A shepherd who was deeply in love with a shepherdess was sitting one day by her side trying to find words to express the emotions her charms created in his breast. ...
My meaning will be best unravell'd, When I premise that Tim has travell'd. In Lucas's by chance there lay The Fables writ by Mr. Gay. Tim set the volume on a table, Read over here and there a fable:...
"Is she still beautiful?" I asked of one Who of the unforgotten faces told That for long years I had not looked upon - "Beautiful still - but she is growing old"; And for a space I sorrowed, thinking on...
On drives the road - another mile! and still Time's horses gallop down the lessening hill O why such haste, with nothing at the end! Fain are we all, grim driver, to descend...
"Time for bed!" - the weary day With its toils has passed away Sol has wrapped his forehead bright In the curtains of the night, And his glorious lamp again Lowered behind the western main...
When the south-west wind came The air grew bright and sweet, as though a flame Had cleansed the world of winter. The low sky As the wind lifted it rose trembling vast and high, And white clouds sallied by...
Be aisy an' list to a chune That's sung of bowld Tim the Dragoon-- Sure, 'twas he'd niver miss To be stalin' a kiss, Or a brace, by the light of the moon-- Aroon--...
If life for me hath joy or light, 'Tis all from thee, My thoughts by day, my dreams by night, Are but of thee, of only thee. Whate'er of hope or peace I know, My zest in joy, my balm in woe,...
'Tis gone, and for ever, the light we saw breaking, Like Heaven's first dawn o'er the sleep of the dead-- When Man, from the slumber of ages awaking, Looked upward, and blest the pure ray, ere it fled....
'Tis said, that some have died for love: And here and there a churchyard grave is found In the cold north's unhallowed ground, Because the wretched man himself had slain, His love was such a grievous pain....
Have you been catching of fish, Tom Noddy? Have you snared a weeping hare? Have you whistled, 'No Nunny,'and gunned a poor bunny, Or a blinded bird of the air? ...
Lords, knights, and squires, the numerous band That wear the fair Miss Mary's fetters, Were summoned by her high command To show their passions by their letters.
A'a awm feeared tha's come too sooin, Little daisy! Pray, whativer wor ta doin? Are ta crazy? Winter winds are blowin' yet, - Tha'll be starved, mi little pet. ...
And is it true indeed, and must you go, Set out alone across that moorland track, No love avail, though we have loved you so, No voice have any power to call you back?...
The Autumn promised, and he keeps His word unto the meadow-rose. The pure, bright lightnings herald Spring, Serene and glad the fresh earth shows. The rain has quenched her children's thirst,...