Most Holy Night, that still dost… The keys of all the doors of sleep… To me when my tired eyelids close Give thou repose. And let the far lament of them
Who caroused in the Dirt and was… His Uncle came upon Franklin Hyd… Carousing in the Dirt. He Shook him hard from Side to S… And Hit him till it Hurt,
I will not try the reach again, I will not set my sail alone, To moor a boat bereft of men At Yarnton’s tiny docks of stone. But I will sit beside the fire,
Of three in One and One in three My narrow mind would doubting be Till Beauty, Grace and Kindness… And all at once were Juliet.
Behold, my child, the Nordic man, And be as like him, as you can; His legs are long, his mind is slo… His hair is lank and made of tow. And here we have the Alpine Race:
Child! do not throw this book abou… Refrain from the unholy pleasure Of cutting all the pictures out! Preserve it as your chiefest treas… Child, have you never heard it sai…
The Bison is vain, and (I write i… The Door-mat you see on his head Is not, as some learned professors… The opulent growth of a genius’ br… But is sewn on with needle and thr…
Who Slammed Doors For Fun And P… A trick that everyone abhors In little girls is slamming doors. A wealthy banker’s little daughter Who lived in Palace Green, Baysw…
Rise up, and do begin the day’s ad… The Summer dark is but the dawn o… The last of sunset fades into the… The morning calls you from the dar… The holy mist, the white mist of t…
The winter moon has such a quiet c… That all the winter nights are dum… She drives the gradual dark with d… And dreams go wandering from her d… Because the nights are silent, do…
G stands for Gnu, whose weapon of… Are long, sharp, curling horns, an… To these he adds a name so short a… That even hardy Boers pronounce i… How often on a bright autumnal day
I’m tired of Love: I’m still more… But Money gives me pleasure all t…
Lump says that Caliban’s of gutte… And Caliban says Lump’s a fool in… And Caliban and Lump and I are a…
And is it True? It is not True. And if it were it wouldn’t do, For people such as me and you Who pretty nearly all day long Are doing something rather wrong.
The mirror held your fair, my Fai… A fickle moment’s space. You looked into mine eyes, and the… For ever fixed your face. Keep rather to your looking-glass
