Sweet Chance, that led my steps abroad, Beyond the town, where wild flowers grow - A rainbow and a cuckoo, Lord, How rich and great the times are now! Know, all ye sheep And cows, that keep...
Neobule, yesternight Saw I thee in beauty dight, On thy head a myrtle spray Cast its shadow as the day By the stars was put to flight. Twining on thy temples white...
Thrice welcome from the Land of Flowers And golden-fruited orange bowers To this sweet, green-turfed June of ours! To her who, in our evil time, Dragged into light the nation's crime...
Good morning, Life, and all Things glad and beautiful. My pockets nothing hold, But he that owns the gold, The Sun, is my great friend, His spending has no end.
Grey drizzling mists the moorlands drape, Rain whitens the dead sea, From headland dim to sullen cape Grey sails creep wearily. I know not how that merchantman Has found the heart; but 't is her plan...
They ran through the streets of the seaport town, They peered from the decks of the ships that lay; The cold sea-fog that came whitening down Was never as cold or white as they....
One Sunday morning - service done - 'Mongst tombstones shining in the sun, A knot of bumpkins stood to chat Of that and this, and this and that; What people said of Polly Hatch -...
Wen de snow 's a-fallin' An' de win' is col'. Mammy 'mence a-callin', Den she 'mence to scol', "Lucius Lishy Brackett, Don't you go out do's, Button up yo' jacket, Les'n you 'll git froze."...
High was her heart, and yet was well inclined, Her manners made of bounty well refined; Far capitals and marble courts, her eye still seemed to see, Minstrels and kings and high-born dames, and of the best that be.
Low mourned the Oread round the Arcadian hills; The Naiad murmured and the Dryad moaned; The meadow-maiden left her daffodils To join the Hamadryades who groaned Over a sister newly fallen dead....
Said Sue to her suitor: "You'll get a new suit, or I'll sue for a suitor to suit." "Why Sue," said her suitor Who tried hard to suit her, "Your suitor is suited to suit."
Hold it up sternly! See this it sends back! (Who is it? Is it you?) Outside fair costume--within ashes and filth, No more a flashing eye--no more a sonorous voice or springy step;...
Friend, when the year is on the wing, 'Tis held a fair and comely thing To turn reflective glances Over the days' forbidden Scroll, See if we're better on the whole,...