In books I read, how men have lived and died, With hopeless love deep in their bosoms hidden. While she for whom they long in secret sighed, Went on her way, nor guessed this flame unbidden. ...
There once was a bird that lived up in a tree, And all he could whistle was "Fiddle-dee-dee" - A very provoking, unmusical song For one to be whistling the summer day long!...
'T was Fiddledeedee who put to sea With a rollicking buccaneer Bumblebee: An acorn-cup was their hollow boat A rakish craft was their acorn-boat And their sail a butterfly's wing;...
The earth keeps some vibration going There in your heart, and that is you. And if the people find you can fiddle, Why, fiddle you must, for all your life. What do you see, a harvest of clover?...
The Squire sat propped in a pillowed chair, His eyes were alive and clear of care, But well he knew that the hour was come To bid good-bye to his ancient home.
A barking sound the Shepherd hears, A cry as of a dog or fox; He halts and searches with his eyes Among the scattered rocks: And now at distance can discern A stirring in a brake of fern;...
There is a field, that leans upon two hills, Foamed o'er of flowers and twinkling with clear rills; That in its girdle of wild acres bears The anodyne of rest that cures all cares;...
Fieldfares, bonny fieldfares, feedin' 'mang the bent, Wheer the sun is shinin' through yon cloud's wide rent, Welcoom back to t' moorlands, Frae Norway's fells an' shorelands,...
The beams in blossom with their spots of jet Smelt sweet as gardens wheresoever met; The level meadow grass was in the swath; The hedge briar rose hung right across the path,...
Here, where precipitate Spring, with one light bound Into hot Summer's lusty arms, expires, And where go forth at morn, at eve, at night, Soft airs that want the lute to play with 'em,...
"To Rev. Father E. Sourin, S.J., from A. J. Ryan; first, in memory of some happy hours passed in his company at Loyola College, Baltimore; next, in appreciation of a character of strange beautifulness, known of God, but hidden ...
Rolling out to fight for England, singing songs across the sea; Rolling North to fight for England, and to fight for you and me. Fighting hard for France and England, where the storms of Death are hurled;...
A pistol-shot rings round and round the world: In pitiful defeat a warrior lies. A last defiance to dark Death is hurled, A last wild challenge shocks the sunlit skies....