’TIS little Robin Redbreast Was piping on the spray, ‘And pray, mamma, what shall we do To bring him up this way?’ Mamma into the pantry goes,

‘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…

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…

I NEVER said my verse you’d moc… Nor how you’d giggled at my gramma… You, on whom Fame her door has lo… I little mark’d your empty clamour… I merely said that when you’d call…

AH, be not vain. In yon flower-be… As rare a pearl, did I appear, As ever grew in ocean shell, To dangle at a Helen’s ear. So was I till a cruel blast

(The first two lines are old.) HEY Robin, jolly Robin, Tell me how thy lady doth? Is she laughing, is she sobbing Is she gay, or grave, or both?

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…

COME sing me the song that once… And the heart unsubdued till that… That with its red rose caused the… That long year after year without… With thy hand on my hand, and thy…

AWAY to the well lilted Annie; Away with her skiel to the well; Away to the well whistled Johnnie… The pride and delight of the dell. Sweet, sweet is the well; but ah,…

‘LOVE’S a pleasure, love’s a tre… Why the joys of love withstand?’ Alf so pleadeth, Effie heedeth And—What ails the lily-wand? Lighter grow her airs and lighter—

AH! a lovely jewel was Mary of C… And now she is cold in the clay, We think of the heart-cheering ima… As we pass down the old waggon way… Her air was a magical air, and the…

’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…

WHAT can he ail? I hear them ask And what can make his cheek so pal… Ah, that to answer were a task For which no effort could avail, To say I love were but to say

MY little boy, thy laughter Goes to my bosom core, And sends me yearning after The days that are no more. Adown my cheek is stealing

TRUTH’S words are oft so very t… And always when my lips he uses, His foes, which let us hope, are f… Declare he but the truth abuses. Thus when he spake of Ella’s tong…