If thou hast found an honeycomb, Eat thou not all, but taste on some: For if thou eat'st it to excess, That sweetness turns to loathsomeness. Taste it to temper, then 'twill be Marrow and manna unto thee.
There were two Fairies, Gimmul and Mel, Loved Earth Man's honey passing well; Oft at the hives of his tame bees They would their sugary thirst appease. When even began to darken to night,...
'Twas a tender little honeysuckle vine That smiled and danced in the warm sunshine, And spied a maid as fair as all maids be, Who said, "Little honeysuckle, come up to me."...
Owned a pair o' skates onc't. - Traded Fer 'em, - stropped 'em on and waded Up and down the crick, a-waitin' Tel she'd freeze up fit fer skatin'. Mildest winter I remember -...
The Hoosier Folk-Child - all unsung - Unlettered all of mind and tongue; Unmastered, unmolested - made Most wholly frank and unafraid: Untaught of any school - unvexed...
Though I have watched so many mourners weep O'er the real dead, in dull earth laid asleep - Those dead seemed but the shadows of my days That passed and left me in the sun's bright rays....
The still sweet meadows shimmered: and I stood And cursed them, bloom of hedge and bird of tree, And bright and high beyond the hunch-backed wood The thunder and the splendour of the sea. ...
In the descriptive ballad which follows, it will be evident that I have endeavoured to preserve the style of a gossip, and to transmit the memorial of a custom, the extent or antiquity of which I am not acquainted with, and pre...
"The artist by his work is known." - A piece of honey-comb, one day, Discover'd as a waif and stray, The hornets treated as their own. Their title did the bees dispute,...
Ere the Brothers through the gateway Issued forth with old and young, To the Horn Sir Eustace pointed Which for ages there had hung. Horn it was which none could sound, No one upon living ground,...
The day is cold; the wind is strong; And through the sky great cloud-banks throng, While swathes of snow lie on the ground O'er which I walk without a sound, But I have vowed to fly to-day...
It was old Jerry Brown, Who'd an office in town, And he used to get jocular, very; And he'd go to the Shore When they'd serve him no more, And, of course, by the passenger ferry,...
Overladen the Ass was. The Horse Wouldn't help; but had time for remorse When the Ass lay dead there; For he then had to bear Both the load of the Ass & his corse.