If he would come to—day, to—day, t… O, what a day to—day would be! But now he’s away, miles and miles… From me across the sea. O little bird, flying, flying, fly…
Remember me when I am gone away, Gone far away into the silent land… When you can no more hold me by th… Nor I half turn to go yet turning… Remember me when no more day by da…
Hope is like a harebell trembling… Love is like a rose the joy of all… Faith is like a lily lifted high a… Love is like a lovely rose the wor… Harebells and sweet lilies show a…
Oh roses for the flush of youth, And laurel for the perfect prime; But pluck an ivy branch for me Grown old before my time. Oh violets for the grave of youth,
It is over. What is over? Nay, now much is over truly!— Harvest days we toiled to sow for; Now the sheaves are gathered newly… Now the wheat is garnered duly.
Brown and furry Caterpillar in a hurry, Take your walk To the shady leaf, or stalk, Or what not,
A rose has thorns as well as honey… I’ll not have her for love or mone… An iris grows so straight and fine… That she shall be no friend of min… Snowdrops like the snow would chil…
If a pig wore a wig, What could we say? Treat him as a gentleman, And say ‘Good day.’ If his tail chanced to fail,
I am pale with sick desire, For my heart is far away From this world’s fitful fire And this world’s waning day; In a dream it overleaps
An emerald is as green as grass; A ruby red as blood; A sapphire shines as blue as heave… A flint lies in the mud. A diamond is a brilliant stone,
Too late for love, too late for jo… Too late, too late! You loiter’d on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch
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…
Growing in the vale By the uplands hilly, Growing straight and frail, Lady Daffadowndilly. In a golden crown,
Out of the church she followed the… With a lofty step and mien: His bride was like a village maid, Maude Clare was like a queen. “Son Thomas, ” his lady mother sa…
I wish I could remember the first… First hour, first moment of your m… If bright or dim the season, it mi… Summer or winter for aught I can… So unrecorded did it slip away,