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About this book:

The Magical World of Poetry is an anthology of over one hundred ninety poetical works: some all-time favorites such as Annabel Lee, Paul Revere's Ride, and The Love Song of J. Alfred Prufrock; as well as many lesser known gems.

The book contains poems by Geoffrey Chaucer, William Shakespeare, Edgar Allan Poe, Sara Teasdale, Edgar Guest, Eugene Field, Emily Dickinson, Walt Whitman, T.S. Eliot, Robert Frost, Frances E. W. Harper, George Moses Horton, and many others.

The internet edition of this book can be read online here.

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Refreshing this page will randomly select another poem to be displayed at the right.

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The Magical World of Poetry was edited by
Mark James Wooding

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Notes on the text: I am not a scholar, and I make no pretense of this being a scholarly work. There are multiple versions of many of these poems, and as a general rule I tried to use the last printed version before the author's death. I don't claim to have done so in every case. With some of the older works I've left the archaic spelling, but not in every case. In the past what is now a "u" was written as "v", and "v" as "u" (which is probably why "w" is pronounced double "u" and not double "v"). I tried to avoid the older usages of "u" and "v". In a few works I used predominantly (but not necessarily exclusively) modern spelling. In most other works I left them as I found them. This may make them more difficult to read, but I found the diversity appealing. The decisions were largely subjective. I recommend that anyone who wants to try and research other versions begin with Google Books as a source. -MJW

Looking Back

by  Edgar Guest

I might have been rich if I'd wanted the gold instead of the friendships I've made.
I might have had fame if I'd sought for renown in the hours when I purposely played.
Now I'm standing to-day on the far edge of life, and I'm just looking backward to see
What I've done with the years and the days that were mine, and all that has happened to me.

I haven't built much of a fortune to leave to those who shall carry my name,
And nothing I've done shall entitle me now to a place on the tablets of fame.
But I've loved the great sky and its spaces of blue; I've lived with the birds and the trees;
I've turned from the splendor of silver and gold to share in such pleasures as these.

I've given my time to the children who came; together we've romped and we've played,
And I wouldn't exchange the glad hours spent with them for the money that I might have made.
I chose to be known and be loved by the few, and was deaf to the plaudits of men;
And I'd make the same choice should the chance come to me to live my life over again.

I've lived with my friends and I've shared in their joys, known sorrow with all of its tears;
I have harvested much from my acres of life, though some say I've squandered my years.
For much that is fine has been mine to enjoy, and I think I have lived to my best,
And I have no regret, as I'm nearing the end, for the gold that I might have possessed.






Website copyright © 2010 Mark James Wooding