Hapless, hapless, I must be All the hours of life I see, Since my foolish nurse did once Bed me on her leggen bones; Since my mother did not weel To snip my nails with blades of steel....
Then its O! for a wife, sich a wife as aw know! Who's thowts an desires are pure as the snow, Who nivver thinks virtue a reason for praise, An who shudders when tell'd ov this world's wicked ways. ...
There are so many little things that make life beautiful. I can recall a day in early youth when I was longing for happiness. Toward the western hills I gazed, watching for its approach....
There is a voice that calls to me; a voice that cries deep down; That calls within my heart of hearts when Summer doffs her crown: When Summer doffs her crown, my dear, and by the hills and streams...
Fair Happiness, I've courted thee, And used each cunning art and wile, Which lovers use with maidens coy, To win one tender glance or smile. Thou hast been coy as any maid,...
First, may the hand of bounty bring Into the daily offering Of full provision such a store, Till that the cook cries: Bring no more. Upon your hogsheads never fall A drought of wine, ale, beer, at all;...
I. Why wail you, pretty plover? and what is it that you fear? Is he sick your mate like mine? have you lost him, is he fled? And there'the heron rises from his watch beside the mere,...
A fringe of rushes, one green line Upon a faded plain; A silver streak of water-shine, Above, tree-watchers twain. It was our resting-place awhile, And still, with backward gaze,...
"Are you going next week to see Phillis and Phoebe? Phillis on Monday will be just fourteen. She says we shall all have our tea in the garden, And afterwards have some nice games on the green. ...
"Happy, happy it is to be Where the greenwood hangs o'er the dark blue sea; To roam in the moonbeams clear and still And dance with the elves Over dale and hill; To taste their cups, and with them roam...
There is not anything more wonderful Than a great people moving towards the deep Of an unguessed and unfeared future; nor Is aught so dear of all held dear before As the new passion stirring in their veins...
Fly, little note, And know no rest Till warm you lie Within that nest Which is her breast; Though why to thee Such joy should be Who carest not, While I must wait Here desolate,...
Varry monny years ago, when this world wor rather young, A varry wicked sarpent, wi' a varry oily tongue, Whispered summat varry nowty into Mistress Adam's ear;...