#AmericanWriters
‘J’avais une colombe blanche, J’avais un blanc petit pigeon, Tous deux volaient, de branche en… Jusqu’au faîte de mon dongeon: Mais comme un coup de vent d’autom…
WELCOME, welcome, little strang… Fear no harm, and fear no danger; We are glad to see you here, For you sing ‘Sweet Spring is nea… Now the white snow melts away;
Brighter shone the golden shadows; On the cool wind softly came The low, sweet tones of happy flow… Singing little Violet’s name. ‘Mong the green trees was it whisp…
Queen of my tub, I merrily sing, While the white foam raises high, And sturdily wash, and rinse, and… And fasten the clothes to dry; Then out in the free fresh air the…
‘Here is the bracelet For good little May To wear on her arm By night and by day. When it shines like the sun,
We mourn the loss of our little pe… And sigh o’er her hapless fate, For never more by the fire she’ll… Nor play by the old green gate. The little grave where her infant…
OPPOSITE my chamber window, On the sunny roof, at play, High above the city’s tumult, Flocks of doves sit day by day. Shining necks and snowy bosoms,
‘Don’t drive me away, But hear what I say: Bad men want the gold; They will steal it to-night, And you must take flight;
CHEERFUL voices by the sea-sid… Echoed through the summer air, Happy children, fresh and rosy, Sang and sported freely there, Often turning friendly glances,
Oh! a bare, brown rock Stood up in the sea, The waves at its feet Dancing merrily. A little bubble
We sighing said, “Our Pan is dead… His pipe hangs mute beside the riv… Around it wistful sunbeams quiver, But Music’s airy voice is fled. Spring mourns as for untimely fros…
We are sending you, dear flowers Forth alone to die, Where your gentle sisters may not… O’er the cold graves where you lie… But you go to bring them fadeless…
Now the day is done, Now the shepherd sun Drives his white flocks from the s… Now the flowers rest On their mother’s breast,
Hither, hither, from thy home, Airy sprite, I bid thee come! Born of roses, fed on dew, Charms and potions canst thou brew… Bring me here, with elfin speed,
‘And if your Nancy frowns, my lad… And scorns a jacket blue, Just hoist your sails for other po… And find a maid more true.’