The Celebrated Woman – An Epistle By A Married Man (Friedrich von Schiller Poems)
Can I, my friend, with thee condole?— Can I conceive the woes that try men,When late repentance racks the soul ...
Can I, my friend, with thee condole?— Can I conceive the woes that try men,When late repentance racks the soul ...
Girlhood, the dearest time of joy and love, The sunny spring of gladness and of peace, The time that joins ...
There is a riverwhose waters run asleeprun run eversinging in the shallowsdumb in the hollowssleeping so deepand all the swallowsthat ...
(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)
"WHEN Nature had made all her birds, With no more cares to think on, She gave a rippling laugh, ...
STRANGERS! your eyes are on that valley fixedIntently, as we gaze on vacancy,When the mind's wings overspreadThe spirit-world of dreams.True, ...
Between two pillared clouds of gold The beautiful gates of evening swung --And far and wide from flashing fold The ...
Our Helen is a "perfect love" Of a blue-eyed baby; When she's grown she'll be a belle, ...
Our Helen is a "perfect love" Of a blue-eyed baby; When she's grown she'll be a belle, ...
CEASE to call him sad and sober, Merriest of months, October! Patron of the bursting bins, Reveler in wayside inns, ...
"Fie upon't!All men are false, I think. The date of loveIs out, expired, its stories all grown stale,O'erpast, forgotten, like ...
I knew a policeman once -- And this is true as it ever could be --Who made me feel an ...
'Find meat on bones that soon have none,And drink in the two milked crags,The merriest marrow and the dregsBefore the ...
We have wandered afar in our hunting for pleasure, We have scorned the soul's duty to gather up treasure; ...
The merriest time of all the year Is the time when the leaves begin to fall, When the ...
Once from a big, big building,When I was small, small,The queer folk in the windowsWould smile at me and call.And ...
THE DUSK of day's decline was hard on dark When evening trembled round thy glowworm lamp That shone ...
After so long an absence At last we meet agin: Does the meeting give us pleasure, Or does it give ...
It was the pleasant season yet, When the stones at cottage doors Dry quickly, while the roads are wet, After ...
In the outskirts of the village On the river's winding shores Stand the Occidental plane-trees, Stand the ancient sycamores. One ...
Once from a big, big building, When I was small, small, The queer folk in the windows Would smile at ...
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