Merrily rang out the midnight bells, Glad tidings of joy for all; As crouched a little shiv'ring child, Close by the churchyard wall. The snow and sleet were pitiless, The wind played with her rags,...
If souls could sing to heaven's high King As blackbirds pipe on earth, How those delicious courts would ring With gusts of lovely mirth! What white-robed throng could lift a song...
I wooed her with a steeplechase, I won her with a fall, I made her heartstrings quiver on the flat When the pony missed his take-off, and we crashed into the wall; Well, she simply had to have me after that!...
MUSE. Give me a kiss, my poet, take thy lyre; The buds are bursting on the wild sweet-briar. To-night the Spring is born - the breeze takes fire. Expectant of the dawn behold the thrush,...
The May-pole is up, Now give me the cup; I'll drink to the garlands around it; But first unto those Whose hands did compose The glory of flowers that crown'd it.
You must wake and call me early, call me early, mother dear; To-morrow 'ill be the happiest time of all the glad New-year; Of all the glad New-year, mother, the maddest merriest day,...
Like flights of singing-birds went by The cheerful hours of girlhood's day, When, in my native bowers, Of simple buds and flowers They wove a crown, and hailed me Queen of May! ...
Here when the cloudless April days begin, And the quaint crows flock thicker day by day, Filling the forests with a pleasant din, And the soiled snow creeps secretly away,...
Though the winds be dank, And the sky be sober, And the grieving Day In a mantle gray Hath let her waiting maiden robe her,-- All the fields along I can hear the song Of the meadow lark,...
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,...
Come with the spring-time forth, fair maid, and be This year again the meadow's deity. Yet ere ye enter give us leave to set Upon your head this flowery coronet; To make this neat distinction from the rest,...
I think that look of Christ might seem to say 'Thou Peter! art thou then a common stone Which I at last must break my heart upon For all God's charge to his high angels may...