See, the grass is full of stars, Fallen in their brightness; Hearts they have of shining gold, Rays of shining whiteness. Buttercups have honeyed hearts, Bees they love the clover, But I love the daisies' dance All the meadow over. Blow, O blow, you happy winds, Singing summer's praises, Up the field and down the field A-dancing with the daisies. (Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall)
Now pipe no more, glad Shepherd, Your joys from this fair hill Through golden eves and still:There sounds from yon dense quarryA ...
I NEVER quite saw fairy-folkA-dancing in the glade,Where, just beyond the hollow oak,Their broad green rings are laid :But, while ...
As bullets come to us they're thin, They're angular, or smooth and fat, Some spiral are, and gimlet in, ...
"A great while ago there was a schoolboy who lived in a cottage by the sea,And the very first thing ...
I'm sorry for a fellow if he cannot look and seeIn a grate fire's friendly flaming all the joys which ...
O bat's cry and mist-rack and dark o' the moon!O roving of wayfarers and wetting of gay shoon!Fen-pool and quagmire ...
Come calf now to mother,Come lamb that I choose,Come cats, one and t' other,With snowy-white shoes,Come gosling all yellow,Come forth ...
They say she speeded wanton wild When she was warm with wine; And so she killed a little child, (Could ...
"And if he's gone away," said she, "Good riddance, if you're asking me. I'm not a one to lie awake ...
Drake he's in his hammock an' a thousand miles away, (Capten, art tha sleepin' there below?) Slung atween the round ...
