November is that historied Empero… Conquered in age, but foot to foot… Who from his refuge high has heard… Of squadrons in pursuit, and now,… Stirrups the storm and calls the w…
A face Sir Joshua might have pain… Sir Joshua painted anything for p… And after all you’re painted every…
When I am living in the Midlands That are sodden and unkind, I light my lamp in the evening: My work is left behind; And the great hills of the South…
The parents of the learned child (His father and his mother) Were utterly aghast to note The facts he would at random quote On creatures curious, rare, and wi…
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 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…
Be kind and tender to the Frog, And do not call him names, As ‘Slimy skin,’ or ‘Polly-wog,’ Or likewise ‘Ugly James,’ Or ‘Gap-a-grin,’ or ‘Toad-gone-wr…
Of all the gods that gave me all t… To-day there deigns to walk with m… I lead him by the hand and tell hi… It is the Queen of Cyprus’ little…
Lord Finchley tried to mend the E… Himself. It struck him dead: And… It is the business of the wealthy… To give employment to the artisan.
Because my faltering feet may fail… The first descendant of the steps… Give me the Word in time that tri… I too must pass into the misty hol… Where all our living laughter stop…
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 Lion, the Lion, he dwells in… He has a big head and a very small… But his shoulders are stark, and h… And a good little child will not p…
Who was frightened by a Passing M… “Oh murder! What was that, Papa!” “My child, It was a Motor-Car, A most Ingenious Toy! Designed to Captivate and Charm
Some years ago you heard me sing My doubts on Alexander Byng. His sister Sarah now inspires My jaded Muse, my failing fires. Of Sarah Byng the tale is told
Pale Ebenezer thought it wrong to… But Roaring Bill (who killed him)…