#1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics #EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
THERE’S not a may in Ellerton By half so sweet to look upon; In all the country round there’s n… So sweet as Dora Dee. The blood-red rose to passer by,
‘I HATE outlandish things, and o… I’ve little liking for the sonnet; ’Tis for a lazy Muse, and one Who hath a bumler in her bonnet. ‘Tis a humdrum song, and tho’ not…
A KNIGHT right bold rode over t… Saluted maidens three: ‘Now, if each possess’d what she l… What would her portion be?’ The eldest replied: ‘A carriage o…
THE vision will vanish for ever, That gildeth this moment thy track… And in vain were the noblest endea… To call the enchantment back. Yet pine not; a balm—an ovation
LET England beware, ere for war… She incur not the mark of the beas… That she march not her power the… Of the blood-imbued wolf of the E… It might be her gain that State t…
‘SWEET Billy Taylor went to sea… Bravo, my metre ballad-monger! ‘With silver buckles on his knee!’ Another stave—a little longer! ‘When he comes back he’ll marry me…
How long shall injustice prevail? How long shall the weak rue the st… The children of Poland bewail The yoke of the Russian?—How long… Lo! one generation goes by,
WOULD I could to freedom awaken… Half worthy the theme, then, a son… Would be echoed on high by the ser… And re-echoed on earth till with r… I would tell of the glory she give…
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…
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…
‘You wont!’ the Rose’s accents ri… ‘I will!’ the Golden Bee’s are ri… And tho’ the winds, to aid her, sp… Soon with the breeze-tost bloom he… swinging.
DAME Malice reigns the Queen of… With wink and whisper, nod and cha… She trots along, and never fags, While she has scandal-seeds to sca… Then when her seeds are poison-wee…
HE’S not the bird I took him for… I heard him in the distance scream… And tho’ his voice was harsh, that… I dream’d of glories, golden, glea… This hour he meets my closer view;
‘BEWARE! yon bird now in glee o… May drop into a snare:’ So sung we when a day of the past… away But not when Alf, was near.
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,