Already fallen plum-bloom stars the green And apple-boughs as knarred as old toads' backs Wear their small roses ere a rose is seen; The building thrush watches old Job who stacks...
The sup'rabundance of my store, That is the portion of the poor: Wheat, barley, rye, or oats; what is't But He takes toll of? all the grist. Two raiments have I: Christ then makes...
The proudest now is but my peer, The highest not more high; To-day, of all the weary year, A king of men am I. To-day, alike are great and small, The nameless and the known;...
Like to Ahasuerus, that shrewd prince, I will begin, as is, these seven years now, My daily wont, and read a History (Written by one whose deft right hand was dust To the last digit, ages ere my birth)...
What, he on whom our voices unanimously ran, Made Pope at our last Conclave? Full low his life began: His father earned the daily bread as just a fisherman. ...
The poplars are fell'd, farewell to the shade, And the whispering sound of the cool colonnade; The winds play no longer and sing in the leaves, Nor Ouse on his bosom their image receives.
My poplars are like ladies trim, Each conscious of her own estate; In costume somewhat over prim, In manner cordially sedate, Like two old neighbours met to chat Beside my garden gate. ...
Once I gave a "poppa-show": And I had the greatest fun! Every boy and girl I know That is, nearly every one, Came to see it: I just put Some old toys into a box; Paper things that I had cut,...
Hanging from the beam, Slowly swaying (such the law), Gaunt the shadow on your green, Shenandoah! The cut is on the crown (Lo, John Brown), And the stabs shall heal no more. ...
Our hull is seldom painted, Our decks are seldom stoned; Our sails are patched and cobbled And chains by rust marooned. Our rigging is untidy, And all things in accord:, We always sail on Friday...
I watch you, gazing at me from the wall, And wonder how you'd match your dreams with mine, If, mastering time's illusion, I could call You back to share this quiet candle-shine. ...
In some quaint Nurnberg maler-atelier Uprummaged. When and where was never clear Nor yet how he obtained it. When, by whom 'Twas painted - who shall say? itself a gloom Resisting inquisition. I opine...
In some quaint N'rnberg maler-atelier Uprummaged. When and where was never clear, Nor yet how he obtained it. When, by whom 'T was painted, who shall say? itself a gloom Resisting inquisition. I opine...
Oh the women of Old Portsmouth in their patience were sublime, As in working and in praying they abided GOD's own time! Marble saints in a stately Minster, in some land across the sea,...
Down here where the ships loom large in The gloom when the sea-storms veer, Down here on the south-west margin Of the western hemisphere, Where the might of a world-wide ocean...