What is yonder white thing in the forest? Is it snow, or can it swans perchance be? Were it snow, ere this it had been melted, Were it swans, they all away had hastend....
Early within his workshop here, On Sundays stands our master dear; His dirty apron he puts away, And wears a cleanly doublet to-day; Lets wax'd thread, hammer, and pincers rest,...
Who trusts in God, Fears not His rod. - This truth may be by all believed: Whom God deceives, is well deceived. - How? when? and where? No answer comes from high;...
WHAT pleasure to me A bridegroom would be! When married we are, They call us mamma. No need then to sew, To school we ne'er go; Command uncontroll'd, Have maids, whom to scold;...
Young woman, may God bless thee, Thee, and the sucking infant Upon thy breast! Let me, 'gainst this rocky wall, Neath the elm-tree's shadow, Lay aside my burden,...