#EnglishWriters
SHE took the oars and rowed along With such a grace, the mere did wa… Into a sweet, melodious song, At every charming stroke was taken… And at each sound, the hills aroun…
THE rogue, she smiled, then swept… Her raven locks behind her streami… My very pulse forgot to play, And I was left in wonder dreaming… The Pleiads lost their charms tha…
DON’T spur us so: you’ll ever fi… When you will ride at giddy paces There’s always something in the wi… At which ere long you’ll twist you… What, we’re but steeds whom no one…
THE memories of moments flown, Into my spirit’s glass assemble; And as they enter, one by one, My heart-strings into music trembl… Even as the harp, the breezelet sw…
BACK flies my soul to other year… When thou that charming lay repeat… When smiles were only chased by te… Yet sweeter far than smiles the sw… Thy music ends, and where are they…
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,
‘BEWARE! yon bird now in glee o… May drop into a snare:’ So sung we when a day of the past… away But not when Alf, was near.
I SAW but once that lovely one, Nor need I see her twice to love; She broke upon me like the dawn, And o’er my soul her magic wove— Yea, forced the lion stern to own
LAST night at the fair I met lig… And Nanny from Earsdon and bother… And yellow-hair’d Bessy and hazel… But Rosy for sweetness did bear o… Chorus.—Not Polly, nor Dolly, no…
THE stars are twinkling in the sk… As to the pit I go; I think not of the sheen on high, But of the gloom below. Not rest nor peace, but toil and s…
THE Hartley men are noble, and Ye’ll hear a tale of woe; I’ll tell the doom of the Hartley… The year of sixty-two. ’Twas on a Thursday morning, on
WHEN I would laugh a little at The follies that in Life aboundet… What ails the saint I worship, th… She with a frown my spirit woundet… Is laughter sin? ah, then full wel…
THE fickle Moon has left the ski… But Night’s blue veil with stars… And every little twinkler tries To twinkle as he’d never twinkled. O, now’s the hour for Love to pou…
AH! a lovely jewel was Mary of C… And now she is cold in the clay, We think of the heart-cheering ima… As we pass down the old waggon way… Her air was a magical air, and the…
How long shall injustice prevail? How long shall the weak rue the st… The children of Poland bewail The yoke of the Russian?—How long… Lo! one generation goes by,