#EnglishWriters
Model of thy parent dear, Serious infant worth a fear: In thy unfaultering visage well Picturing forth the son of Tell, When on his forehead, firm and goo…
Time—mouldering crosses, gemmed wi… Of costliest work and Gothic trac… Point still the spot, to hallowed… Where rested on its solemn way the… That bore the bones of Edward’s E…
One Sunday eve a grave old man, Who had not been at church, did sa… ‘Eliza, tell me, if you can, What text our Doctor took to—day?… She hung her head, she blushed for…
To Jesus our Saviour some parents… Their children—what fears and what… When this the disciples would fain… Our Saviour reproved their unseas… Not only free leave to come to him…
A bird appears a thoughtless thing… He’s ever living on the wing, And keeps up such a carolling, That little else to do but sing A man would guess had he.
Thou too art dead, ——! very kind Hast thou been to me in my childis… Thou best good creature. I have n… How thou didst love thy Charles,… A prating school—boy: I have not…
I have taught your young lips the… Which form the petition we call th… And now let me help my dear child… The meaning of all the good words… ‘Our Father,’—the same appellatio…
‘Our governess is not in school, So we may talk a bit; Sit down upon this little stool, Come, little Mary, sit: ’And, my dear playmate, tell me wh…
An Ape is but a trivial beast, Men count it light and vain; But I would let them have their t… To have my Ape again. To love a beast in any sort
Sister, fie, for shame, no more, Give this ignorant babble o’er, Nor with little female pride Things above your sense deride. Why this foolish under—rating
'A wicked action fear to do, When you are by yourself; for thou… You think you can conceal it, A little bird that’s in the air The hidden trespass shall declare,
SISTER. Do, my dearest brother John, Let that butterfly alone. BROTHER. What harm now do I do?
A sparrow, when sparrows like parr… Addressed an old hen who could tal… Said he, 'It’s unjust that we spa… Our food, when your family’s fed e… ‘Were you like the peacock, that e…
Alone, obscure, without a friend, A cheerless, solitary thing, Why seeks, my Lloyd, the stranger… What offering can the stranger bri… Of social scenes, home—bred deligh…
Anger in its time and place May assume a kind of grace. It must have some reason in it, And not last beyond a minute. If to further lengths it go,