Behold! the biased foes of Right Are conscious of their danger, They're startled by the dawning light, So very long a stranger. And fearing for their rotting laws, Whose reign is nearly ended,...
ONCE on a time, as hist'ry's page relates, A lord, possessed of many large estates, Was angry with a poor and humble clod, Who tilled his grounds and feared his very nod....
"To Panurge was assigned the Laird-ship of Salmagundi, which was yearly worth 6,789,106,789 ryals besides the revenue of the Locusts and Periwinkles, amounting one year with another to the value of 2,485,768," etc.--RABELAIS....
The dew was falling fast, the stars began to blink; I heard a voice; it said, "Drink, pretty creature, drink!" And, looking o'er the hedge, before me I espied A snow-white mountain-lamb with a Maiden at its side....
During the Revolutionary war, a young American lady was murdered, while dressed in her bridal robe, by a party of Indians, sent by her betrothed to conduct her to the village where he was encamped. After the deed was done, they...
She stood by my side with a queenly air, Her face it was young and proud and fair; She held my rose in her hands of snow; It crimsoned her face with a deeper glow; The sunlight drooped in her eyes of fire...
Dearest, a look is but a ray Reflected in a certain way; A word, whatever tone it wear, Is but a trembling wave of air; A touch, obedience to a clause In nature's pure material laws. ...
The shades of night were brooding O'er the sea, the earth, the sky; The passing winds were wailing In a low, unearthly sigh; The darkness gathered deeper, For no starry light was shed,...
Pipes of the misty moorlands, Voice of the glens and hills; The droning of the torrents, The treble of the rills! Not the braes of bloom and heather,...
Wintah time hit comin' Stealin' thoo de night; Wake up in the mo'nin' Evah t'ing is white; Cabin lookin' lonesome Stannin' in de snow, Meks you kin' o' nervous, Wen de win' hit blow. ...
I could love thee till I die, Would'st thou love me modestly, And ne'er press, whilst I live, For more than willingly I would give: Which should sufficient be to prove I'd understand the art of love....
If after rude and boisterous seas My wearied pinnace here finds ease; If so it be I've gain'd the shore, With safety of a faithful oar; If having run my barque on ground, Ye see the aged vessel crown'd;...
1. My daddy is dead, but I can't tell you how; He left me six horses to follow the plough; With my whim wham waddle ho! Strim stram straddle ho! Bubble ho! pretty boy, over the brow.
I cannot pipe as I was wont to do, Broke is my reed, hoarse is my singing, too; My wearied oat I'll hang upon the tree, And give it to the sylvan deity.
"Who would himself with shadows entertain, Or gild his life with lights that shine in vain, Or nurse false hopes that do but cheat the true? Though with my dream my heaven should be resigned...