Come hither, my dear one, my choice one, and rare one, And let us be walking the meadows so fair, Where on pilewort and daisies the eye fondly gazes, And the wind plays so sweet in thy bonny brown hair. ...
Timid and smiling, beautiful and shy, She drops her head at every passer bye. Afraid of praise she hurries down the streets And turns away from every smile she meets. The forward clown has many things to say...
Old April wanes, and her last dewy morn Her death-bed steeps in tears:--to hail the May New blooming blossoms 'neath the sun are born, And all poor April's charms are swept away....
Though o'er the darksome northern hill Old ambush'd winter frowning flies, And faintly drifts his threatenings still In snowy sweet and blackening skies; Yet here the willow leaning lies...
I seek her in the shady grove, And by the silent stream; I seek her where my fancies rove, In many a happy dream; I seek her where I find her not, In Spring and Summer weather:...
For Sunday's play he never makes excuse, But plays at taw, and buys his Spanish juice. Hard as his toil, and ever slow to speak, Yet he gives maidens many a burning cheek;...
Now the wheat is in the ear, and the rose is on the brere, And bluecaps so divinely blue, with poppies of bright scarlet hue, Maiden, at the close o' eve, wilt thou, dear, thy cottage leave,...
How sweet are Spring wild flowers! They grow past the counting. How sweet are the wood-paths that thread through the grove! But sweeter than all the wild flowers of the mountain...
Of all the swains that meet at eve Upon the green to play, The shepherd is the lad for me, And I'll ne'er say him nay. Though father glowers beneath his hat, And mother talks of bed,...
Maid of Jerusalem, by the Dead Sea, I wandered all sorrowing thinking of thee,-- Thy city in ruins, thy kindred deplored, All fallen and lost by the Ottoman's sword. ...
Gay was the Maid of Ocram As lady eer might be Ere she did venture past a maid To love Lord Gregory. Fair was the Maid of Ocram And shining like the sun Ere her bower key was turned on two...
The maple with its tassel flowers of green, That turns to red a staghorn-shaped seed, Just spreading out its scolloped leaves is seen, Of yellowish hue, yet beautifully green;...
The bonny March morning is beaming In mingled crimson and grey, White clouds are streaking and creaming The sky till the noon of the day; The fir deal looks darker and greener,...
The linnet sat upon its nest, By gales of morning softly prest, His green wing and his greener breast Were damp with dews of morning: The dog-rose near the oaktree grew,...
This is the month the nightingale, clod brown, Is heard among the woodland shady boughs: This is the time when in the vale, grass-grown, The maiden hears at eve her lover's vows,...
Up this green woodland-ride let's softly rove, And list the nightingale - she dwells just here. Hush ! let the wood-gate softly clap, for fear The noise might drive her from her home of love ;...
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...
Youth has no fear of ill, by no cloudy days annoyed, But the old man's all hath fled, and his hopes have met their doom: The bud hath burst to flower, and the flower been long destroyed,...
'T is pleasant to bear recollections in mind Of joys that time hurries away-- To look back on smiles that have passed like the wind, And compare them with frowns of to-day....
The Old Year's gone away To nothingness and night: We cannot find him all the day Nor hear him in the night: He left no footstep, mark or place In either shade or sun:...