Let brutish hearts, as hard as stones, Mock The weak Muse's tender moans, As now she wails o'er Titty's bones With anguish deep; Doubtless o'er parent's dying groans They'd little weep. ...
By the old tavern door on the causey there lay A hogshead of stingo just rolled from a dray, And there stood the blacksmith awaiting a drop As dry as the cinders that lay in his shop;...
True as the church clock hand the hour pursues He plods about his toils and reads the news, And at the blacksmith's shop his hour will stand To talk of "Lunun" as a foreign land....
Soon as the spring its earliest visit pays, And buds with March and April's lengthen'd days Of mingled suns and shades, and snow, and rain, Forcing the crackling frost to melt again;...
Stopt by the storm, that long in sullen black From the south-west stained its encroaching track, Haymakers, hustling from the rain to hide, Sought the grey willows by the pasture-side;...
Stopt by the storm, that long in sullen black From the south-west stain'd its encroaching track, Haymakers, hustling from the rain to hide, Sought the grey willows by the pasture-side;...
The crow sat on the willow tree A-lifting up his wings, And glossy was his coat to see, And loud the ploughman sings, "I love my love because I know The milkmaid she loves me";...
He could not die when trees were green, For he loved the time too well. His little hands, when flowers were seen, Were held for the bluebell, As he was carried oer the green. ...
How oft on Sundays, when I'd time to tramp, My rambles led me to a gipsy's camp, Where the real effigy of midnight hags, With tawny smoked flesh and tattered rags,...
How oft on Sundays, when I'd time to tramp, My rambles led me to a gipsy's camp, Where the real effigy of midnight hags, With tawny smoked flesh and tatter'd rags,...
The little cottage stood alone, the pride Of solitude surrounded every side. Bean fields in blossom almost reached the wall; A garden with its hawthorn hedge was all The space between.--Green light did pass...
Young Chloe looks sweet as the rose, And her love might be reckoned no less, But her bosom so freely bestows That all may a portion possess. Her smiles would be cheering to see,...
Sweet chestnuts brown like soling leather turn; The larch trees, like the colour of the Sun; That paled sky in the Autumn seemed to burn, What a strange scene before us now does run--...
Sweet Mary, though nor sighs nor pains Impassion'd courtship prove, My simple song the truth ne'er feigns To win thee to my love: I ask thee from thy bustling life, Where nought can pleasing prove,...
Cowslip bud, so early peeping, Warm'd by April's hazard hours; O'er thy head though sunshine's creeping, Close the threatening tempest lowers: Trembling blossom, let me bear thee...
Sweet bottle-shaped flower of lushy red, Born when the summer wakes her warmest breeze, Among the meadow's waving grasses spread, Or 'neath the shade of hedge or clumping trees,...
Well, honest John, how fare you now at home? The spring is come, and birds are building nests; The old cock robin to the stye is come, With olive feathers and its ruddy breast;...
Thy glance is the brightest, Thy voice is the sweetest, Thy step is the lightest, Thy shape the completest: Thy waist I could span, dear, Thy neck's like a swan's, dear, And roses the sweetest...