Ah, hast thou gone from him whose breast Bleeds with the thought we are apart, Whose tears fall vainly and unblest, Whose all--a crushed--a broken heart!
Alone in my chamber, forsaken, unsought, My spirit's enveloped in shadows of night, Is there no one to give me a smile or a thought? Is there none to restore to me faded delight? ...
Bright scenes must all depart as they've departed, Unshadowed years will fly as they have flown, And fairer visions leave us silent-hearted, Keen, lashing blasts must blow as they have blown. ...
An English village, a summer scene, A homely cottage, a garden green, An opening vista, a cloudless sky, A bee that hums as it passes by; A babe that chuckles among the flowers,...
It was the time of year when cockneys fly From town to country, and from there to town. I am not sure, but think it was July; I would not swear it was, nor bet a crown,...
Good day, and how d'ye do my friends and neighbours? I must have dozed upon my easy chair; I feel refreshed and recommence my labours, And urge my soaring Pegasus through air,...
I take my goosequill for some recreation, I'll have a pleasurable time to-night, A little change without the perturbation Of nitro-glycerine and dynamite:...
My beauty lives in a cottage grey by a gentle river's mouth, A cottage grey by the lone sea-shore away in the sunny south, Her eye's as fair, oh fairer, than the moonlight o'er the sea,...
I saw on a hedge that was flourishing by A rose that was stirred by the breath of the morn, So smiling and fragrant it looked there, that I Was tempted to seize it, forgetting the thorn. ...
There are moments we can look to, we can cherish in the past, As the fleeting days that numbered them are dwindling to their last, Like the roses in the autumn that are severed from their stem,...
We were friends, and the warmest of friends, he and I, Each glance was a language that broke from the heart, No cloudlet swept over the realm of the sky, And beneath it we swore that we never would part. ...
Thou'rt gone like the meteor that blazed in the sky, And the spot thou hast smiled upon knows thee no more, Is there no one that heaves o'er thy ashes a sigh? Is there none to regret? Is there none to deplore?...
There's a face that beclouds like a shadow my pathway at morn and eve, There's a form that glides before me which my eyes can never leave, When I pore above the hearth and heavy thoughts my bosom fill,...
The eve is still and silent and above the tinted plain The passing clouds are driving gentle showers of summer rain, And the scent of hay-strewn meadows and the fresh-besprinkled ground...
When the twilight shadows deepen and the far-off lands are dim, And the vesper dirge is stealing like the chant of cherubim, There's a prayer within my bosom that's responsive to the sound,...