O,
Inspired by the Bronte sisters
It is I write a few lines Of a poets story of thy Times We all like Mr chimes Who drinks gin on the
The sweet smell of flowers Lies in the wet dewy grass Upon they wake of the dawn Of the day From dawn to dust they
what from this barran land can we reap? our fields are dry my body Frail Go on the trail before thy fail
The sails were full and a fair win… Blows, and the English Dutch flee… Mast show. As to fast away Plymouth to the w… Cliffs of Dover, the HMS ship th…
Yet you know upon you To let me suffer the pain The hurtfull strain in the Rain. Humilinate does you know sad
Ah. let the sweet angels Dream. Keep his eye lids on thy Pillow, Fever make us all thin and
Still waters of the stream Row in my boat in the river Tay. Upon the swans of the lake Come up to side of the boat
O.,er the banks Of the boni doon Touch and sit by The slippery moon O,.er the fields of
draw draw draw Near the artists lair Upon he sits on the Gallery chair Lay with honey yellow
Gapes around the silent arena Tis inside bugle trumpets bull ca… Tis of wild angry soundings foot Bounds and spurns the angry mighty Brute, first run in the sand pit,…
In this open space I thee Lie upon I see trees on Either side and all there leaves to fall In my eyes
This open glen was thick with Thorns Tis then the white of the flower hide the horns of the shy fallow Deer
Some books are short And sweet Some books are lies From end to end Some books are true
O, enough, we live - 0,and a life, O, with large results 0 and, so Little rife, O thy see it bearable 0 and see It worth,
I see a game this a shame To see you at my front door a dame of fame sits by the Shore. Delights to see the blue floor