The Irish Cabin (Patrick Branwell Bronte Poems)
Should poverty, modest and clean, E'er please, when presented to view, Should cabin on brown heath, or green, Disclose aught engaging to you, Should ...
Should poverty, modest and clean, E'er please, when presented to view, Should cabin on brown heath, or green, Disclose aught engaging to you, Should ...
Lobbin Clout, Cuddy, CloddipoleLobbin Clout.Thy younglings, Cuddy, are but just awake,No thrustles shrill the bramble-bush forsakeNo chirping lark the welkin ...
Ulcerated tooth keeps me awake, there issuch pain, would have to go to the hospital to haveit pulled or would ...
Sparabella.The wailings of a maiden I recite,A maiden fair, that Sparabella hight.Such strains ne'er warble in the linnet's throat,Nor the ...
MONDAY, OR, THE SQUABBLELobbin Clout, Cuddy, CloddipoleCUDDYHold, witless Lobbin Clout, I thee advise,Lest blisters sore on thy own tongue arise.Lo ...
I love to see the little goldfinch pluckThe groundsel's feather'd seed, and twit and twit,And soon in bower of apple ...
My Garden is a pleasant placeOf sun glory and leaf grace.There is an ancient cherry treeWhere yellow warblers sing to ...
Hail Bishop Valentine, whose day this is,All the air is thy Diocese,And all the chirping choristersAnd other birds are thy ...
Sour fiend, go home and tell the PitFor once you met your master, —A man who carried in his soulThree ...
ILMARINEN'S WOOING.ILMARINEN, hero-blacksmith,The eternal metal-worker,Hastens forward to the court-roomOf the hostess of Pohyola,Of the master of the Northland,Hastens through the ...
Rejoice in God, O ye Tongues; give the glory to the Lord, and the Lamb. Nations, and languages, and every ...
The Butterfly's Ball and the Grasshopper's Feasts Excited the spleen of the Birds and the Beasts: For their mirth ...
HOW lightly men can love, how soon forget! I said--yet some there be not false or fickle: For one, the ...
BIRDS in the green of my gardenBlackbirds and throstle and wren,Wet your dear wings in the tears that are Spring'sAnd ...
Out in the sun the goldfinch flitsAlong the thistle-tops, flits and twitsAbove the hollow woodWhere birds swim like fish -Fish ...
Life is simple. In my canoe. Strokes in the water propel me forward. I chart my course around the cove. ...
THE PROLOGUE. THE Cook of London, while the Reeve thus spake, For joy he laugh'd and clapp'd him on the ...
Rejoice in God, O ye Tongues; give the glory to the Lord, and the Lamb. Nations, and languages, and every ...
Greene, garlanded with February's few flowers Ere March came in with Marlowe's rapturous rage; Peele, from whose hand the sweet ...
There was a man lived quite near us; He had a wooden leg and a goldfinch in a green cage. ...
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