She is Far from the Land by Thomas Moore

She is far from the land, where her young hero sleeps,
And lovers are round her, sighing;
But coldly she turns from their gaze, and weeps,
For her heart in his grave is lying!

She sings the wild song of her dear native plains,
Every note which he lov'd awaking
Ah! little they think, who delight in her strains,
How the heart of the Minstrel is breaking!

He had lov'd for his love, for his country he died,
They were all that to life had entwin'd him,
Nor soon shall the tears of his country be dried,
Nor long will his love stay behind him.

Oh! make her a grave, where the sun-beams rest,
When they promise a glorious morrow;
They'll shine o'er her sleep, like a smile from the West,
From her own lov'd Island of sorrow!

Annabel Lee by Edgar Allan Poe

It was many and many a year ago,
In a kingdom by the sea,
That a maiden there lived whom you may know
By the name of ANNABEL LEE;
And this maiden she lived with no other thought
Than to love and be loved by me.

I was a child and she was a child,
In this kingdom by the sea;
But we loved with a love that was more than love-
I and my Annabel Lee;
With a love that the winged seraphs of heaven
Coveted her and me.

And this was the reason that, long ago,
In this kingdom by the sea,
A wind blew out of a cloud, chilling
My beautiful Annabel Lee;
So that her highborn kinsman came
And bore her away from me,
To shut her up in a sepulchre
In this kingdom by the sea.

The angels, not half so happy in heaven,
Went envying her and me-
Yes!- that was the reason (as all men know,
In this kingdom by the sea)
That the wind came out of the cloud by night,
Chilling and killing my Annabel Lee.

But our love it was stronger by far than the love
Of those who were older than we-
Of many far wiser than we-
And neither the angels in heaven above,
Nor the demons down under the sea,
Can ever dissever my soul from the soul
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee.

For the moon never beams without bringing me dreams
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And the stars never rise but I feel the bright eyes
Of the beautiful Annabel Lee;
And so, all the night-tide, I lie down by the side
Of my darling- my darling- my life and my bride,
In the sepulchre there by the sea,
In her tomb by the sounding sea.

The Twelve Dancing Princesses by Brothers Grimm.

 There was a king who had twelve beautiful daughters. They slept in twelve beds all in one room and when they went to bed, the doors were shut and locked up. However, every morning their shoes were found to be quite worn through as if they had been danced in all night. Nobody could find out how it happened, or where the princesses had been.
So the king made it known to all the land that if any person could discover the secret and find out where it was that the princesses danced in the night, he would have the one he liked best to take as his wife, and would be king after his death. But whoever tried and did not succeed, after three days and nights, they would be put to death.
A king's son soon came. He was well entertained, and in the evening was taken to the chamber next to the one where the princesses lay in their twelve beds. There he was to sit and watch where they went to dance; and, in order that nothing could happen without him hearing it, the door of his chamber was left open. But the king's son soon fell asleep; and when he awoke in the morning he found that the princesses had all been dancing, for the soles of their shoes were full of holes. The same thing happened the second and third night and so the king ordered his head to be cut off.
After him came several others; but they all had the same luck, and all lost their lives in the same way.
Now it happened that an old soldier, who had been wounded in battle and could fight no longer, passed through the country where this king reigned, and as he was travelling through a wood, he met an old woman, who asked him where he was going. 'I hardly know where I am going, or what I had better do,' said the soldier; 'but I think I would like to find out where it is that the princesses dance, and then in time I might be a king.'

'Well,' said the old woman, 'that is not a very hard task: only take care not to drink any of the wine which one of the princesses will bring to you in the evening; and as soon as she leaves you pretend to be fast asleep.'
Then she gave him a cloak, and said, 'As soon as you put that on you will become invisible, and you will then be able to follow the princesses wherever they go.' When the soldier heard all this good advice, he was determined to try his luck, so he went to the king, and said he was willing to undertake the task.
He was as well received as the others had been, and the king ordered fine royal robes to be given him; and when the evening came he was led to the outer chamber.
Just as he was going to lie down, the eldest of the princesses brought him a cup of wine; but the soldier threw it all away secretly, taking care not to drink a drop. Then he laid himself down on his bed, and in a little while began to snore very loudly as if he was fast asleep.
When the twelve princesses heard this they laughed heartily; and the eldest said, 'This fellow too might have done a wiser thing than lose his life in this way!' Then they rose and opened their drawers and boxes, and took out all their fine clothes, and dressed themselves at the mirror, and skipped about as if they were eager to begin dancing.

