"Won't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?" Quoth the Fairy, nidding, nodding in the garden; " Can't you look out of your window, Mrs. Gill?" Quoth the Fairy, laughing softly in the garden;...
Year after year, as Summer suns come round, Upon the Calais packet am I found: Thence to Geneva hurried by express, I halt for breakfast, bathe, and change my dress. My well-worn knapsack to my back I strap;...
I am the very pattern of a modern Major-Gineral. I've information vegetable, animal, and mineral; I know the kings of England, and I quote the fights historical, From Marathon to Waterloo, in order categorical;...
Oh what a kiss With filial passion overcharged is this! To this misgiving breast The child runs, as a child ne'er ran to rest Upon the light heart and the unoppressed.
I come from nothing; but from where Come the undying thoughts I bear? Down, through long links of death and birth, From the past poets of the earth. My immortality is there. ...
Her time with equal prudence Silvia shares, First writes her billet-doux, then says her prayers, Her mass and toilette, vespers, and the play; Thus God and Ashtaroth divide the day:...
When man and maiden meet, I like to see a drooping eye, I always droop my own I am the shyest of the shy. I'm also fond of bashfulness, and sitting down on thorns, For modesty's a quality that womankind adorns....
Long since, a Mogul saw, in dream, A vizier in Elysian bliss; No higher joy could be or seem, Or purer, than was ever his. Elsewhere was dream'd of by the same...
Beyond the wall the passion flower is blooming, Strange hints of life along the winds are blown; Within, the cowled and silent men are kneeling Before an image on a cross of stone,...
Big-stomached, like friars Who ogle a nun, Quaff deep to their bellies' desires From the old abbey's tun, Grapes fatten with fires Warm-filtered from moon and from sun.
THIS, Chil-dren, is the famed Mon-goos. He has an ap-pe-tite ab-struse; Strange to re-late, this crea-ture takes A cu-ri-ous joy in eat-ing snakes - All kinds, though, it must be con-fessed,...
There are who give themselves to work for men, - To raise the lost, to gather orphaned babes And teach them, pitying of their mean estate, To feel for misery, and to look on crime...
I used to know a monk, a hermit, a saint. He lived only for the sweetness of prayer; and steeping himself in it, he would stand so long on the cold floor of the church that his legs below the knees grew numb and senseless as bl...
In Nino's chamber not a sound intrudes Upon the midnight's tingling silentness, Where Nino sits before his book and broods, Thin and brow-burdened with some fine distress,...