Returning Janus[2] now prepares, For Bec, a new supply of cares, Sent in a bag to Dr. Swift, Who thus displays the new-year's gift. First, this large parcel brings you tidings...
No news of navies burnt at seas; No noise of late spawn'd tittyries; No closet plot or open vent, That frights men with a Parliament: No new device or late-found trick,...
In words like weeds, I'll wrap me o'er, Like coarsest clothes against the cold; But that large grief which these enfold Is given in outline and no more. - TENNYSON. ...
There's old man Willards; an' his wife; An' Marg'et - S'repty's sister; an' There's me - an' I'm the hired man; An' Tomps McClure, you better yer life! ...
Our brethren of England, who love us so dear, And in all they do for us so kindly do mean, (A blessing upon them!) have sent us this year, For the good of our church, a true English dean....
Poor Monsieur his conscience preserved for a year, Yet in one hour he lost it, 'tis known far and near; To whom did he lose it? - A judge or a peer.[2] Which nobody can deny. ...
An orator dismal of Nottinghamshire, Who has forty years let out his conscience to hire, Out of zeal for his country, and want of a place, Is come up, vi et armis, to break the queen's peace....
Als du im Saal mit deiner himmlischen Kunst Beethoven zeigst, und seinem Willen nach Mit den zehn Fingern fuehrst der Leute Gunst, Zehn Zungen sagen was der Meister sprach....
It is not early spring and yet Of bloodroot blooms along the stream, And blotted banks of violet, My heart will dream. Is it because the windflower apes The beauty that was once her brow,...
Oh yesterday, I t'ink it was, while cruisin' down the street, I met with Bill. "Hullo," he says, "let's give the girls a treat." We'd red bandanas round our necks 'n' our shrouds new rattled down,...
White as a lily moulded of Earth's milk That eve the moon bloomed in a hyacinth sky; Soft in the gleaming glens the wind went by, Faint as a phantom clothed in unseen silk:...
When you're lying awake with a dismal headache, and repose is taboo'd by anxiety, I conceive you may use any language you choose to indulge in without impropriety;...
Oh city, whom grey stormy hands have sown With restless drift, scarce broken now of any, Out of the dark thy windows dim and many Gleam red across the storm. Sound is there none,...
Come out and walk. The last few drops of light Drain silently out of the cloudy blue; The trees are full of the dark-stooping night, The fields are wet with dew.
The sky is overcast With a continuous cloud of texture close, Heavy and wan, all whitened by the Moon, Which through that veil is indistinctly seen, A dull, contracted circle, yielding light...