#EnglishWriters
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…
BALOO, my sweet baby—the blossom… I dandle’t till weary, and sigh, With not a bare drop in my bosom To silence its pitiful cry. The red moon above us right rarely…
A SYREN, with her mirror bright… His ear enchants; and while he lis… His image on his dazzled sight, A very jewel gleams and glistens. Ah, could he peer into yon brook,
(The first two lines are old.) HEY Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady doth? Is she laughing, is she sobbing Is she gay, or grave, or both?
I READ in an old book the myth Of the Hellenian damsel with The magic needle, when there fell On me a power—a mystic spell— I could not well to others tell.
PERFIDIOUS damsel, with thy d… Those skill’d enchanters of a sunn… Thou, thou hast charmed the dragon… Before my soul’s Hesperides, and… Her fruit of burnished ore—the sou…
FROM pleasure’s cup the sage had… Till from a surfeit plagued—till l… The blossom in his nostril stank, That once had set his heart a-glow… By duty led he then began
A CHANGE hath come over young… The yellow-hair’d lass of the Den… Erewhile she look’s cosy and canny… But now—now, what aileth the queen… Erewhile she’d the bearing which b…
’TIS little Robin Redbreast Was piping on the spray, ‘And pray, mamma, what shall we do To bring him up this way?’ Mamma into the pantry goes,
THRICE ‘Iö Pæan!’ let me cry, And bless the hour that I was bor… And born thro’ love in vain to sig… To cheer my longing heart a morn Has risen in my ebon sky,
DUSKIER than the clouds that li… ‘Tween the coal-pit and the sky, Lo, how Willy whistles by Right cheery from the colliree. Duskier might the laddie be
IN trumpet-toned accents I heard A voice in a vision to cry;' ‘By threat of no tyrant deterred, We rear up our banner on high. ’No longer, tho’ feeble and poor,
FROM the pipe-end off it glides, Many hued appearing; What, if cynic harsh derides, Sets the boys a-staring. In their eyes gleam its dyes,
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
AH, deem not when thy minstrel tu… His harp to hours and glories vani… His star of stars, his moon of moo… Can ever from his heart be banish’… Each tune he wakes, each note that…