“Love seeketh not itself to please… Nor for itself hath any care, But for another gives its ease, And builds a Heaven in Hell's des… So sung a little Clod of Clay
THERE’S Doctor Clash, And Signor Falalasole, O they sweep in the cash Into their purse hole! Fa me la sol, La me fa sol!
Little fly, Thy summer’s play My thoughtless hand Has brushed away. Am not I
I heard an Angel singing When the day was springing, “Mercy, Pity, Peace Is the world’s release.” Thus he sung all day
Pity would be no more If we did not make somebody poor, And Mercy no more could be If all were as happy as we. And mutual fear brings Peace,
JUSTICE hath heaved a sword to plunge in Albion’s breast; for Albion’s sins are crimson dy’d, and the red scourge follows her desolate sons. Then Patriot rose; full oft did Patriot rise...
The Maiden caught me in the wild, Where I was dancing merrily; She put me into her Cabinet, And lock’d me up with a golden key… This Cabinet is form’d of gold
Sweet dreams, form a shade O’er my lovely infant’s head! Sweet dreams of pleasant streams By happy, silent, moony beams! Sweet Sleep, with soft down
O FOR a voice like thunder, and… To drown the throat of war! When… Are shaken, and the soul is driven… Who can stand? When the souls of… Fight in the troubled air that rag…
WHO is this, that with unerring step dares tempt the wilds, where only Nature’s foot hath trod? ’Tis Contemplation, daughter of the grey Morning! Majestical she steppeth, and with her p...
I dreamt a dream! What can it me… And that I was a maiden Queen Guarded by an Angel mild: Witless woe was ne’er beguiled! And I wept both night and day,
What is it men in women do require The lineaments of Gratified Desir… What is it women do in men require The lineaments of Gratified Desir…
WELCOME, 1 stranger, to this pl… Where joy doth sit on every bough, Paleness flies from every face; We reap not what we do not sow. Innocence doth like a rose
Cruelty has a human heart And jealousy a human face, Terror the human form divine, And secrecy the human dress. The human dress is forged iron,
Whether on Ida’s shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East, The chambers of the sun, that now From ancient melody have ceas’d; Whether in Heav’n ye wander fair,