This is good, old-fashioned poetry that rhymes and is about something other than the poet's impressions of a particular moment. It has gems like Barbara Frietchie, The Highwayman, and Casey at the Bat. My parents gave me this to read as a child one time when I was sick, thinking that poems would be easier to read than a novel. I fell in love with it, and some of the verse in here have been favorites all my life. I grew up to like the kind of poetry that doesn't rhyme and is mostly the author's impressions of a particular moment, but I think this was a much better way to get kids interested in poetry than having them trying to dissect the modernists. ( )