Haunted By Tigers (John Boyle O Reilly Poems)
NATHAN BEANS and William Lambert were two wild New England boys,Known from infancy to revel only in forbidden joys.Many a ...
NATHAN BEANS and William Lambert were two wild New England boys,Known from infancy to revel only in forbidden joys.Many a ...
SOME time ago from Rome, in smart array,A younger brother homeward bent his way,Not much improved, as frequently the caseWith ...
Such an amount of misery is there in my family this day,That the world is amazed and confounded, at the ...
Knit, knit, knit, knit! See old white-capped Pussy sit, Fairly gray with worry and care, In her ...
One Glass Of Beer. Tom Smith was the son of a Bedfordshire man; (The Smiths, we all know, are a ...
A lazy and careless boy was Jack,-- He would not work, and he would not play; And so ...
(Suggested by a Picture by Mr. Romney)Under the elm a rustic seatWas merriest Susan's pet retreat To merry-make. This Relative of mine Was she seventy-and-nine When she died? By the canvas may be seen How she look'd at seventeen, As a Bride. Beneath a summer tree Her maiden reverie Has a charm; Her ringlets are in taste; What an arm! and what a waist For an arm! With her bridal-wreath, bouquet, Lace farthingale, and gay Falbala, — If Romney's touch be true, What a lucky dog were you, Grandpapa! Her lips are sweet as love; They are parting! Do they move? Are they dumb? Her eyes are blue, and beam Beseechingly, and seem To say, "Come!" What funny fancy slips From atween these cherry lips? Whisper me, Fair Sorceress in paint, What canon says I mayn't Marry thee! That good-for-nothing Time Has a confidence sublime! When I first Saw this Lady, in my youth, Her winters had, forsooth, Done their worst. Her locks, as white as snow, Once shamed the swarthy crow; By-and-by That fowl's avenging sprite Set his cruel foot for spite Near her eye. Her rounded form was lean, And her silk was bombazine: Well I wot With her needles would she sit, And for hours would she knit, — Would she not? Ah perishable clay! Her charms had dropt away One by one: But if she heaved a sigh With a burthen, it was, "Thy Will be done." In travail, as in tears, With the fardel of her years Overprest, In mercy she was borne Where the weary and the worn Are at rest. Oh if you now are there, And sweet as once you were, Grandmamma, This nether world agrees You'll all the better please Grandpapa.(Frederick Locker-Lampson)
There's a brook on the side of Greylock that used to be full of trout, But there's nothing there now ...
SOME time ago from Rome, in smart array, A younger brother homeward bent his way, Not much improved, as frequently ...
The poster with my picture on it Is hanging on the bulletin board in the Post Office. I stand by ...
Twenty-first. Night. Monday. Silhouette of the capitol in darkness. Some good-for-nothing -- who knows why -- made up the tale ...
Kind Christians, pray list to me, And I'll relate a sad story, Concerning a little blind girl, only nine years ...
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