Mossy gray stands the House, four-square to the wind, Embosomed in the hills. The garden old Of yew and box and fishpond speaks her mind, Sweet-ordered, quaint, recluse, fold within fold...
Quaint and forgotten, by an unused road, An old house stands: around its doors the dense Blue iron-weeds grow high; The chipmunks make a highway of its fence; And on its sunken flagstones slug and toad...
Is it only twelve mont' I play de fool, You're sure it 'scorrec' , ma dear? I 'm glad for hearin' you spik dat way For I t'ink it was twenty year, Since leffin' de leetle ole house below,...
Five rotten gables look upon Wan rotting roses and rank weeds, Old iron gates on posts of stone, Dim dingles where the vermin breeds. Five rotten gables black appear Above bleak yews and cedars sad,...
Weeds and dead leaves, and leaves the Autumn stains With hues of rust and rose whence moisture weeps; Gnarl'd thorns, from which the knotted haw-fruit rains On paths the gray moss heaps. ...
There's a keen and grim old huntsman On a horse as white as snow; Sometimes he is very swift And sometimes he is slow. But he never is at fault, For he always hunts at view...
Another prospect pleased the builder's eye, And Fashion tenanted (where Fashion wanes) Here in the sorrowful suburban lanes When first these gables rose against the sky. Relic of a romantic taste gone by,...
All power is feeble with dissension: For this I quote the Phrygian slave.[2] If aught I add to his invention, It is our manners to engrave, And not from any envious wishes; -...
With its rude walls of stone and its moss-covered roof-- ('Tis a picture inwoven with memory's woof)-- It stands there to-day, as it stood in the years When we knew naught of sorrow--nor anguish--nor tears;...
Nothing on the grey roof, nothing on the brown, Only a little greening where the rain drips down; Nobody at the window, nobody at the door, Only a little hollow which a foot once wore;...
"Oh! the old swimmin'-hole! whare the crick so still and deep Looked like a baby-river that was laying half asleep, And the gurgle of the worter round the drift jest below...
In the good old days when the Army's ways were simple and unrefined, With a stock to keep their chins in front, and a pigtail down behind, When the only light in the barracks at night was a candle of grease or fat,...
He's an old grey horse, with his head bowed sadly, And with dim old eyes and a queer roll aft, With the off-fore sprung and the hind screwed badly And he bears all over the brands of graft;...
An old woman was sweeping her house, and she found a little crooked sixpence. "What," said she, "shall I do with this little sixpence? I will go to market, and buy a little pig."
A beldam kept two spinning maids, Who plied so handily their trades, Those spinning sisters down below Were bunglers when compared with these. No care did this old woman know...
My pensive SARA! thy soft cheek reclined Thus on mine arm, most soothing sweet it is To sit beside our Cot, our Cot o'ergrown With white-flower'd Jasmin, and the broad-leav'd Myrtle,...
Don told me that he loved me dear Where down the range Whioola pours; And when I laughed and would not hear He flung away to fight the wars. He flung away, how should he know...
The wisest of the wise Listen to pretty lies And love to hear them told; Doubt not that Solomon Listen'd to many a one, Some in his youth, and more when he grew old.
Hear ye not the waters beating where the rapid rivers, meeting With the winds above them fleeting, hurry to the distant seas, And a smothered sound of singing from old Ocean upwards springing,...