I SAW my Lady weep, And Sorrow proud to be advanced s… In those fair eyes where all perfe… Her face was full of woe; But such a woe (believe me) as win…
Westron wind, when wilt thou blow That small rain down can rain? Christ, that my love were in my ar… And I in my bed again!
O WHAT a plague is love! How shall I bear it? She will inconstant prove, I greatly fear it. She so torments my mind
My one, the sister without peer, The handsomest of all! She looks like the rising morning… At the start of a happy year. Shining bright, fair of skin,
The following Epilogue to “The Padlock” was written by a very worthy Clergyman, soon after the first representation of that opera. The author of this little poem died in the Summer of 1...
SINCE first I saw your face I r… If now I be disdained I wish my h… What? I that loved and you that l… No, no, no, my heart is fast, and… If I admire or praise you too muc…
There once was a man from Nantuck… Who kept all of his cash in a buck… But his daughter, named Nan, Ran away with a man And as for the bucket, Nan took i…
When things go wrong, as they some… When the road you’re trudging seem… When the funds are low and the deb… And you want to smile but you have… When care is pressing you down a b…
THIS ae nighte, this ae nighte, —Every nighte and alle, Fire and fleet and candle-lighte, And Christe receive thy saule. When thou from hence away art past…
HIERUSALEM, my happy home, When shall I come to thee? When shall my sorrows have an end, Thy joys when shall I see? O happy harbour of the Saints!
QUHEN Flora had o’erfret the fi… In May of every moneth queen; Quhen merle and mavis singis with… Sweet melling in the shawis she… Quhen all luvaris rejoicit bene
I want to go home, I want to go home, I don’t want to go in the trenches… Where whizz-bangs and shrapnel the… Take me over the sea
BALOW, my babe, lie still and sl… It grieves me sore to see thee wee… Wouldst thou be quiet I’se be gla… Thy mourning makes my sorrow sad: Balow my boy, thy mother’s joy,
I went to a party, Mom, I remembered what you said. You told me not to drink, Mom, So I drank soda instead. I really felt proud inside, Mom,
‘O WHA will shoe my bonny foot? And wha will glove my hand? And wha will bind my middle jimp Wi’ a lang, lang linen band? ‘O wha will kame my yellow hair,