The lily has a smooth stalk, Will never hurt your hand; But the rose upon her briar Is lady of the land. There’s sweetness in an apple tree…
Hear what the mournful linnets say… ‘We built our nest compact and war… But cruel boys came round our way And took our summerhouse by storm. ‘They crushed the eggs so neatly l…
The peacock has a score of eyes, With which he cannot see; The cod—fish has a silent sound, However that may be; No dandelions tell the time,
Something this foggy day, a someth… Is neither of this fog nor of toda… Has set me dreaming of the winds t… Past certain cliffs, along one cer… And turn the topmost edge of waves…
Three plum buns To eat here at the stile In the clover meadow, For we have walked a mile. One for you, and one for me,
They made the chamber sweet with f… And the bed sweet with flowers on… While my soul, love—bound, loitere… I did not hear the birds about the… Nor hear the reapers talk among th…
I cannot tell you how it was, But this I know: it came to pass Upon a bright and sunny day When May was young; ah, pleasant… As yet the poppies were not born
Unmindful of the roses, Unmindful of the thorn, A reaper tired reposes Among his gathered corn: So might I, till the morn!
Hurt no living thing: Ladybird, nor butterfly, Nor moth with dusty wing, Nor cricket chirping cheerily, Nor grasshopper so light of leap,
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…
A pin has a head, but has no hair; A clock has a face, but no mouth t… Needles have eyes, but they cannot… A fly has a trunk without lock or… A timepiece may lose, but cannot w…
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?
If the sun could tell us half That he hears and sees, Sometimes he would make us laugh, Sometimes make us cry: Think of all the birds that make
A toadstool comes up in a night, — Learn the lesson, little folk: — An oak grows on a hundred years, But then it is an oak.
I have no wit, no words, no tears; My heart within me like a stone Is numb’d too much for hopes or fe… Look right, look left, I dwell al… I lift mine eyes, but dimm’d with…