The Danann children laugh, in cradles of wrought gold, And clap their hands together, and half close their eyes, For they will ride the North when the ger-eagle flies,...
I hold that when a person dies His soul returns again to earth; Arrayed in some new flesh-disguise Another mother gives him birth. With sturdier limbs and brighter brain...
That I should live and look with open eyes I count as half my claim to Paradise. I have not crept beneath cathedral arches, But bathed in streams beneath the silver larches; ...
We read of kings and gods that kindly took A pitcher fill'd with water from the brook ; But I have daily tender'd without thanks Rivers of tears that overflow their banks....
An hour ago when the wind blew high At my lady's window a red leaf beat. Then dropped at her door, where, passing by, She carelessly trod it under her feet.
Lord, hear my discontent: all blank I stand, A mirror polished by thy hand; Thy sun's beams flash and flame from me-- I cannot help it: here I stand, there he! To one of them I cannot say,...
My forest brave, my Red-skin love, farewell; We may not meet to-morrow; who can tell What mighty ills befall our little band, Or what you'll suffer from the white man's hand?...
In our dainty little kitchen, Where my aproned wife is queen Over all the tin-pan people, In a realm exceeding clean, Oft I like to loiter, watching While she mixes things for tea;...
I have sipped, with drooping lashes, Dreamy draughts of Verzenay; I have flourished brandy-smashes In the wildest sort of way; I have joked with "Tom and Jerry" Till wee hours ayont the twal' -...
Where are they all departed, The loved ones of my youth, Those emblems white of purity, Sweet innocence and truth? When day-light drives the darkness, When evening melts to night,...
I knew a little boy, not very long ago, Who was as bright and happy as any boy you know. He had an only fault, and you will all agree That from a fault like this a boy himself might free. ...
The present Lord Kenyon (the Peer who writes letters, For which the waste-paper folks much are his debtors) Hath one little oddity well worth reciting, Which puzzleth observers even more than his writing....
I heard such a curious story Of Santa Claus: once, so they say, He set out to see what people were kind, Before he took presents their way. 'This year I will give but to givers,...
A curse upon each king who leads his state, No matter what his plea, to this foul game, And may it end his wicked dynasty, And may he die in exile and black shame. ...
The Text.--The earliest complete text, here given, was printed by William Copland between 1548 and 1568: there are extant two printed fragments, one printed by John Byddell in 1536, and the other in a type older than Copland's....