My books are on their shelves again And clouds lie low with mist and rain. Afar the Arno murmurs low The tale of fields of melting snow. List to the bells of times agone...
Lyce, the gods have heard my prayers, as gods will hear the dutiful, And brought old age upon you, though you still affect the beautiful. You sport among the boys, and drink and chatter on quite aimlessly;...
'Tis the time of the year's sundown, and flame Hangs on the maple bough; And June is the faded flower of a name; The thin hedge hides not a singer now. Yet rich am I; for my treasures be...
Dear, noble friend! a virgin cask Of wine solicits your attention; And roses fair, to deck your hair, And things too numerous to mention. So tear yourself awhile away...
Little eyelids, cease your winking; Little orbs, forget to beam; Little soul, to slumber sinking, Let the fairies rule your dream. Breezes, through the lattice sweeping, Sing their lullabies the while--...
O Lady Fortune! 't is to thee I call, Dwelling at Antium, thou hast power to crown The veriest clod with riches and renown, And change a triumph to a funeral...
Whenas ye plaisaunt Aperille shoures have washed and purged awaye Ye poysons and ye rheums of earth to make a merrie May, Ye shraddy boscage of ye woods ben full of birds that syng...
As beats the sun from mountain crest, With "pretty, pretty", Cometh the partridge from her nest; The flowers threw kisses sweet to her (For all the flowers that bloomed knew her);...
M'cenas, you will be my death,--though friendly you profess yourself,-- If to me in a strain like this so often you address yourself: "Come, Holly, why this laziness? Why indolently shock you us?...
What gods or heroes, whose brave deeds none can dispute, Will you record, O Clio, on the harp and flute? What lofty names shall sportive Echo grant a place On Pindus' crown or Helicon's cool, shadowy space? ...
A little boy whose name was Tim Once ate some jelly-cake for tea-- Which cake did not agree with him, As by the sequel you shall see. "My darling child," his mother said,...
As I was going to Bethlehem-town, Upon the earth I cast me down All underneath a little tree That whispered in this wise to me: "Oh, I shall stand on Calvary And bear what burthen saveth thee!" ...
Still serve me in my age, I pray, As in my youth, O faithful one; For years I've brushed thee every day-- Could Socrates have better done? What though the fates would wreak on thee...
Carol of the Christmas morn-- Carol of the Christ-child born-- Carol to the list'ning sky Till it echoes back again "Glory be to God on high, Peace on earth, good will tow'rd men!"
Oh, them days on Red Hoss Mountain, when the skies wuz fair 'nd blue, When the money flowed like likker, 'nd the folks wuz brave 'nd true! When the nights wuz crisp 'nd balmy, 'nd the camp wuz all astir,...