#Americans #Victorians
When one is young and eager, A bejant and a boy, Though his moustache be meagre, That cannot mar his joy When at the Competition
Never was sun so bright before, No matin of the lark so sweet, No grass so green beneath my feet, Nor with such dewdrops jewelled o’… I stand with thee outside the door…
Whene’er I try to read a book, Across the page your face will loo… And then I neither know nor care What sense the printed words may b… At night when I would go to sleep…
Brown was my friend, and faithful—… He came to see me in the twilight… I rose politely and invited him To take a seat—how heavily he sat! He sat upon the sofa, where my hat…
Ye who will help me in my dying pa… Speak not a word: let all your voi… Let me but hear some soft harmonio… And I shall die at peace. Music entrances, soothes, and gran…
My lamp is out, my task is done, And up the stair with lingering fe… I climb. The staircase clock stri… Good night, my love! good night, m… My solitary room I gain.
My Lady of all ladies! Queen by r… Of tender beauty; full of gentle m… With eyes that look divine beatitu… Large eyes illumined with her spir… Lips that are lovely both by sound…
Crimson and cream and white - My room is a garden of roses! Centre and left and right, Three several splendid posies. As the sender is, they are sweet,
Gone is the glory from the hills, The autumn sunshine from the mere, Which mourns for the declining yea… In all her tributary rills. A sense of change obscurely chills
You like the trifling triolet: Well, here are three or four. Unless your likings I forget, You like the trifling triolet. Against my conscience I abet
I met him down upon the pier, His eyes were wild and sad, And something in them made me fear That he was going mad. So, being of a prudent sort,
I know the garden-close of sin, The cloying fruits, the noxious fl… I long have roamed the walks and b… Desiring what no man shall win: A secret place to shelter in,
This morning, while we sat in talk Of spring and apple-bloom, Lo! Death stood in the garden wal… And peered into the room. Your back was turned, you did not…
After Longfellow Loud he sang the song Ta Phershon For his personal diversion, Sang the chorus U-pi-dee, Sang about the Barley Bree.
You found my life, a poor lame bir… That had no heart to sing, You would not speak the magic word To give it voice and wing. Yet sometimes, dreaming of that ho…