Why did baby die, Making Father sigh, Mother cry? Flowers, that bloom to die, Make no reply
“Too late for love, too late for j… Too late, too late! You loitered on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch
We met, hand to hand, We clasped hands close and fast, As close as oak and ivy stand; But it is past: Come day, come night, day comes at…
All the bells were ringing And all the birds were singing, When Molly sat down crying For her broken doll: O you silly Moll!
Every valley drinks, Every dell and hollow; Where the kind rain sinks and sink… Green of Spring will follow. Yet a lapse of weeks
Passing away, saith the World, pa… Chances, beauty and youth, sapp’d… Thy life never continueth in one s… Is the eye waxen dim, is the dark… That hath won neither laurel nor b…
When a mounting skylark sings In the sunlit summer morn, I know that heaven is up on high, And on earth are fields of corn. But when a nightingale sings
The horses of the sea Rear a foaming crest, But the horses of the land Serve us the best. The horses of the land
Love came down at Christmas, Love all lovely, love divine; Love was born at Christmas, Star and angels gave the sign. Worship we the Godhead,
Wee wee husband, Give me some money, I have no comfits, And I have no honey. Wee wee wifie,
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!
Herself a rose, who bore the Rose… She bore the Rose and felt its th… All loveliness new—born Took on her bosom its repose, And slept and woke there night and…
Oh, for the time gone by, when tho… Made His Yoke easy and His Burde… When my heart stirred within me at… Of Altar spread for awful Euchari… When all my hopes His promises su…
Summer is gone with all its roses, Its sun and perfumes and sweet flo… Its warm air and refreshing shower… And even Autumn closes. Yea, Autumn’s chilly self is goin…
Rosy maiden Winifred, With a milkpail on her head, Tripping through the corn, While the dew lies on the wheat In the sunny morn.