A pocket handkerchief to hem — Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! How many stitches it will take Before it’s done, I fear. Yet set a stitch and then a stitch…
‘Kookoorookoo! kookoorookoo!’ Crows the cock before the morn; ‘Kikirikee! kikirikee!’ Roses in the east are born. ‘Kookoorookoo! kookoorookoo!’
I loved you first: but afterwards… Outsoaring mine, sang such a lofti… As drowned the friendly cooings of… Which owes the other most? my love… And yours one moment seemed to wax…
Hop–o’–my–thumb and little Jack H… What do you mean by tearing and fi… Sturdy dog Trot close round the c… I never caught him growling and bi…
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…
I was a cottage maiden Hardened by sun and air Contented with my cottage mates, Not mindful I was fair. Why did a great lord find me out,
In the bleak mid—winter Frosty wind made moan, Earth stood hard as iron, Water like a stone; Snow had fallen, snow on snow,
Every valley drinks, Every dell and hollow; Where the kind rain sinks and sink… Green of Spring will follow. Yet a lapse of weeks
‘Oh whence do you come, my dear fr… With your golden hair all fallen b… And your face as white as snowdrop… And your voice as hollow as the ho… ‘From the other world I come back…
Downstairs I laugh, I sport and j… But in my solitary room above I turn my face in silence to the w… My heart is breaking for a little… Though winter frosts are done,
I dug and dug amongst the snow, And thought the flowers would neve… I dug and dug amongst the sand, And still no green thing came to h… Melt, O snow! the warm winds blow
I said of laughter: it is vain. Of mirth I said: what profits it? Therefore I found a book, and wri… Therein how ease and also pain, How health and sickness, every one
There is but one May in the year, And sometimes May is wet and cold… There is but one May in the year Before the year grows old. Yet though it be the chilliest Ma…
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,
Two days ago with dancing glancing… With living lips and eyes: Now pale, dumb, blind, she lies; So pale, yet still so fair. We have not left her yet, not yet…