So, I've battled it through on my own, Jack, I have done with all dreaming and doubt. Though 'stoney' to-night and alone, Jack, I am watching the Old Year out. I have finished with brooding and fears,...
This life, dear Corry, who can doubt?-- Resembles much friend Ewart's[1] wine, When first the rosy drops come out, How beautiful, how clear they shine!...
This is your month, the month of "perfect days," Birds in full song and blossoms all ablaze. Nature herself your earliest welcome breathes, Spreads every leaflet, every bower inwreathes;...
Our dearest joys forever flow From fountains of the Long Ago, That from the heights of pleasures past Flood all the present valleys vast, And with eternal glees provide The future's endless ocean tide....
O lyrist of the lowly and the true, The song I sought for you Hides yet unsung. What hope for me to find, Lost in the d'dal mind, The living utterance with lovely tongue! To say, as erst was sung...
The lark's in the sky, love, The flowers on the lea, The whitethorn's in bloom, love, To please thee and me; 'Neath its shade we can rest, love, And sit on the hill, And as last we met, love,...
Best and brightest, come away! Fairer far than this fair Day, Which, like thee to those in sorrow, Comes to bid a sweet good-morrow To the rough Year just awake In its cradle on the brake....
1. The keen stars were twinkling, And the fair moon was rising among them, Dear Jane! The guitar was tinkling, But the notes were not sweet till you sung them Again.
1. Now the last day of many days, All beautiful and bright as thou, The loveliest and the last, is dead, Rise, Memory, and write its praise! Up, - to thy wonted work! come, trace...
Two-faced Janus,[1] god of Time! Be my Phoebus while I rhyme; To oblige your crony Swift, Bring our dame a new year's gift; She has got but half a face; Janus, since thou hast a brace,...
Simple you were, and good. No kindlier heart Beat than the heart within your gentle breast. Labour you had, and happiness, and rest, And were the maid of nations. Now you start...
When youth was high, and life was new And days sped musical and fleet, She stood amid the morning dew, And sang her earliest measures sweet, - Sang as the lark sings, speeding fair...
I cannot touch the harp again, And sing another idle lay, To cool a maddening, burning brain, And drive the midnight fiend away. Music, own sister to the soul. Bids roses bloom on cheeks all pale;...