Biography of Robert Browning

Henry James wrote of Robert Browning, in relation to the poet's burial at Canterbury: "None of the odd ones have been so great and none of the great ones so odd." One of the most enduring Victorian poets, Browning is renowned for both his virtuosity of language and eccentricity of subjects. His sense of psychology precedes Freud, and his refusal to commit to any prevailing worldview marks him as a precursor to modernist thought.

Robert Browning was born on May 7, 1812. Due to both his natural brilliance and the support of an educated father, he accomplished himself as a writer, scholar and musician early in life. He realized his calling as a poet when he was introduced to the work of P.B. Shelley. From Shelley, Browning developed the Romantic ideal, which sought to find transcendence through exploration of the individual's sensibility. Though he would later renounce it in favor of what he saw as a more sophisticated approach, Browning's early life and work was largely defined by this sensibility.

Browning's attempts at education proved unsuccessful; he tried several vocations and dropped out of university several times. His first published work, Pauline, was a great success in 1833. But his subsequent publication, a long, difficult poem called Sordello, was a great failure. It was the first time he would be labeled difficult and obscure, a charge that would haunt his reputation and his work for most of his life. His subsequent foray into writing stage plays saw brief success but ultimately led to him being criticized as unfit for the dramatic form because of his lyrical flourishes and overly intellectual approach.

He continued to publish – next through a series known as Bells and Pomegranates – to middling success, even though he was beginning to establish the dramatic monologue form that would ensure his legacy. This form uses a narrator, usually of dubious morality, who addresses someone in a high-stakes situation. His most famous works were written in this form, including "Porphyria's Lover" and "My Last Duchess." These works helped cement his interest in psychological complexity and the human tendency to constantly shift perspectives and opinions.

Browning's life greatly improved when, in 1845, he fell in love with poet Elizabeth Barrett through her work and began to visit her. Elizabeth was a long-time invalid who lived secluded in her London home under an extremely over-protective father, all circumstances that meant the two had to elope in order to marry; they were disowned by Mr. Barrett. Nevertheless, the poets lived a happy life together, mostly in Italy, where they had a son named Pen. In 1855, Browning published a collection called Men and Women, which contains most of his best known poems but was again only a modest success, especially when compared to Elizabeth's work, which was quite popular.

After Elizabeth died in 1861, a distraught Browning moved back to London, where he would finally achieve the success that had long eluded him. He published other collections like Dramatis Personae, but it was his long work The Ring and the Book that finally made him famous. His subsequent poetry, much of it long-form, continued to expand his fame in later years, to the point that a Browning Society was formed and he became a celebrity known for dining out in fashionable spots. At the time Browning died in 1889, he was perhaps the most famous poet in England next to William Wordsworth, and his legacy has only improved since that time.

The Emperor's New Clothes by Hans Christian Andersen.

Many years ago, there was an Emperor, who was so excessively fond of new clothes, that he spent all his money in dress. He did not trouble himself in the least about his soldiers; nor did he care to go either to the theatre or the chase, except for the opportunities then afforded him for displaying his new clothes. He had a different suit for each hour of the day; and as of any other king or emperor, one is accustomed to say, "he is sitting in council," it was always said of him, "The Emperor is sitting in his wardrobe."Time passed merrily in the large town which was his capital; strangers arrived every day at the court. One day, two rogues, calling themselves weavers, made their appearance. They gave out that they knew how to weave stuffs of the most beautiful colors and elaborate patterns, the clothes manufactured from which should have the wonderful property of remaining invisible to everyone who was unfit for the office he held, or who was extraordinarily simple in character."These must, indeed, be splendid clothes!" thought the Emperor. "Had I such a suit, I might at once find out what men in my realms are unfit for their office, and also be able to distinguish the wise from the foolish! This stuff must be woven for me immediately." And he caused large sums of money to be given to both the weavers in order that they might begin their work directly.So the two pretended weavers set up two looms, and affected to work very busily, though in reality they did nothing at all. They asked for the most delicate silk and the purest gold thread; put both into their own knapsacks; and then continued their pretended work at the empty looms until late at night."I should like to know how the weavers are getting on with my cloth," said the Emperor to himself, after some little time had elapsed; he was, however, rather embarrassed, when he remembered that a simpleton, or one unfit for his office, would be unable to see the manufacture.

