LITTLE Anna, cruel elf, Spite of all my reason, She, she puts me from myself, In and out of season; Ah, the imp! ah, the shrimp!

I’m as loyal a subject as Britain… Our Queen she is gracious, and ge… But another this moment demandeth… ’Tis Annie, the lass with the two… The hair of my idol’s a stream of…

O, COULD I a garland braid, That would never, never fade, I would crown the modest maid Queen of earth’s joy-giving band! Poor or wealthy, dark or fair,

IT sounded in castle and palace, It sounded in cottage and shed, It sped over mountains and valleys… And withered the earth as it sped Like a blast in its fell consummat…

ELF Rumour? Ay, the airy fay, That treads the air unseen by any; From town to town, her bugle’s blo… And merry are her pranks, and many… Her news our ears now charm, our f…

‘YOU little like the sonnet? Yo… But what are you? a creaking wicke… A cricket in the grass, allow Me, slut! to say a very cricket!— ’A chatter-box, or at the best’—

OLD Uncle Bob lay on the settle, At eventide, while on the hob, ‘Roe-tee-riti-too’ sang the kettle… And charmed the dear heart of old… ‘Ree-tee-riti-too’ on his ears, lo…

TO-NIGHT a gilded moth took win… And round-a-round yon wax-light fl… And, while his flight did her enri… He nearer to the dazzler drew. ‘So fair art thou,’ he cried, 'to…

AT Backworth sung till echo rung, A bard whose feelings were, In what to young and old he sung Of little Dolly Dare. ‘Tho’ Lizzy’s sweet and Polly’s n…

Misfortune is a darling, ever Most faithful to the minstrel race… Let low-bred wretches shun them, n… Yet acted she a part so base. True, oft by her the bard discover…

WHAT is man? The question flow… From the lips with ease, and yet He who best could answer knoweth Answer true were hard to get: Not the Sphinx in Egypt olden,

A SONG in devotion I sing to my… Ah! be startled not to discover I… To fold in my arms and possess wha… And many a time is the theme of my… My manhood’s dissolved at the sigh…

COAL black are the tresses of Fa… But never a mortal could see The coal-coloured tresses of Anni… And be as a body should be. White, white, is her forehead, and…

A LITTLE brooklet trilled a son… As merry as the day was long, At which a music-hater stung To frenzy said: 'I’ll bind thy to… And quell thy merriment:' That…

A new song to an old tune. AWAY to the pic-nic at Ryton, aw… Went off in the sunrise our younke… And many were bonny and many were… But sweetest of any was Barbara B…