SHE passes in her beauty bright Amongst the mean, amongst the gay, And all are brighter for the sight… And bless her as she goes her way. And now a gleam of pity pours,

There once was an old man of Lyme Who married three wives at a time, When asked, ‘Why a third?’ He replied, 'One’s absurd! And bigamy, sir, is a crime.

There was a young lady of Wilts, Who walked up to Scotland on stil… When they said it was shocking To show so much stocking She answered: “Then what about ki…

CHILDREN indeed are we—childre… Within a wondrous dwelling, while… Stretch the sad vapors and the voi… The house is fair, yet all is deso… Because our Father comes not; clo…

There was a young lady named Laur… Who went to the wilds of Angora, She came back on a goat With a beautiful coat, And notes of the fauna and flora.

TO the Wake of O’Hara Came company; All St. Patrick’s Alley Was there to see, With the friends and kinsmen

There was a young lady of Wilts, Who walked up to Scotland on stil… When they said it was shocking To show so much stocking She answered: ‘Then what about ki…

WHEN He returns, and finds the w… All sleeping, young and old, unfai… Will he stoop down and whisper in… “Awaken!” or for pity’s sake forbe… Saying, “How shall I meet their f…

UNDER her gentle seeing, In her delicate little hand, They placed the Book of Being, To read and understand. The Book was mighty and olden,

There once was an old man of Lyme Who married three wives at a time, When asked, “Why a third?” He replied, "One’s absurd! And bigamy, sir, is a crime.

PLAY me a march, low-ton’€™d and… Fit for the wandering feet of one… Lonely, between the bones below an… Here for a while they smil’€™d and… Here with the grass beneath the fo…

HOW slowly creeps the hand of Ti… On the old clock’€™s green-mantled… Yea, slowly as those ivies climb, The hours roll round with patient… The drowsy rooks caw on the tower,

WHO calls me bold because I won… And did not pine, And waste my life with secret pain… To make him mine? I us’d no arts; ’t was Nature’s s…

There once was a girl of Lahore, The same shape behind as before; As no one knew where To offer a chair, She had to sit down on the floor.

THERE is a singing in the summer… The blue and brown moths flutter o… The stubble bird is creaking in th… And perch’d upon the honeysuckle-h… Pipes the green linnet. Oh, the g…