The stars, a jolly company, I envied, straying late and lonely; And cried upon their revelry: "O white companionship! You only In love, in faith unbroken dwell, Friends radiant and inseparable!" ...
If I ever be worthy or famous, Which I'm sadly beginning to doubt, When the angel whose place 'tis to name us Shall say to my spirit, 'Pass out!' I wish for no sniv'lling about me...
The Text is from a manuscript at Balliol College, Oxford, No. 354, already referred to in the First Series (p. 80) as supplying a text of The Nut-brown Maid. The manuscript, which is of the early part of the sixteenth century, ...
It was a Jolly Miller lived on the River Dee; He looked upon his piller, and there he found a flea: "O Mr. Flea! you have bit' me, And you shall shorely die!"...
O dear Six-pence, I've got Six-pence, I love Six-pence as I love my life; I'll spend a penny on't, and I'll lend another on't, And I'll carry fourpence home to my wife.
Sun on the eiderdown breaks tiny corners off the bedspread, declares green plants its bidding before summoning Fragonard's maiden off her swing - so richly dressed in picture from the sunlit wall. ...
Last night I lay awake and heard the wind, That madman jongleur of the world of air, Making wild music: now he seemed to fare With harp and lute, so intimately twinned...
A little Maid sat in a Jonquil Tree, Singing alone, In a low love-tone, And the wind swept by with a wistful moan; For he longed to stay With the Maid all day; But he knew As he blew...
Hark, the rain is on my roof! Every murmur, through the dark, Stings me with a dull reproof Like a half-extinguished spark. Me! ah me! how came I here, Wide awake and wide alone!...
Some of my friends (for friends I must suppose All, who, not daring to appear my foes, Feign great good will, and, not more full of spite Than full of craft, under false colours fight),...
Beneath the waning moon I walk at night, And muse on human life, for all around Are dim uncertain shapes that cheat the sight, And pitfalls lurk in shade along the ground,...
A thousand times ten thousand times More swift than the sun's swift light Were the Morning Wings in their flight On - On - West of the Universe, Thro' the West To Chaos-night.
Let others sing of gold and gear, the joy of being rich; But oh, the days when I was poor, a vagrant in a ditch! When every dawn was like a gem, so radiant and rare,...
How must have thrilled the great Creator's mind With radiant, glad and satisfying joy, Ever new self-expressive forms to find In those six days of rapturous employ! How must He have delighted when He made...
When heavy on my tired mind The world, and worldly things, do weigh, And some sweet solace I would find, Into the sky I love to stray, And, all alone, to wander round In lone seclusion from the ground....