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…

True—there are books and books. T… For instance, and there’s Bacon; There’s Longfellow, and Monstrele… And also Colton’s “ Lacon,” With “Laws of Whist” and those o…

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…

Part I. A couple old sat o’er the fire, And they were bent and gray; They burned the charcoal for their… Who lived long leagues away.

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,

WHO remains in London, In the streets with me, Now that Spring is blowing Warm winds from the sea; Now that trees grow green and tall…

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…

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…

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.

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

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.

I HAVE two sons, wife’€” Two, and yet the same; One his wild way runs, wife, Bringing us to shame. The one is bearded, sunburnt, grim…

I would not wish thee other than t… I love thee, love, so well in ever… That had I power to change thee In form or face or mind, I could not find

Sing a song of Spring-time, The world is going round, Blown by the south wind: Listen to its sound. ‘Gurgle’ goes the mill-wheel,