Come with me, under my coat, And we will drink our fill Of the milk of the white goat, Or wine, if it be thy will; And we will talk until

Every Sunday there’s a throng Of pretty girls, who trot along In a pious, breathless state (They are nearly always late) To the Chapel, where they pray

An old man sat beneath a tree Alone; So still was he That, if he had been carved in sto… He could not be

To-day i felt as poor O’Brien did When, turning from all else that w… He took himself to that which was… —He took him to his verse—for othe… And (tho’ man will crave and seek)

I saw the Devil walking down the… Behind our house., There was a he… Strapped tightly on his shoulders,… Sizzled when it hit him. He pi… Up from the ground and put it in h…

There was a giant by the Orchard… Peeping about on this side and on… And feeling in the trees: he was a… As the big apple tree, and twice a… His beard was long, and bristly-bl…

In the winter time we go Walking in the fields of snow; Where there is no grass at all; Where the top of every wall, Every fence, and every tree,

It was night time! God, the Fathe… Weary of praises, on a sudden stoo… From His great Throne, and leaned… For He had heard a sound; a littl… Thin as a whisper, climbing up the…

I was frightened, for a wind Crept along the grass to say Something that was in my mind Yesterday— Something that I did not know

And then I wakened up in such a f… I thought I heard a movement in t… But did not dare to look; I snugg… Down underneath the bedclothes—the… Of a tremendous voice said, ‘Sit…

The night was creeping on the grou… She crept and did not make a sound Until she reached the tree, and th… She covered it, and sole again Along the grass beside the wall.

I hear a sudden cry of pain! There is a rabbit in a snare: Now I hear the cry again, But I cannot tell from where. But I cannot tell from where

The sun is always in the sky Whenever I get out of bed, And I often wonder why It’s never late.—My sister said She did not know who did the trick…

Come from your bed my drowsy gentl… And you, fair lady, rise and braid… And let the children wash, if wash… If not, assist you them, and make… As is the morning and the morning…