Life (priest and poet say) is but… I wish no happier one than to be l… Beneath a cool syringa’s scented s… Or wavy willow, by the running str… Brimful of moral, where the dragon…
O’erfoaming with rage The foul—mouth’d judge Page Thus question’d a thief in the doc… “Didst never hear read In the church, lump of lead!
THE DREAMY rhymer’s measur’d s… Falls heavy on our ears no more; And by long strides are left behin… The dear delights of woman—kind, Who win their battles like their l…
With much ado you fail to tell The requisites for writing well; But, what bad writing is, you quit… Have proved by every line you writ…
Why, why repine, my pensive friend… At pleasures slipp’d away? Some the stern Fates will never l… And all refuse to stay. I see the rainbow in the sky,
I entreat you, Alfred Tennyson, Come and share my haunch of veniso… I have too a bin of claret, Good, but better when you share it… Tho’ 'tis only a small bin,
There is delight in singing, tho’… Beside the singer; and there is de… In praising, tho’ the praiser sit… And see the prais’d far off him, f… Shakspeare is not our poet, but th…
Damaetas is a boy as rue As ever broke maid’s solitude. He watcht the little Ida going Where the wood—raspberries were gr… And, under a pretence of fear
REMAIN, ah not in youth alone, Though youth, where you are, long… But when my summer days are gone, And my autumnal haste away. “Can I be always by your side?”
Tanagra! think not I forget Thy beautifully—storey’d streets; Be sure my memory bathes yet In clear Thermodon, and yet greet… The blythe and liberal shepherd bo…
I held her hand, the pledge of bli… Her hand that trembled and withdre… She bent her head before my kiss..… My heart was sure that hers was tr… Now I have told her I must part,
FATHER! the little girl we see Is not, I fancy, so like me; You never hold her on your knee. When she came home, the other day, You kiss’d her; but I cannot say
WITH rosy hand a little girl pre… A boss of fresh—cull’d cowslips in… Often as they sprang up again, a f… Show’d she dislik’d resistance to… But when they droop’d their heads…
FRIENDS, whom she look’d at bla… And her white wrist above it, gem—… Were arguing with Pentheusa: she… Report of Creon’s death, whom yea… She listen’d to, well—pleas’d; and…
From you, Ianthe, little troubles… Like little ripples down a sunny r… Your pleasures spring like daisies… Cut down, and up again as blithe a…