Letter In Prose And Verse To Mrs. Bunbury (Oliver Goldsmith Poems)
MADAM,I read your letter with all that allowance which critical candour couldrequire, but after all find so much to object ...
MADAM,I read your letter with all that allowance which critical candour couldrequire, but after all find so much to object ...
I come upon it suddenly, alone-- A little pathway winding in the weedsThat fringe the roadside; and with dreams my own, I ...
The shepherd Corydon with love was firedFor fair Alexis, his own master's joy:No room for hope had he, yet, none ...
ALEXISThe shepherd Corydon with love was firedFor fair Alexis, his own master's joy:No room for hope had he, yet, none ...
It's the curiousest thing in creation, Whenever I hear that old song, "Do They Miss Me at Home?" I'm so bothered, My life ...
The skies are blue above my head, The prairie green below,And flickering o'er the tufted grass The shifting shadows go,Vague-sailing, where the ...
A serviceable thingIs fennel, mint, or balm,Kept in the thrifty calmOf hollows, in the spring;Or by old houses pent.Dear is ...
Good-night to the Season!-the ragesLed off by the chiefs of the throng,The Lady Matilda's new pages,The Lady Eliza's new song;Miss ...
Once more among our archangelic hillsThe streets of this old, grave, and gracious townThrob with renewing vigor as when SpringRushes ...
Down, you mongrel, Death!Back into your kennel!I have stolen breathIn a stalk of fennel!You shall scratch and you shall whineMany ...
I liked to go to the branch today; ...
O, road and path, and path and road,They write the story plain; To the picnic grounds, to the little church, ...
How sweet was life langsyne, langsyne, When youth was in its May;When tears were tears, and love was love, An' ...
Filled is Life's goblet to the brim; And though my eyes with tears are dim, I see its sparkling bubbles ...
Muse of my native land! loftiest Muse! O first-born on the mountains! by the hues Of heaven on the spiritual ...
Sweet Auburn! loveliest village of the plain, Where health and plenty cheered the labouring swain, Where smiling spring its earliest ...
I. You're my friend: I was the man the Duke spoke to; I helped the Duchess to cast off his ...
I wonder how you feel to-day As I have felt since, hand in hand, We sat down on the grass, ...
There is a fenceless garden overgrown With buds and blossoms and all sorts of leaves; And once, among the roses ...
No more of talk where God or Angel guest With Man, as with his friend, familiar us'd, To sit indulgent, ...
Down, you mongrel, Death! Back into your kennel! I have stolen breath In a stalk of fennel! You shall scratch ...
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