Baby lies so fast asleep That we cannot wake her: Will the angels clad in white Fly from heaven to take her? Baby lies so fast asleep
DOES the road wind uphill all th… Yes, to the very end. Will the day’s journey take the wh… From morn to night, my friend. But is there for the night a resti…
January cold desolate; February all dripping wet; March wind ranges; April changes; Birds sing in tune
I love and love not: Lord, it bre… To love and not to love. Thou veiled within Thy glory, gon… Into Thy shrine, which is above, Dost Thou not love me, Lord, or c…
In my Autumn garden I was fain To mourn among my scattered roses; Alas for that last rosebud which u… To Autumn’s languid sun and rain When all the world is on the wane!
I sigh at day-dawn, and I sigh When the dull day is passing by. I sigh at evening, and again I sigh when night brings sleep to… Oh! it were far better to die
The rose with such a bonny blush, What has the rose to blush about? If it’s the sun that makes her flu… What’s in the sun to flush about?
A fool I was to sleep at noon, And wake when night is chilly Beneath the comfortless cold moon; A fool to pluck my rose too soon, A fool to snap my lily.
The earth was green, the sky was b… I saw and heard one sunny morn A skylark hang betweent he two, A singing speck above the corn; A stage below, in gay accord,
It’s a weary life, it is, she said… Doubly blank in a woman’s lot: I wish and I wish I were a man: Or, better then any being, were no… Were nothing at all in all the wor…
Every valley drinks, Every dell and hollow; Where the kind rain sinks and sink… Green of Spring will follow. Yet a lapse of weeks
If the moon came from heaven, Talking all the way, What could she have to tell us, And what could she say? ‘I’ve seen a hundred pretty things…
Is the moon tired? she looks so pa… Within her misty veil: She scales the sky from east to we… And takes no rest. Before the coming of the night
1 and 1 are 2 — That’s for me and you. 2 and 2 are 4 — That’s a couple more. 3 and 3 are 6
The door was shut. I looked betwe… Its iron bars; and saw it lie, My garden, mine, beneath the sky, Pied with all flowers bedewed and… From bough to bough the song—birds…