#1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics #EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
TRIUMPHANT o’er trouble, triu… Triumphant o’er all and thro’ all… With the cry "Iö Pæan!" and Echo… From her cave "Iö Pæan!" enraptur… The storm may set in and the summe…
JUST let the Owl of Evil howl! To mourners of each rank and stati… I cry, Come troll the Golden Bow… And quaff with me one deep potatio… Each sparkling droplet to the soul
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…
I HAD a merry bird Who sung a merry song, And take it on my word, The day it was not long In presence of my bird with its me…
LAST night at the fair I met lig… And Nanny from Earsdon and bother… And yellow-hair’d Bessy and hazel… But Rosy for sweetness did bear o… Chorus.—Not Polly, nor Dolly, no…
’TWAS on a night, with sleet and… From out the north a tempest blew, When Thistle to her cot did go The little Nettle’s self to woo. His errand known, she, with a frow…
DON’T spur us so: you’ll ever fi… When you will ride at giddy paces There’s always something in the wi… At which ere long you’ll twist you… What, we’re but steeds whom no one…
YOU turn up your nose at me? I suppose, I’m noisome and base? Before on my head you cruelly trea… Give ear to my case. A lily-bell rare, my charms were l…
BALOO, my sweet baby—the blossom… I dandle’t till weary, and sigh, With not a bare drop in my bosom To silence its pitiful cry. The red moon above us right rarely…
MY love at Seaton Terrace dwells… A hale and hearty wight, Who lilts away the summer day, Also the winter night: The merriest bird with rapture sti…
IN despite of the cold and the gl… To ornament summer’s bleak tomb, Blooms the snowdrop; and lo! at th… Sad Flora is thrilled with deligh… And exults in the moments to come.
‘You wont!’ the Rose’s accents ri… ‘I will!’ the Golden Bee’s are ri… And tho’ the winds, to aid her, sp… Soon with the breeze-tost bloom he… swinging.
‘You naughty Bee!’ the Red Rose… ‘To come at noon by Envy driven, And wound the bloom whose beauty m… The Sun to linger in the heaven! ’I little dream’d, while I did gr…
‘YOU little like the sonnet? Yo… But what are you? a creaking wicke… A cricket in the grass, allow Me, slut! to say a very cricket!— ’A chatter-box, or at the best’—
I’m the spirit Emmalina thy guard… Drawn hither by a subtle law but f… The golden cord of sympathy I lea… Thy aching brows with lilies to en… I have watched thee late and early…