 To be sure, he thought he had nothing to risk in his own person; but yet, he would prefer sending somebody else, to bring him intelligence about the weavers, and their work, before he troubled himself in the affair. All the people throughout the city had heard of the wonderful property the cloth was to possess; and all were anxious to learn how wise, or how ignorant, their neighbors might prove to be."I will send my faithful old minister to the weavers," said the Emperor at last, after some deliberation, "he will be best able to see how the cloth looks; for he is a man of sense, and no one can be more suitable for his office than be is."So the faithful old minister went into the hall, where the knaves were working with all their might, at their empty looms.

Paolo and Francesca - the love story that inspired the statue of The Kiss by Rodin. By Angie Jardine.

Who were Paolo and Francesca?

Paolo and Francesca were illicit lovers in 13th century Italy and they have left us a love story that, like all good love stories, ends in tragedy.Paolo Malatestawas the third son of the lord of Rimini, Malatesta da Verrucchio and accounts of his personality vary. He was deemed by some to be a romantic sort, a man not really interested in the world around him but there is evidence that he was indeed involved enough with the politics of the day to lend his sword arm in support of his father and his allies when needed. What is beyond dispute is that he was a handsome man with a winning nature. He was also married with children.Francesca da Polenta (later Francesca da Rimini) was the beautiful young daughter of Guido I, lord of Ravenna and as such she was a valuable diplomatic pawn in the power games of Italian noblemen of the 13th century.

Marriage by trickery ...

When Guido I eventually found it expedient to make peace with his enemy, Malatesta da Verucchio, Paolo's father, he decided to seal the deal by marrying his daughter, Francesca, off to one of Malatesta's sons as a cunning political tie.
Unfortunately his choice of husband had to be Malatesta's eldest son, Giovanni (aka Gianciotto), who has been variously described as uncouth and deformed or crippled. This has come down to us via his nickname, lo Sciancato, which can mean crippled or lame. It may simply be that he had a slight limp as his condition did not seem to impair his ability to be a fearless soldier on behalf of his father.Whichever was the case Guido was perceptive enough to realise that his romantic young daughter would not welcome such a man as her husband so the handsome Paolo was invited to stand proxy for his brother at the wedding. Unfortunately it would appear that no-one told Francesca that Paolo was only the proxy ...

Waking up to the ugly truth.

Francesca had fallen instantly in love with the dashing Paolo and must have thought herself the luckiest girl in the world so we can only imagine her feelings of horror when she awoke on the morning after her wedding night to find herself lying beside the 'deformed' Giovanni instead. Presumably it had been possible for the brothers to switch places in the darkened bedroom and the innocent Francesca had been cruelly duped.But surely there are other emotional casualties here? How must Giovanni have felt when he saw his new wife's repulsion at the sight of him? How hurtful her rejection of him must have been as it is thought that he did, in fact, love Francesca very much. And what about Paolo? Even though he knew he was only the proxy for Giovanni, how did he actually feel at having to collude in this trickery and hand the beautiful Francesca over to his older brother? He may have already been a married man but when has that ever stopped men wanting women who should have been unattainable?

Paolo makes his move.

Conversely, we can never know if Paolo really loved Francesca. In the time-honoured way of the typical Italian male it could be that his brother's wife represented a challenge he simply could not resist. But history tells us that they did indeed become lovers and that Francesca's husband, Giovanni, almost caught them in the act.
The lovers discovered ...

Whatever the truth of this love affair Giovanni did not stop to ask questions. It is recorded that he found his wife's bedroom door locked and demanded to be admitted. He had been told of the affair by his servant and was determined to catch the lovers in flagrante. Paolo leapt towards a trapdoor in the floor as Francesca went to open the door and make her excuses for locking it.
However as she went to unlock the bedroom door she omitted to check that Paolo had actually got clean away and closed the trapdoor behind him. Unfortunately his jacket had caught on the catch and he had been unable to free himself.

As soon as Giovanni came through the door he saw Paolo and ran at him with his rapier, despite the fact that it was his brother he was about to kill. Francesca in a frenzy to save her lover threw herself in front of Giovanni's sword and was fatally stabbed. Giovanni in his despair at inadvertently killing the woman he loved, withdrew his sword from her chest and then ran Paolo through with it, killing him instantly. It is said that the lovers were buried together.Giovanni was never held accountable. Presumably such a crime of passion was thought excusable at that time. He had been cuckolded and had endured intolerable dishonour and his reaction was perhaps deemed acceptable; either that or he was too powerful to be prosecuted.He went on to capture Pesaro and lived there as its highest official until he died in 1304 ... 19 years after he had murdered his wife and his brother.

