She loved him--but she heeded not-- Her heart had only room for pride: All other feelings were forgot, When she became another's bride. As from a dream she then awoke, To realize her lonely state,...
I have come to the church and chancel, Where all's the same! - Brighter and larger in my dreams Truly it shaped than now, meseems, Is its substantial frame. But, anyhow, I made my vow,...
Like the tribes of Israel, Fed on quails and manna, Sherman and his glorious band Journeyed through the rebel land, Fed from Heaven's all-bounteous hand, Marching on Savannah! ...
When you shall see me in the toils of Time, My lauded beauties carried off from me, My eyes no longer stars as in their prime, My name forgot of Maiden Fair and Free; ...
Perhaps, long hence, when I have passed away, Some other's feature, accent, thought like mine, Will carry you back to what I used to say, And bring some memory of your love's decline. ...
I will be faithful to thee; aye, I will! And Death shall choose me with a wondering eye That he did not discern and domicile One his by right ever since that last Good-bye! ...
This love puts all humanity from me; I can but maledict her, pray her dead, For giving love and getting love of thee - Feeding a heart that else mine own had fed! ...
She told her beads with down-cast eyes, Within the ancient chapel dim; And ever as her fingers slim Slipt o'er th' insensate ivories, My rapt soul followed, spaniel-wise....
Just look at him! there he stands, With his nasty hair and hands. See! his nails are never cut; They are grimed as black as soot; And the sloven, I declare, Never once has combed his hair;...
[Footnote: Sickness may be often an incentive to poetical composition; I found it so; and I esteem the following lines only because they remind me of past feelings which I would not willingly forget.]
Should those fond hopes e'er forsake thee, Which now so sweetly thy heart employ: Should the cold world come to wake thee From all thy visions of youth and joy;...
Poor Hall, renown'd for comely hair, Whose hands, perhaps, were not so fair, Yet had a Jezebel as near; Hall, of small scripture conversation, Yet, howe'er Hungerford's[1] quotation,...
Silence is in our festal halls,-- Sweet Son of Song! thy course is o'er; In vain on thee sad Erin calls, Her minstrel's voice responds no more;-- All silent as the Eolian shell...
With an incident in which he was concerned In the sweet shire of Cardigan, Not far from pleasant Ivor-hall, An old Man dwells, a little man, 'Tis said he once was tall....
There sits a bird on every tree; Sing heigh-ho! There sits a bird on every tree, And courts his love as I do thee; Sing heigh-ho, and heigh-ho! Young maids must marry. ...
Sing, sweet Harp, oh sing to me Some song of ancient days, Whose sounds, in this sad memory, Long buried dreams shall raise;-- Some lay that tells of vanished fame, Whose light once round us shone;...
The Text given here is comparatively a late one, from the Roxburghe collection (iii. 456). An earlier broadside, in the same and other collections, gives a longer but curiously corrupted version, exhibiting such perversions as ...