Dawn-cool, dew-cool Gleams the surface of my pool Bird haunted, fern enchanted, Where but tempered spirits rule; Stars do not trace their mystic lines In my confines;...
Few and precious are the words which the lips of Wisdom utter: To what shall then' rarity be likened? What price shall count their worth? Perfect and much to be desired, and giving joy with riches....
On wan dark night on Lac St. Pierre, De win' she blow, blow, blow, An' de crew of de wood scow "Julie Plante" Got scar't an' run below For de win' she blow lak hurricane, Bimeby she blow some more,...
Who could describe you, child of mystery And silence, born among these solitudes? Within whose look there is a secrecy, Old as these wanderingwoods, And knowledge, cousin to the morning-star,...
This life is all checkered with pleasures and woes, That chase one another like waves of the deep,-- Each brightly or darkly, as onward it flows, Reflecting our eyes, as they sparkle or weep....
Well, they are gone, and here must I remain, This lime-tree bower my prison! I have lost Beauties and feelings, such as would have been Most sweet to my remembrance even when age...
Th' last month o' th' year; an' ther's summat rayther sorrowful abaat th' last o' owt, exceptin' trouble; an' still to me ther's allus summat varry interestin' abaat owt at's "th' last." Aw've watched men when they've been buil...
Yo've heeard tell abaat th new railrooad aw dar say? It's an age o' steeam is this! Smook nuisance and boilers brustin are ivery-day affairs, an' ivery thing an' ivery body seem to be on at full speed. Aw wonder 'at noabdy inve...
Tommy's alluz playin' jokes, An' actin' up, an' foolin' folks; An' wunst one time he creep In Pa's big chair, he did, one night, An' squint an' shut his eyes bofe tight, An' say, "Now I 'm asleep."...
Those evening bells! those evening bells! How many a tale their music tells, Of youth and home and that sweet time When last I heard their soothing chime.
Those words were uttered as in pensive mood We turned, departing from that solemn sight: A contrast and reproach to gross delight, And life's unspiritual pleasures daily wooed!...
Though the bold wings of Poesy affect The clouds, and wheel around the mountain tops Rejoicing, from her loftiest height she drops Well pleased to skim the plain with wild flowers deckt...
Not a line of her writing have I, Not a thread of her hair, No mark of her late time as dame in her dwelling, whereby I may picture her there; And in vain do I urge my unsight To conceive my lost prize...
What, thou, my friend! a man of rhymes, And, better still, a man of guineas, To talk of "patrons," in these times, When authors thrive like spinning-jennies, And Arkwright's twist and Bulwer's page...
Still e'er that shrine defiance rears its head, Which rolls in sullen murmurs o'er the dead, That shrine which conquest, as it stems the flood. Too often tinges deep with human blood;...
I sat me down in my easy chair, To read, as usual, the morning papers; But--who shall describe my look of despair, When I came to Lefroy's "destructive" capers! That he--that, of all live men, Lefroy...
Oft have I seen, in gay, equestrian pride, Some well-rouged youth round Astley's Circus ride Two stately steeds--standing, with graceful straddle, Like him of Rhodes, with foot on either saddle,...
What saw I yesterday walking apart In a leafy place where the cattle wait? Something to keep for a charm in my heart - A little sweet girl in a garden gate. Laughing she lay in the gold sun's might,...