I thought it was the little bed I slept in long ago; A straight white curtain at the head, And two smooth knobs below. I thought I saw the nursery fire, And in a chair well-known...
A wild west Coast, a little Town, Where little Folk go up and down, Tides flow and winds blow: Night and Tempest and the Sea, Human Will and Human Fate: What is little, what is great?...
I once was a guest at a Nobleman's wedding; Fair was the Bride, but she scarce had been kind, And now in our mirth, she had tears nigh the shedding Her former true lover still runs in her mind. ...
Adieu to Belashanny! where I was bred and born; Go where I may, I'll think of you, as sure as night and morn. The kindly spot, the friendly town, where every one is known,...
Is always Age severe? Is never Youth austere? Spring-fruits are sour to eat; Autumn's the mellow time. Nay, very late in the year, Short day and frosty rime, Thought, like a winter pear,...
Pluck not the wayside flower, It is the traveller's dower; A thousand passers-by Its beauties may espy, May win a touch of blessing From Nature's mild caressing. The sad of heart perceives...
Ring-Ting! I wish I were a Primrose, A bright yellow Primrose, blowing in the spring! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The fern and moss to creep across,...
A man who keeps a diary, pays Due toll to many tedious days; But life becomes eventful then His busy hand forgets the pen. Most books, indeed, are records less Of fullness than of emptiness.