#1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics #EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
WHAT is Man? The question flo… From the lips with ease, and yet He who best can answer knoweth, Answer true were hard to get. Not the Sphinx in Egypt olden
WHEN first the maiden fair I eye… —This world is a world of grief al… A lily she held and a rose beside But I was doomed her lot to moan. The rose was gain’s and the lily w…
CAN this be her? Her dark eyes… Two planets in the midnight heaven… Her cheeks the blood-dyed rose—her… The snow upon the mountains driven… Her tongue’s a silver bell to hear…
WHAT can he ail? I hear them ask And what can make his cheek so pal… Ah, that to answer were a task For which no effort could avail, To say I love were but to say
OH, what is Life? A magic nigh… In which we still to phantoms yiel… And what is Death, if not the lig… By which the real truth’s reveal’d…
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…
HER harp she takes, from string t… Her little snowy fingers, glancing… Into Night’s ear a wild spell fli… And all the while my heart is danc… Why thus, fond heart, thus dancest…
I THANK my God I ever lived to… When the spirit’s immortality to m… Not by a logic might be made some… But by a flash of inner light too… Long, long can death, be death ind…
AH me! my heart is like to break, The envied rose upon my cheek, The blood red rose is cold and ble… Now Robin slighteth me. Alas! a shadow lone and pale
AIR—'Rossen the Beau.’ COME fill up the glass, and tho’… We tasted of gladness before, The thought of this moment for eve… Shall gladden the heart to its cor…
My lad he is a Collier Lad, And a blithe, blithe soul is he, And when a holiday comes around, He’ll spend that day in glee; He’ll tell his tale o’er a pint o’…
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…
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…
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
A THOUGHT TOILER faint and… And the manifold troubles by which… Combined with the titters and snee… Lost heart and thus vented the pan… “I’m a-weary with care, I’m a-wea…