I thought 'twas a toy of the fancy, a dream That leads with illusion the senses astray, And I sighed with delight as we stole down the stream, While the sun, as he smiled on our sail, seemed to say,...
We'll go no more a-roving by the light of the moon. November glooms are barren beside the dusk of June. The summer flowers are faded, the summer thoughts are sere....
Well I remember how you smiled To see me write your name upon The soft sea-sand--'_O! what a child!_ _You think you're writing upon stone!_' I have since written what no tide...
We may roam thro' this world, like a child at a feast, Who but sips of a sweet, and then flies to the rest; And, when pleasure begins to grow dull in the east, We may order our wings and be off to the west;...
Droop not, brothers! As we go, O'er the mountains, Under the boughs of mistletoe, Log huts we'll rear, While herds of deer and buffalo Furnish the cheer. File o'er the mountains--steady, boys...
Every Sunday there's a throng Of pretty girls, who trot along In a pious, breathless state (They are nearly always late) To the Chapel, where they pray For the sins of Saturday. ...
We were two green rushes by opposing banks, And the small stream ran between. Not till the water beat us down Could we be brought together, Not till the winter came...
What is right living? Just to do your best When worst seems easier. To bear the ills Of daily life with patient cheerfulness Nor waste dear time recounting them. To talk...
Winds of the summer time what are you saying, What are ye seeking, and what do you miss? Locks like the thistledown floating and straying, Cheeks like the budding rose, tinted to kiss. ...
O thou whose face hath felt the Winter's wind, Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist And the black elm tops 'mong the freezing stars, To thee the spring will be a harvest-time....
Wondering maiden, so puzzled and fair, Why dost thou murmur and ponder and stare? 'Why are my eyelids so open and wild?' Only the better to see with, my child! Only the better and clearer to view...
'Twas to a small, up-country town, When we were boys at school, There came a circus with a clown, Likewise a bucking mule. The clown announced a scheme they had Spectators for to bring,...
In sober mornings do thou not rehearse The holy incantation of a verse; But when that men have both well drunk, and fed, Let my enchantments then be sung, or read....
When hopes ran high the world was young, We thought that we would never die, And glorious were the songs we sung In those grand days when hopes ran high.