A love immortalised in word and stone.

But the love story of Paolo and Francesca was far from forgotten.The poet, Dante Alighieri, a contemporary of Paolo and Francesca, took their story and wove it into his famous poem, Divine Comedy. Although it is not know whether or not Dante actually knew them personally their tragedy had certainly caught his imagination.In Canto V of the Inferno (Hell) section, Dante, accompanied by the Roman poet, Virgil, meets the spirits of Paolo and Francesca as they are swept about by eternal winds, punished forever for their sin of uncontrollable lust.Dante seemed to want to mitigate the blame for their crime somewhat so he originates the story that the couple were influenced by the reading of the adulterous romance of Lancelot and Guinevere. A compassionate thought but it is unlikely that they needed any such encouragement. Love, infatuation, lust is universal and usually just too overwhelming for most humans.

The Bremen Town Musicians by the Brothers Grim.

There once was a man who had a donkey which had carried his sacks to the mill
unflaggingly for many long years but was now getting old and weak so that he was
becoming more and more unfit for work.
The donkey's master was considering whether to
stop feeding him but the donkey noticed that
there was an ill wind blowing and ran away, setting off for Bremen where he thought he
could become a town musician.
When he had covered a short distance he came across a hunting dog lying on the road,
yapping like someone who has run himself into the ground. "Well, why are you yapping so, old snarler?" asked the donkey. "Ah", said
the dog, "because I am so old and getting weaker every day and can't go hunting any
more, my master wanted to kill me but then I took to my heels. But how shall I now earn my living?" "You know what", said the donkey, "I am going to Bremen to become a
town musician. Go with me and take up music too. I shall play the lute and you can
beat the drums." The dog was happy with this and they went on together.
Before long they came across a cat sitting at the roadside with a face as long as a fiddle.
"Well now, what has crossed you, old whisker-face?" said the donkey. "How can I
be happy when I am in for it", replied the cat, "just because I am getting on in years, my
teeth are getting blunt and I prefer to sit and muse in front of the fire than to chase around after mice, my mistress wanted to drown me;
I managed to get away but now I am really in a fix. Where shall I go?" "Go with us to
Bremen. You are good at making music at night; you can become a town musican." The cat thought this was a good idea and went
with the others. The three fugitives went past a farmyard
where a farm cock was sitting on the gateband crowing with all its might. "Your crowing
goes right through us", said the donkey, "what's up?" "I prophesied good weather"
said the cock, "because it's the day of our Blessed Lady, on which she washed the littlebshirt of Baby Jesus and puts it out to dry; but because it is Sunday tomorrow and
guests are coming, the housewife has no pity
and has told the cook to put me in the soup tomorrow; and she's coming to cut off my
head tonight. So now I'm crowing as hard
and as long as I can." "Come on, old redhead", said the donkey, "come along with
us instead, we are going to Bremen. Anything is better than waiting here to die; you have a good voice and when we play music together
there will surely be a place for you." The cock was pleased by this suggestion and all four of them went on together.
But they couldn't reach the city of Bremen in one day and they came to a wood where theybdecided to spend the night.

The donkey and the dog lay down under a large tree; the cat and the cock went up into the branches but the cock flew up to the top of the tree where he felt the safest. Before he fell asleep he
looked around in the direction of all four winds and thought he saw a little light
shining in the distance; so he called to his friends that there must be a house not so far
away since he could see a light shining. Then the donkey said, "We had better go over there for the accommodation here is pretty bad."
The dog said he could also do with a fewnbones with a little meat on them. So they set
off in the direction of the light and soon it got brighter and larger until they came to a
brightly lit robbers' house. Being the largest of the four, the donkey approached the
window and looked inside. "What can you see, old grey nag?" asked the cock. "What
can I see?" answered the donkey. "A tablelaid with lovely things to eat and drink, with a band of robbers sitting around and having a good time." "Why can't we do the same", said the cock. "Ooh yes, if only we could be
there!" said the donkey. The animals conferred amongst themselvers about how
they could chase away the robbers and finally they hit on an idea. The donkey would
put his front hooves on the window ledge, the dog would jump on the donkey's back, the cat would climb on the dog and the cock would fly up and sit on the cat's head. So
they all did this and, at a signal, they began to play their music: the donkey brayed, the
dog barked, the cat miaowed and the cock crew.
Then fell through the window into the room, shattering the window-pane as they went. The robbers jumped out of their skins