#1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics #EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
OUR revels now are ended, so good… And each unto our chamber let us h… And there lose ourselves in vision… Again has bid adieu unto the sky. So good-bye
Mother wept, and father sigh’d; With delight a-glow Cried the lad, “To-morrow,” cried… “To the pit I go.” Up and down the place he sped,
I’M a-weary with care, I’m a-wear… Surrounded with woes that no morta… Whil’st I gaze on the night of my… Not a star to direct my lorn soul… I’m shorn of my strength and the f…
AH me! my heart is like to break, The envied rose upon my cheek, The blood red rose is cold and ble… Now Robin slighteth me. Alas! a shadow lone and pale
FROM pleasure’s cup the sage had… Till from a surfeit plagued—till l… The blossom in his nostril stank, That once had set his heart a-glow… By duty led he then began
LA, what a Night! The hag has… In hue to prove a chimla sweeper; And did the North not blow his ho… No star would dare to show its pee… How black her look!—(Just like th…
“A PHANTOM to me thou appeares… But spite of this seeming I know The magical image thou wearest, Is real as the lilies in blow; As real and as rare as the fairest…
ONE day as I came down by Jarrow… Engirt by a crowd on a stone, A woman sat moaning and sorrow Seized all who gave heed to her mo… “Nay, blame not my sad lamentation…
O, MY Spirit, art thou vanquisht… Is thy latest prospect gone? Must my task be thus relinquisht Ere my noble end is won? Must I die, and be remember’d
THE bitter wind blows o’er the de… —The bloom from the blossom foreve… And I must trudge on thro’ the sl… And sweet to my heart were the lot… Upon my shrunk bosom sleep seizeth…
I SAW but once that lovely one, Nor need I see her twice to love; She broke upon me like the dawn, And o’er my soul her magic wove— Yea, forced the lion stern to own
DAME Malice reigns the Queen of… With wink and whisper, nod and cha… She trots along, and never fags, While she has scandal-seeds to sca… Then when her seeds are poison-wee…
AIR—'Rossen the Beau.’ COME fill up the glass, and tho’… We tasted of gladness before, The thought of this moment for eve… Shall gladden the heart to its cor…
I’m as loyal a subject as Britain… Our Queen she is gracious, and ge… But another this moment demandeth… ’Tis Annie, the lass with the two… The hair of my idol’s a stream of…
AT Backworth sung till echo rung, A bard whose feelings were, In what to young and old he sung Of little Dolly Dare. ‘Tho’ Lizzy’s sweet and Polly’s n…