A certain fox had a Grecian nose And a beautiful tail. His friends Were wont to say in a jesting way A divinity shaped his ends. The fact is sad, but his foxship had A fault we should all eschew:...
When the walls were red That now are seen To be overspread With a mouldy green, A fresh fair head Would often lean From the sunny casement And scan the scene,...
Wilt thou not the lambkins guard? Oh, how soft and meek they look, Feeding on the grassy sward, Sporting round the silvery brook! "Mother, mother, let me go On yon heights to chase the roe!" ...
The wise pretend to make it clear, 'Tis no great loss to lose an ear. Why are we then so fond of two, When by experience one would do? 'Tis true, say they, cut off the head,...
Severe against the pleasant arc of sky The great stone box is cruelly displayed. The street becomes more dreary from its shade, And vagrant breezes touch its walls and die....
Three saints, for their salvation jealous, Pursued, with hearts alike most zealous, By routes diverse, their common aim. All highways lead to Rome: the same Of heaven our rivals deeming true,...
Three saints, all equally zealous and anxious for their salvation, had the same ideal, although the means by which they strove towards it were different. But as all roads lead to Rome, these three were each content to choose th...
I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers, Of April, May, of June, and July flowers. I sing of May-poles, hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal-cakes....
I love the lyric muse! For when mankind ran wild in groves, Came holy Orpheus with his songs And turned men's hearts from bestial loves, From brutal force and savage wrongs;...
A gardener's ass complain'd to Destiny Of being made to rise before the dawn. 'The cocks their matins have not sung,' said he, 'Ere I am up and gone....
Down in the mud I lay, Tired out by my long day Of five damned days and nights, Five sleepless days and nights, ... Dream-snatched, and set me where The dungeon of Despair Looms over Desolate Sea,...
A guid New-year I wish thee, Maggie! Hae, there's a rip to thy auld baggie: Tho' thou's howe-backit, now, an' knaggie, I've seen the day Thou could hae gaen like onie staggie Out-owre the lay. ...
Thou ill-form'd offspring of my feeble brain, Who after birth did'st by my side remain, Till snatcht from thence by friends, less wise than true, Who thee abroad expos'd to public view,...