‘You wont!’ the Rose’s accents ri… ‘I will!’ the Golden Bee’s are ri… And tho’ the winds, to aid her, sp… Soon with the breeze-tost bloom he… swinging.

IN the coal-pit, or the factory, I toil by night or day, And still to the music of labour I lilt my heart-felt lay; I lilt my heart-felt lay

A LITTLE brooklet trilled a son… As merry as the day was long, At which a music-hater stung To frenzy said: 'I’ll bind thy to… And quell thy merriment:' That…

AH me, my heart is like to break, The envied rose upon my cheek, The blood red rose is cold and ble… Since he has slighted me. A very shadow lone and pale,

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!

OLD Uncle Bob lay on the settle, At eventide, while on the hob, ‘Roe-tee-riti-too’ sang the kettle… And charmed the dear heart of old… ‘Ree-tee-riti-too’ on his ears, lo…

AT Backworth sung till echo rung, A bard whose feelings were, In what to young and old he sung Of little Dolly Dare. ‘Tho’ Lizzy’s sweet and Polly’s n…

THE fickle Moon has left the ski… But Night’s blue veil with stars… And every little twinkler tries To twinkle as he’d never twinkled. O, now’s the hour for Love to pou…

‘SAY, whither goes my buxom maid All with the coal-black e’e?’ ‘Before I answer that,’ she said, ‘Give ear, and answer me. ’Pray, hast thou e’er thy counsel…

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…

‘YOU little like the sonnet? Yo… But what are you? a creaking wicke… A cricket in the grass, allow Me, slut! to say a very cricket!— ’A chatter-box, or at the best’—

DECK’D in a many gems of morn, A daffodil without a peer, I reared my head, and treat with s… A one-pearl-gifted daisy near. That very hour, lo! wind-a-rock’d

OUR revels now are ended, so good… And each unto our chamber let us h… And there lose ourselves in vision… Again has bid adieu unto the sky. So good-bye

BACK flies my soul to other year… When thou that charming lay repeat… When smiles were only chased by te… Yet sweeter far than smiles the sw… Thy music ends, and where are they…

“A PHANTOM to me thou appeares… But spite of this seeming I know The magical image thou wearest, Is real as the lilies in blow; As real and as rare as the fairest…