Playing at bob cherry Tom and Nell and Hugh: Cherry bob! cherry bob! There’s a bob for you. Tom bobs a cherry
In the bleak mid—winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
I plucked pink blossoms from mine… And wore them all that evening in… Then in due season when I went to… I found no apples there. With dangling basket all along the…
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
Ah! changed and cold, how changed… With stiffened smiling lips and co… Changed, yet the same; much knowin… This was the promise of the days o… Grown hard and stubborn in the anc…
Crimson curtains round my mother’s… Silken soft as may be; Cool white curtains round about my… For I am but a baby.
The wind has such a rainy sound Moaning through the town, The sea has such a windy sound, — Will the ships go down? The apples in the orchard
If I might see another Spring I’d not plant summer flowers and w… I’d have my crocuses at once My leafless pink mezereons, My chill—veined snow—drops, choice…
None other Lamb, none other Name, None other hope in Heav’n or eart… None other hiding place from guilt… None beside Thee! My faith burns low, my hope burns…
This Advent moon shines cold and… These Advent nights are long; Our lamps have burned year after y… And still their flame is strong. ‘Watchman, what of the night?’ we…
‘Croak, croak, croak,’ Thus the Raven spoke, Perched on his crooked tree As hoarse as hoarse could be. Shun him and fear him,
The dog lies in his kennel, And Puss purrs on the rug, And baby perches on my knee For me to love and hug. Pat the dog and stroke the cat,
To think that this meaningless thi… Scentless, colourless, this! Will it ever be thus (who knows?) Thus with our bliss, If we wait till the close?
Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing, Nor cricket chirping cheerily, Nor grasshopper so light of leap,
I loved my love from green of Spr… Until sere Autumn’s fall; But now that leaves are withering How should one love at all? One heart’s too small