The north-cast wind has come from… Roaring he came above the white wa… The foam of the loud sea was on hi… And all his hair was salt with fal… Over the keen light of northern da…
The nicest child I ever knew Was Charles Augustus Fortescue. He never lost his cap, or tore His stockings or his pinafore: In eating Bread he made no Crumbs…
My jolly fat host with your face a… Come, open the door to us, let us… A score of stout fellows who think… If they toast till they’re hoarse,… Hoofed it amain
A face Sir Joshua might have pain… Sir Joshua painted anything for p… And after all you’re painted every…
Remote and ineffectual Don That dared attack my Chesterton, With that poor weapon, half-impell… Unlearnt, unsteady, hardly held, Unworthy for a tilt with men—
Who was cursed with the Sin of Pr… Godolphin Horne was Nobly Born; He held the Human Race in Scorn, And lived with all his Sisters wh… His father lived, in Berkeley Squ…
Here richly, with ridiculous displ… The Politician’s corpse was laid… While all of his acquaintance snee… I wept: for I had longed to see h… Another on the Same
Who ran away from his Nurse and w… There was a Boy whose name was Ji… His Friends were very good to him… They gave him Tea, and Cakes, and… And slices of delicious Ham,
The Kings come riding back from t… The purple Kings and all their mo… They fill the street with clamorou… The Kings have broken down the Sa… Singing a great song of the easter…
Do you remember an Inn, Miranda? Do you remember an Inn? And the tedding and the spreading Of the straw for a bedding,
As a friend to the children commen… You will find it exactly the thing… It will carry and fetch, you can r… Or lead it about with a string. The Tartar who dwells on the plai…
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…
This is the laughing-eyed amongst… My lady’s month. A season of youn… She rules the light with harmony,… The year’s first green upon the be… How often, where long creepers win…
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…
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,