What is the gold of mortal-kind To that men find Deep in the poet's mind! That magic purse Of Dreams from which God builds His universe! That makes life rich With, many a vision;...
1. 'Sleep, sleep on! forget thy pain; My hand is on thy brow, My spirit on thy brain; My pity on thy heart, poor friend; And from my fingers flow The powers of life, and like a sign,...
The Text is from the Percy Folio MS. The only other known text is a fragment from Sir Walter Scott's recollection, printed in C. K. Sharpe's Ballad Book.
A certain damsel of considerable pride made up her mind to choose a husband who should be young, well-built, and handsome; of agreeable manners and - note these two points - neither cold nor jealous. Moreover, she held it neces...
Once there was a man who loved himself very much, and who permitted himself no rivals in that love. He thought his face and figure the handsomest in all the world. Anything in the shape of a mirror that could show him his own l...
Through the town this good Man & his Son Strove to ride as to please everyone: Self, Son, or both tried, Then the Ass had a ride; While the world, at their efforts, poked fun. ...
I would I were in some spot whence I could watch the eager crowds rushing from kingdom to kingdom in their vain chase after the daughter of Chance! ...
In distant New Zealand, whose tresses of gold The billows are ceaselessly combing, Away in a village all tranquil and old I came on a market where porkers were sold, A market for pigs in the gloaming. ...
My mind is like a clamorous market-place. All day in wind, rain, sun, its babel wells; Voice answering to voice in tumult swells. Chaffering and laughing, pushing for a place,...
Argument. The Indian Government being minded to discover the economic condition of their lands, sent a Committee to inquire into it; and saw that it was good.
KING DAVID. Knights mine, all that be in hall, I have a counsel to you all, Because of this thing God lets fall Among us for a sign. For some days hence as I did eat...
An old, worn harp that had been played Till all its strings were loose and frayed, Joy, Hate, and Fear, each one essayed, To play. But each in turn had found No sweet responsiveness of sound. ...
It led adown the sloping hill, and through the valley wound, And where the blooming clover shed its fragrance all around, And then between the maple trees, across the little brook,...
I saw my fellows In Poverty Street,-- Bitter and black with life's defeat, Ill-fed, ill-housed, of ills complete. And I said to myself,-- "Surely death were sweet...
It is not always wise to say to your company, "Just listen to this joke" or "What do you think of this for a marvel?" for one can never be sure that the listeners will regard the matter in the same way that the teller does. Yet...