: In full-orb'd glory yonder Moon divine Rolls through the dark-blue depths. Beneath her steady ray The desert-circle spreads, Like the round ocean, girdled with the sky. How beautiful is night! ROBERT SOUTHEY. _A Fine Day_ Clear had the day been from the dawn, All chequer'd was the sky, Thin clouds like scarfs of cobweb lawn Veil'd heaven's most glorious eye. The wind had no more strength than this, That leisurely it blew, To make one leaf the next to kiss That closely by it grew. MICHAEL DRAYTON. _The Seasons_ So forth issued the seasons of the year; First, lusty Spring, all dight in leaves of flowers That freshly budded, and new blooms did bear, In which a thousand birds had built their bowers. EDMUND SPENSER. _From "The Faerie Queene."_ _The Eternal Spring_ The birds their quire apply; airs, vernal airs, Breathing the smell of field and grove, attune The trembling leaves, while universal Pan, Knit with the Graces and the Hours in dance, Led on the eternal Spring. JOHN MILTON. _March_[1] The stormy March is come at last, With wind, and cloud, and changing skies; I hear the rushing of the blast That through the snowy valley flies. Ah, passing few are they who speak, Wild, stormy month, in praise of thee; Yet though thy winds are loud and bleak, Thou art a welcome month to me. For thou, to northern lands, again The glad and glorious sun dost bring; And thou hast joined the gentle train And wear'st the gentle name of Spring. Then sing aloud the gushing rills In joy that they again are free, And, brightly leaping down the hills, Renew their journey to the sea. Thou bring'st the hope of those calm skies, And that soft time of sunny showers, When the wide bloom, on earth that lies, Seems of a brighter world than ours. WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT. [Footnote 1: _By courtesy of D. Appleton & Co., publishers of Bryant's Complete Poetical Works._] _Spring_ Now that the winter's gone, the earth hath lost Her snow-white robes; and now no more the frost Candies the grass or casts an icy cream Upon the silver lake or crystal stream: But the warm sun thaws the benumbèd earth, And makes it tender; gives a sacred birth To the dead swallow; wakes in hollow tree The drowsy cuckoo and the bumble-bee. Now do a choir of chirping minstrels bring In triumph to the world the youthful spring! The valleys, hills, and woods, in rich array, Welcome the coming of the longed-for May. THOMAS CAREW. _Song to April_[2] April, April, Laugh thy girlish laughter; Then, the moment after, Weep thy girlish tears! April, that mine ears Like a lover greetest, If I tell thee, sweetest, All my hopes and fears, April, April, Laugh thy golden laughter, But the moment after, Weep thy golden tears! WILLIAM WATSON. [Footnote 2: _By courtesy of John Lane._] _April in England_ Oh, to be in England Now that April's there, And whoever wakes in England Sees, some morning, unaware, That the lowest boughs and the brushwood sheaf Round the elm-tree hole are in tiny leaf, While the chaffinch sings on the orchard bough In England--now! And after April, when May follows, And the whitethroat builds, and all the swallows! Hark! where my blossomed pear-tree in the hedge Leans to the field, and scatters on the clover Blossoms and dewdrops,--at the bent spray's edge-- That's the wise thrush; he sings each song twice over, Lest you should think he never could recapture The first fine careless rapture! And though the fields look rough with hoary dew, All will be gay when noontide wakes anew The buttercups, the little children's dower, --Far brighter than this gaudy melon flower. ROBERT BROWNING. _April and May_ April cold with dropping rain Willows and lilacs brings again, The whistle of returning birds, And trumpet-lowing of the herds; The scarlet maple-keys betray What potent blood hath modest May; What fiery force the earth renews, The wealth of forms, the flush of hues; What Joy in rosy waves outpoured, Flows from the heart of Love, the Lord. RALPH WALDO EMERSON. _From "May-Day."_ _May_ Then came fair May, the fairest maid on ground, Deck'd all with dainties of her season's pride, And throwing flowers out of her lap around: Upon two brethren's shoulders she did ride; The twins of Leda, which on either side Supported her like to their sovereign queen. Lord! how all creatures laught when her they spied, And leapt and danced as they had ravish'd been. And Cupid's self about her fluttered all in green. EDMUND SPENSER. _Song on May Morning_ Now the bright morning star, Day's harbinger, Comes dancing from the East, and leads with her
{'title': 'Golden Numbers: A Book of Verse for Youth by Smith and Wiggin', 'source': 'Project Gutenberg', 'lang': 'en'}