Henry Van Dyke

(10 November 1852 – 10 April 1933 / Germantown, Pennsylvania)

Henry Van Dyke Poems

81. Stand Fast! 1/3/2003
82. Stars And The Soul 1/3/2003
83. Storm-Music 1/3/2003
84. The Ancestral Dwelling 1/3/2003
85. The Bells Of Malines 1/3/2003
86. The Black Birds 1/3/2003
87. The Empty Quatrain 1/3/2003
88. The Foolish Fir-Tree 1/3/2003
89. The Gentle Traveller 1/3/2003
90. The Glory Of Ships 1/3/2003
91. The Heavenly Hills Of Holland 1/3/2003
92. The Hermit Thrush 1/3/2003
93. The Message 1/3/2003
94. The Mocking-Bird 1/3/2003
95. The Name Of France 1/3/2003
96. The Oxford Thrushes 1/3/2003
97. The Price Of Peace 1/3/2003
98. The Proud Lady 1/3/2003
99. The Red Flower 1/3/2003
100. The Ruby-Crowned Kinglet 2/23/2016
101. The Statue Of Sherman By St. Gaudens 1/3/2003
102. The Sun-Dial At Wells College 1/3/2003
103. The Vain King 1/3/2003
104. The Veery 3/31/2010
105. The White Bees 1/3/2003
106. The Wind Of Sorrow 1/3/2003
107. The Window 1/3/2003
108. They Who Tread The Path Of Labor 1/3/2003
109. Thomas Bailey Aldrich 1/3/2003
110. Time Is 1/3/2003
111. To James Whitcomb Riley 1/3/2003
112. To Julia Marlowe 1/3/2003
113. Twilight In The Alps 1/3/2003
114. Two Schools 1/3/2003
115. Undine 1/3/2003
116. Urbs Coronata 1/3/2003
117. Victor Hugo 1/3/2003
118. War-Music 1/3/2003
119. Without Disguise 1/3/2003
120. Wordsworth 1/3/2003
Best Poem of Henry Van Dyke

Two Schools

I put my heart to school
In the world, where men grow wise,
"Go out," I said, "and learn the rule;
Come back when you win a prize."

My heart came back again:
"Now where is the prize?" I cried. ----
"The rule was false, and the prize was pain,
And the teacher's name was Pride."

I put my heart to school
In the woods, where veeries sing,
And brooks run cool and clear;
In the fields, where wild flowers spring,
And the blue of heaven bends near.
"Go out," I said: "you are half a fool,
But perhaps they can teach you here."

"And why do you stay...

Read the full of Two Schools

Hide And Seek

All the trees are sleeping, all the winds are still,
All the flocks of fleecy clouds have wandered past the hill;
Through the noonday silence, down the woods of June,
Hark, a little hunter's voice comes running with a tune.
"Hide and seek!
"When I speak,
"You must answer me:
"Call again,
"Merry men,

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