#1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics #EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
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,
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…
TRIUMPHANT o’er trouble, triu… Triumphant o’er all and thro’ all… With the cry "Iö Pæan!" and Echo… From her cave "Iö Pæan!" enraptur… The storm may set in and the summe…
AWAY to the well lilted Annie; Away with her skiel to the well; Away to the well whistled Johnnie… The pride and delight of the dell. Sweet, sweet is the well; but ah,…
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…
AS ever a bard in such pitiful pl… Was ever such seen by yon stars in… A-pit or a-bed, by day and by nigh… I’m plagued by the magic of two ha… A leaf in a whirlwind, I’m sent t…
AH, be not vain. In yon flower-be… As rare a pearl, did I appear, As ever grew in ocean shell, To dangle at a Helen’s ear. So was I till a cruel blast
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
FROM all that I have seen or hea… This world, is but an empty show, And only can the heart afford What tends to bitter strife and wo… Nay in its clutch, do what we will…
IN the coal-pit, or the factory, I toil by night or day, And still to the music of labour I lilt my heart-felt lay; I lilt my heart-felt lay
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…
SECURE within his citadel, my h… A roystering King, has quaft his… At pleasure’s sparkling fount,—has… Has hugg’d the phantom of delight—… Not dreaming from his sleep he’d e…
WRAPT in fancy by a river, That flows onward ever, ever, Down I sat me while the moon In her fairest vesture shone— All was still as death, when lo!
UPON a steed he came with speed, The Day behind him breaking; And still he sped when Day o’erhe… Her last farewell was taking. ‘Ah, whither fliest?—Name thy goa…
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’…