There's some is born with their straight legs by natur - And some is born with bow-legs from the first - And some that should have grow'd a good deal straighter, But they were badly nurs'd,...
'Twas August - Hastings every day was filling - Hastings, that "greenest spot on memory's waste"! With crowds of idlers willing and unwilling To be bedipped - be noticed - or be braced,...
It is not with a hope my feeble praise Can add one moment's honor to thy own, That with thy mighty name I grace these lays; I seek to glorify myself alone: For that some precious favor thou hast shown...
I love thee - I love thee! 'Tis all that I can say; - It is my vision in the night, My dreaming in the day; The very echo of my heart, The blessing when I pray: I love thee - I love thee!...
Well hast thou cried, departed Burke, All chivalrous romantic work Is ended now and past! - That iron age - which some have thought Of metal rather overwrought - Is now all overcast! ...
A poor old king, with sorrow for my crown, Throned upon straw, and mantled with the wind - For pity, my own tears have made me blind That I might never see my children's frown;...
It's a shame, so it is, - men can't Let alone Jobs as is Woman's right to do - and go about there Own - Theirs Reforms enuff Alreddy without your new schools...
All you that are too fond of wine, Or any other stuff, Take warning by the dismal fate Of one Lieutenant Luff. A sober man he might have been, Except in one regard, He did not like soft water,...
Let us make a leap, my dear, In our love, of many a year, And date it very far away, On a bright clear summer day, When the heart was like a sun To itself, and falsehood none;...
And has the earth lost its so spacious round, The sky its blue circumference above, That in this little chamber there is found Both earth and heaven - my universe of love!...
The lady lay in her bed, Her couch so warm and soft, But her sleep was restless and broken still; For turning often and oft From side to side, she mutter'd and moan'd, And toss'd her arms aloft. ...
'Twas in the year two thousand and one, A pleasant morning of May, I sat on the gallows-tree, all alone, A channting a merry lay, - To think how the pest had spared my life,...