#English #Victorians #XIXCentury #1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics
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…
AS ever a bard in such pitiful pl… Was ever such seen by yon stars in… A-pit or a-bed, by day and by nigh… I’m plagued by the magic of two ha… A leaf in a whirlwind, I’m sent t…
JUST let the Owl of Evil howl; To mourners of each rank and stati… Come, troll the Golden Bowl! And quaff me with a deep potation. Each sparkling droplet to the soul
AH me! my heart is like to break, The envied rose upon my cheek, The blood red rose is cold and ble… Now Robin slighteth me. Alas! a shadow lone and pale
WHEN I would laugh a little at The follies that in Life aboundet… What ails the saint I worship, th… She with a frown my spirit woundet… Is laughter sin? ah, then full wel…
THE memories of moments flown, Into my spirit’s glass assemble; And as they enter, one by one, My heart-strings into music trembl… Even as the harp, the breezelet sw…
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
LITTLE Anna, cruel elf, Spite of all my reason, She, she puts me from myself, In and out of season; Ah, the imp! ah, the shrimp!
THE DITTY. O, BECKY SHARP, dear Becky S… So very clever and so witty; I’m half inclined your praise to h… In one, at least, well-worded ditt…
DIES not the soul when dust to d… Even as we are in earth-life are w… Save from the worn-out garment ren… That may have proved a fetter to t… Not unto demons void of good conve…
SHE took the oars and rowed along With such a grace, the mere did wa… Into a sweet, melodious song, At every charming stroke was taken… And at each sound, the hills aroun…
(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?
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…
SHE took the wood thro’ which she… But in the lake near which she wen… An image met, and swayed and swung… And three times with her image ble… The vision from that mirror fled,
Misfortune is a darling, ever Most faithful to the minstrel race… Let low-bred wretches shun them, n… Yet acted she a part so base. True, oft by her the bard discover…