Oh, saw ye my own true love, I pr… My own true love so sweete? For the flowers have lightly toss’… The prynte of her faery feete. Now, how can we telle if she passe…

Thanks for an hour of laughing In a world that is growing old; Thanks for an hour of weeping In a world that is growing cold; For we who have wept with Dickens…

Give that brief to me, Without so much bother; Never let it be Given to another. Why this coy resistance?

Nothing so true as what you once l… “To growl at something is the lot… Contentment is a gem on earth unkn… And Perfect Happiness the wizard’… Give me,” you cried, “to see my du…

Thou little village curate, Come quick, and do not wait; We’ll sit and talk together, So sweetly _tete-a-tete_. Oh do not fear the railway

You say ‘tis plain that poets feig… And from the truth depart; They write with ease what fibs the… With artifice, not art; Dearer to you the simply true—

Champagne doth not a luncheon make… Nor caviare a meal; Men gluttonous and rich may take These till they make them ill. If I’ve potatoes to my chop,

Oh this earth is a mineful of trea… A goblet, that’s full to the brim, And each man may take for his plea… The thing that’s most pleasant to… Then let all, who are birds of my…

In olden time—in great Eliza’s ag… When rare Ben Jonson ruled the hu… No play without its Prologue migh… To earn applause or ward the criti… And surely now old customs should…

The times still “grow to something… We rap and turn the tables; We fire our guns at awful range; We lay Atlantic cables; We bore the hills, we bridge the s…

Three attorneys came sailing down… Down Chancery Lane e’er the court… They thought of the leaders they o… But the Junior Bar, oh, they thou… For serjeants get work and Q.C.'s…

Sleep, little baby, sleep, love, s… Evening is coming, and night is ni… Under the lattice the little birds… All will be sleeping by and by. Sleep, little baby, sleep.