Bride of Abydos, The (Lord Byron Poem)
"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er ...
"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er ...
"Had we never loved so kindly, Had we never loved so blindly, Never met or never parted, We had ne'er ...
Chorus.-Lassie wi'the lint-white locks, Bonie lassie, artless lassie, Wilt thou wi' me tent the flocks, Wilt thou be my Dearie, ...
BEAUTEOUS Rosebud, young and gay, Blooming in thy early May, Never may'st thou, lovely flower, Chilly shrink in sleety shower! ...
YOUNG Peggy blooms our boniest lass, Her blush is like the morning, The rosy dawn, the springing grass, With early ...
HOW cold is that bosom which folly once fired, How pale is that cheek where the rouge lately glisten'd; How ...
we like to shower afterwards (I like the water hotter than she) and her face is always soft and peaceful ...
SHE wanders in the April woods, That glisten with the fallen shower; She leans her face against the buds, She ...
I don't know man trust is a precious thing a kind of humility Offer it to a snake and get ...
Over the darkened city, the city of towers, The city of a thousand gates, Over the gleaming terraced roofs, the ...
One, from his high bright window in a tower, Leans out, as evening falls, And sees the advancing curtain of ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
1 Senlin sits before us, and we see him. He smokes his pipe before us, and we hear him. Is ...
He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower, Alike they're needful for the flower: And joys and tears alike are sent To ...
He sendeth sun, he sendeth shower, Alike they're needful for the flower: And joys and tears alike are sent To ...
Orpheus liked the glad personal quality Of the things beneath the sky. Of course, Eurydice was a part Of this. ...
Something strange is creeping across me. La Celestina has only to warble the first few bars Of "I Thought about ...
O HOW shall I, unskilfu', try The poet's occupation? The tunefu' powers, in happy hours, That whisper inspiration; Even they ...
HOW pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon, With green spreading bushes and flow'rs blooming fair! But the boniest ...
Do ye hear the children weeping, O my brothers, Ere the sorrow comes with years? They are leaning their young ...
I love to rise in a summer morn, When the birds sing on every tree; The distant huntsman winds his ...
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