#1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics #EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
I HAD a merry bird Who sung a merry song, And take it on my word, The day it was not long In presence of my bird with its me…
UNKNIT that brow; the day too s… Departs when starry nights are nea… They’re clouded now, nor will the… Once come and try to make them cle… Be not like her, a peevish girl;—
THE baleful era of King Gold has… And men disgusted with the part th… From out the temple of their heart… The idols that debased the souls t… Man yet hath passions and the caus…
UPON a steed he came with speed, The Day behind him breaking; And still he sped when Day o’erhe… Her last farewell was taking. ‘Ah, whither fliest?—Name thy goa…
ALAS! the woe the high of heart, Seem pre-ordained to undergo, While proud ambition hides the sma… And smiles delude the world below. Their anguish, like a Samson blin…
SHE took the wood thro’ which she… But in the lake near which she wen… An image met, and swayed and swung… And three times with her image ble… The vision from that mirror fled,
“GET UP!” the caller calls, “Ge… And in the dead of night, To win the bairns their bite and s… I rise a weary wight. My flannel dudden donn’d, thrice o…
‘MY brother Jack the Rover, Sir!… ‘Bless me, I thought he was a cou… ‘Bound on a voyage to Elsinore!’ ‘Most merry damsels have a dozen!’ ‘That wench you tackled up the str…
“I HAVE, oped thy inner vision,” (Spake the Spirit to the Seer,) “Now I’ll show to thee the missio… Which whate’er betides—whate’er— Thou by heaven’s high permission s…
OLD Uncle Bob lay on the settle, At eventide, while on the hob, ‘Roe-tee-riti-too’ sang the kettle… And charmed the dear heart of old… ‘Ree-tee-riti-too’ on his ears, lo…
HEAVEN-GIFTED was the mortal… A bard the chords of whose great s… Who deemed the mighty universe its… From which at the Creator’s touch… An instrument it is by which a gam…
THE vision will vanish for ever, That gildeth this moment thy track… And in vain were the noblest endea… To call the enchantment back. Yet pine not; a balm—an ovation
center A new song to an old tune. AWAY to the pic-nic at Ryton, aw… Went off in the sunrise our younke… And many were bonny and many were…
‘I HATE outlandish things, and o… I’ve little liking for the sonnet; ’Tis for a lazy Muse, and one Who hath a bumler in her bonnet. ‘Tis a humdrum song, and tho’ not…
PERFIDIOUS damsel, with thy d… Those skill’d enchanters of a sunn… Thou, thou hast charmed the dragon… Before my soul’s Hesperides, and… Her fruit of burnished ore—the sou…