To Santa Claus (James Whitcomb Riley Poems)
Most tangible of all the gods that be,O Santa Claus-- our own since Infancy!As first we scampered to thee-- now, ...
Most tangible of all the gods that be,O Santa Claus-- our own since Infancy!As first we scampered to thee-- now, ...
Cold is the air,The woods are bareAnd brown; the herdStand in the yard.The frost doth fall;And round the hillThe hares ...
My little learning fadeth fast away, And all the host of words and forms and rules Bred in my teeming youth of ...
Does the snow fall at sea? Yes, when the north winds blow, When the wild clouds fly low, Out of each gloomy wing, Silently ...
We are what nature made us; soon or late,Life's art that fadeth passeth slow away,With iron eatings of our sordid ...
Blessed be thy name for ever,Thou of life the guard and giver!Thou canst guard thy creatures sleeping,Heal the heart long ...
Observe ye not yon high cliff's brow,Up which a wanderer clambers slow,'T is by a hoary ruin crown'd,Which rocks when ...
O Waly, waly, up the bank, O wary, waly, doun the brae, And waly, waly, yon burn-side, Where I and my love wer wont to gae! I lean'd my back unto an aik, I thocht it was a trustie tree, But first it bow'd and syne it brak',— Sae my true love did lichtlie me. O waly, waly, but love be bonnie A little time while it is new! But when its auld it waxeth cauld, And fadeth awa' like the morning dew. O wherefore should I busk my heid, Or wherefore should I kame my hair? For my true love has me forsook, And says he'll never lo'e me mair. Noo Arthur's seat sall be my bed. The sheets sall neir be press'd by me; Saint Anton's well sall be my drink; Since my true love's forsaken me. Martinmas wind, when wilt thou blaw, And shake the green leaves off the tree? O gentle death, when wilt thou come? For of my life I am wearie. 'Tis not the frost that freezes fell, Nor blawing-snaw's inclemencie, 'Tis not sic cauld that makes me cry; But my love's heart grown cauld to me. Whan we cam' in by Glasgow toun, We were a comely sicht to see; My love was clad in the black velvet, An' I mysel' in cramasie. But had I wist before I kiss'd That love had been so ill to win, I'd lock'd my heart in a case o' goud, And pinn'd it wi' a siller pin. Oh, oh! if my young babe were born, And set upon the nurse's knee; And I mysel' were dead and gane, And the green grass growing over me!(Anonymous Americas)
Love me little, love me long,Is the burden of my song.Love that is too hot and strongBurneth soon to waste.Still, ...
As withereth the Primrose by the river,As fadeth Sommers-sunne from gliding fountaines;As vanisheth the light blowne bubble ever,As melteth snow ...
Weep not at all: crocuses in the grass, Like little flames of gold, flicker and pass; The buds that after ...
WE cannot know the child's deep heart,We cannot learn his grief;Though childhood still is dear to man,And the spent time ...
O, a beautiful thing is the flower that fadeth, And perishing, smiles on the chill autumn wind;A sweet desolation its ...
'Twas at that hour of beauty when the setting sun squandereth his cloudy bed with rosy hues, to flood his ...
Work! for the night is coming; Work! through the morning hours; Work! while the dew is sparkling; Work! 'mid the ...
The nightingale, as soon as April bringeth Unto her rested sense a perfect waking, While late bare earth, proud of ...
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those ...
THAT time of year thou may'st in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those ...
That time of year thou mayst in me behold When yellow leaves, or none, or few, do hang Upon those ...
That time of year thou mayst in me behold, When yellow leaves, or none, or few do hang Upon those ...
Ambition I am the maid of the lustrous eyes Of great fruition, Whom the sons of men that are over-wise ...
© 2020 Inspirational Stories