#RhymedStanza
My mother groan’d! my father wept. Into the dangerous world I leapt: Helpless, naked, piping loud, Like a fiend hid in a cloud. Struggling in my father’s hands,
I wonder whether the girls are mad… And I wonder whether they mean to… And I wonder if William Bond wil… For assuredly he is very ill. He went to church in a May mornin…
‘Twas on a Holy Thursday, their i… The children walking two and two,… Grey headed beadles walk’d before,… Till into the high dome of Paul’s… Oh what a multitude they seem’d, t…
O, I say, you Joe, Throw us the ball! I’ve a good mind to go And leave you all. I never saw such a bowler
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…
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,
TO be or not to be Of great capacity, Like Sir Isaac Newton, Or Locke, or Doctor South, Or Sherlock upon Death—
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,
Awake, awake, my little boy! Thou wast thy mother’s only joy; Why dost thou weep in thy gentle s… Awake! thy father does thee keep. `O, what land is the Land of Drea…
I wander thro’ each charter’d stre… Near where the charter’d Thames d… And mark in every face I meet Marks of weakness, marks of woe. In every cry of every Man,
When my mother died I was very yo… And my father sold me while yet my… Could scarcely cry “ ‘weep! ’weep!… So your chimneys I sweep & in soo… There’s little Tom Dacre, who cri…
He who binds to himself a joy Does the winged life destroy He who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity’s sunrise
O THOU with dewy locks, who look… Thro’ the clear windows of the mor… Thine angel eyes upon our western… Which in full choir hails thy appr… The hills tell each other, and the…
In futurity I prophesy That the earth from sleep (Grave the sentence deep) Shall arise, and seek
Little Lamb, who made thee? Dost thou know who made thee? Gave thee life, and bid thee feed By the stream and o’er the mead; Gave thee clothing of delight,