#1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics #EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
SHE is not fashioned to command, Nor once, for grace, in her is sho… A form that peers the lily-wand— An air the lily’s self might own; Not such her vaunt, tho’ such ench…
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…
DIES not the soul when dust to d… Even as we are in earth-life are w… Save from the worn-out garment ren… That may have proved a fetter to t… Not unto demons void of good conve…
COAL black are the tresses of Fa… But never a mortal could see The coal-coloured tresses of Anni… And be as a body should be. White, white, is her forehead, and…
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…
AH dearest dear, what do I hear? I’ve hurt thy feelings! have I, d… Then let thy words be fiery swords… To punish me with pangs severest! Than hear thee sigh, I’d rather d…
LA, what a Night! The hag has… In hue to prove a chimla sweeper; And did the North not blow his ho… No star would dare to show its pee… How black her look!—(Just like th…
THE DITTY. O, BECKY SHARP, dear Becky S… So very clever and so witty; I’m half inclined your praise to h… In one, at least, well-worded ditt…
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
FLY not away, wee birdie, pray! No weasels we, no evil-bringers, Would make thee bear the pangs tha… Too oft the hearts of sweetest sin… Long may thy nest with eggs be ble…
AWAY with the muses of frolic!—a… With the haunts of diversion and f… Ay, mine be the joy to awaken a la… And to weave for misfortune a garl… We shrink at life’s shadows and fl…
SHE took the wood thro’ which she… But in the lake near which she wen… An image met, and swayed and swung… And three times with her image ble… The vision from that mirror fled,
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,
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
I NEVER said my verse you’d moc… Nor how you’d giggled at my gramma… You, on whom Fame her door has lo… I little mark’d your empty clamour… I merely said that when you’d call…