#EnglishWriters
PERFIDIOUS damsel, with thy d… Those skill’d enchanters of a sunn… Thou, thou hast charmed the dragon… Before my soul’s Hesperides, and… Her fruit of burnished ore—the sou…
DECK’D in a many gems of morn, A daffodil without a peer, I reared my head, and treat with s… A one-pearl-gifted daisy near. That very hour, lo! wind-a-rock’d
ALAS! the woe the high of heart, Seem pre-ordained to undergo, While proud ambition hides the sma… And smiles delude the world below. Their anguish, like a Samson blin…
HE’S not the bird I took him for… I heard him in the distance scream… And tho’ his voice was harsh, that… I dream’d of glories, golden, glea… This hour he meets my closer view;
MERRY, lark-like, merry, At the break of day, Polly meeteth Harry Coming down the way; And her lips, they quiver,
O, COULD I a garland braid, That would never, never fade, I would crown the modest maid Queen of earth’s joy-giving band! Poor or wealthy, dark or fair,
UPON a steed he came with speed, The Day behind him breaking; And still he sped when Day o’erhe… Her last farewell was taking. ‘Ah, whither fliest?—Name thy goa…
MY loved one appears In a vision by night, The loveliest jewel Ever gladdened the sight; With her pensive blue eyes,
OLD Uncle Bob lay on the settle, At eventide, while on the hob, ‘Roe-tee-riti-too’ sang the kettle… And charmed the dear heart of old… ‘Ree-tee-riti-too’ on his ears, lo…
WHEN Day once stirs, her locks o… Up, seize, ere she is well awaken! And with her steps thy paces hold, Till she from Earth her leave hat… What tho’ upon the way she frown,
UNKNIT that brow; the day too s… Departs when starry nights are nea… They’re clouded now, nor will the… Once come and try to make them cle… Be not like her, a peevish girl;—
THEY’D told me he was hoar and o… They’d told me he was weak and wor… And wonder-bound did I behold Him merry as a summer morn. Bound, wonder-bound; but when I f…
(The chorus is old.) AWAY to the Fair, my lad did rep… Ere day had the welkin adorned; Now day’s glidden by and night’s i… And he, he has never returned:
“I HAVE, oped thy inner vision,” (Spake the Spirit to the Seer,) “Now I’ll show to thee the missio… Which whate’er betides—whate’er— Thou by heaven’s high permission s…
THE fickle Moon has left the ski… But Night’s blue veil with stars… And every little twinkler tries To twinkle as he’d never twinkled. O, now’s the hour for Love to pou…