The Momma Clan

One fine day , I went to my uncle’s old house…and Viola what I found there was an old book on poems. The name of the book is “An Oxford Book Of Story Poems” .The  first  edition  was printed in 1934 and the second edition was printed in 1964. I just fell in love with the book and would like to share a few poems from the book. The book costs only ₹1.60/- which was printed in Madras, now known as Chennai.

Did you know that Mary had a Little lamb, The  Lion and the Mouse are written by unknown writers. The book has 101 poems. Poems written by Tennyson, Longfellow, Wordsworth, Jane Taylor and many unknown poems. The book starts with a chat on reading story poems. It tells us a good poem is not only tuneful and musical, but it is also full of the poet’s feelings .These feelings may be of love, and hate or sorrow or wonder and whatever the poet wishes his poem to be filled.

One  may  see  dewdrops  on the  grass and  fancy  them  to sparkling diamonds; another may think the stars in the sky to be so  many  lamps  in the city  of  God;  a  third may regard the rainbow as a bridge made of bright and many coloured jewels on which fairies come down from heaven to earth. This he does because he has more imagination than others. Music, feelings, imagination make a great poem.

It also goes on to add about Paraphrasing. For example you may also reproduce the poem entirely in your own language in a way to bring out every idea or incident in it .The book gives an insight on how to paraphrase also. Here are a 3 short poems from the book that I have chosen for you to read.  There  are  very  long poems in the book. Hope you enjoy reading them:

Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead by Tennyson 

Home they brought her warrior dead

She nor swoon’d nor utter’d cry

All her maidens, watching, said, 

‘ She must weep or she will die.’

Then, they praised him soft and low

Call’d. him worthy to be loved 

Truest friend and noblest foe

Yet she neither spoke nor moved.

Stole a maiden from her place,

Lightly to the warrior step,

Took the face-cloth from the face;

Yet she neither moved or wept

Rose a nurse of ninety years

Set his child upon her knee

Like summer tempest came her tears

‘ Sweet, my child, I live for thee.’

The Bee and the Flower by Tennyson 

The bee buzz’d up in the heat 

‘I am faint for your honey, my sweet.’

The flower said, ‘Take it, my dear, 

For now is the spring of the year,

        So come, come!’

                               ‘Hum!’

And the bee buzz’d down from the heat.

And the bee buzz’d up in the cold

When the flower was withered and old,

‘Have you still any honey , my dear?’ 

She said ‘ It’s the fall of the year, 

          But come, come!’

                             ‘Hum!’

And the bee buzz’d off in the cold.

Where are you going, My Pretty Maid? by Unknown 

‘ Where are you going, my pretty maid?’

‘I am going a milking, sir ,’ she said

‘May I go with you, my pretty maid?’

‘Yes, if you please, kind sir,’ she said.

‘What is your father, my pretty maid?’

‘My face is my fortune, sir,’ she said.

Then I can’t marry you, my pretty maid.’

‘Nobody asked you, sir !’ she said.

The book is very delicate and I found it very hard to turn the pages, as they keep tearing. However, it’s a rare find to read and cherish!

Anu Budhrani, India