My Lord, I know your noble ear Woe ne'er assails in vain; Embolden'd thus, I beg you'll hear Your humble slave complain, How saucy Phoebus' scorching beams In flaming summer-pride,...
Ay, this is freedom! these pure skies Were never stained with village smoke: The fragrant wind, that through them flies, Is breathed from wastes by plough unbroke. Here, with my rifle and my steed,...
It was back in Renfrew County, near the Opeongo line, Where the land's all hills and hollows and the hills are clothed with pine, And in the wooded valleys little lakes shine here and there...
He needs must leave the trapping and the chase, For mating game his arrows ne'er despoil, And from the hunter's heaven turn his face, To wring some promise from the dormant soil. ...
"It would be impossible for his Royal Highness to disengage his person from the accumulating pile of papers that encompassed it." --Lord CASTLEREAGH'S Speech upon Colonel M Mahon's Appointment, April 14, 1812. ...
Thro' grief and thro' danger thy smile hath cheered my way, Till hope seemed to bud from each thorn that round me lay; The darker our fortune, the brighter our pure love burned,...
Made from a fetter of Bonnivard, the Prisoner of Chillon; the handle of wood from the Frigate Constitution, and bound with a circlet of gold, inset with three precious stones from Siberia, Ceylon, and Maine. ...
O gentle sister spirit, when you smile My soul is like a lonely coral isle, An islet shadowed by a single palm, Ringed round with reef and foam, but inly calm.
A Jackal and a Partridge swore affiliated friendship; but the Jackal was complete crushing and jealous. "You don't do bisected as abounding for me as I do for you," he acclimated to say, "and yet you abode a abounding...
A peacock moulted: soon a jay was seen Bedeck'd with Argus tail of gold and green,[2] High strutting, with elated crest, As much a peacock as the rest. His trick was recognized and bruited,...
Let others sing of gold and gear, the joy of being rich; But oh, the days when I was poor, a vagrant in a ditch! When every dawn was like a gem, so radiant and rare,...
We let Ontario farmers sing About the joys the woods do bring, But we in regions of Northwest Do think prairie farms the best, For those poor men who swing the axe On their strength 'tis a heavy tax,...
What are the Kaiser's favorite poems? Well, now, you tax me hard: I know the Kaiser's favorite drink But do not know his bard; I'm sure it is not Schiller Who reigns in German homes....
The Kaiser is seeking "a place in the Sun" But I fear he'll have to wait, Till another eclipse has dulled its face And the Allies have woven his fate: For the "spots" on the Sun are all occupied...