#RhymedStanza
Memory, hither come, And tune your merry notes; And, while upon the wind Your music floats, I’ll pore upon the stream
AS I walk’d forth one May mornin… To see the fields so pleasant and… O! there did I spy a young maiden… Among the violets that smell so sw… smell so sweet,
Can I see another’s woe, And not be in sorrow too? Can I see another’s grief, And not seek for kind relief? Can I see a falling tear,
The wild winds weep And the night is a—cold; Come hither, Sleep, And my griefs infold: But lo! the morning peeps
Silent, silent Night Quench the holy light Of thy torches bright. For possess’d of Day Thousand spirits stray
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,
Ah! sunflower, weary of time, Who countest the steps of the sun, Seeking after that sweet golden cl… Where the traveller’s journey is d… Where the youth pined away with de…
I love to rise in a summer morn When the birds sing on every tree; The distant huntsman winds his hor… And the skylark sings with me. Oh, what sweet company!
There is a smile of love, And there is a smile of deceit, And there is a smile of smiles In which these two smiles meet; And there is a frown of hate,
In futurity I prophesy That the earth from sleep (Grave the sentence deep) Shall arise, and seek
WHEN the green woods laugh with… And the dimpling stream runs laugh… When the air does laugh with our m… And the green hill laughs with the… When the meadows laugh with lively…
“I have no name: I am but two days old.” What shall I call thee? “I happy am, Joy is my name.”
“Father, father, where are you goi… O do not walk so fast. Speak, father, speak to your littl… Or else I shall be lost.” The night was dark, no father was…
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…
LEAVE, O leave me to my sorrows… Here I’ll sit and fade away, Till I’m nothing but a spirit, And I lose this form of clay. Then if chance along this forest