#AmericanWriters
‘And if your Nancy frowns, my lad… And scorns a jacket blue, Just hoist your sails for other po… And find a maid more true.’
‘Don’t drive me away, But hear what I say: Bad men want the gold; They will steal it to-night, And you must take flight;
Oft, in the silence of the night, When the lonely moon rides high, When wintry winds are whistling, And we hear the owl’s shrill cry, In the quiet, dusky chamber,
‘Bright shines the summer sun, Soft is the summer air; Gayly the wood-birds sing, Flowers are blooming fair. ’But, deep in the dark, cold rock,
In a quiet, pleasant meadow, Beneath a summer sky, Where green old trees their branch… And winds went singing by; Where a little brook went rippling
‘For myself alone, I would not be Ambitious in my wish; but, for you… I would be trebled twenty times my… A thousand times more fair, Ten thousand times more rich.’
Mysterious death! who in a single… Life’s gold can so refine And by thy art divine Change mortal weakness to immortal… Bending beneath the weight of eigh…
From our happy home Through the world we roam One week in all the year, Making winter spring With the joy we bring,
“Here’s a nut, there’s a nut; Hide it quick away, In a hole, under leaves, To eat some winter day. Acorns sweet are plenty,
‘The puir auld folk at home, ye mi… Are frail and failing sair; And weel I ken they’d miss me, la… Gin I come hame nae mair. The grist is out, the times are ha…
‘A little bird I am, Shut from the fields of air, And in my cage I sit and sing To Him who placed me there: Well pleased a prisoner to be,
We are sending you, dear flowers Forth alone to die, Where your gentle sisters may not… O’er the cold graves where you lie… But you go to bring them fadeless…
‘J’avais une colombe blanche, J’avais un blanc petit pigeon, Tous deux volaient, de branche en… Jusqu’au faîte de mon dongeon: Mais comme un coup de vent d’autom…
Love comes to all soon or late, And maketh gay or sad; For every bird will find its mate, And every lass a lad,
OPPOSITE my chamber window, On the sunny roof, at play, High above the city’s tumult, Flocks of doves sit day by day. Shining necks and snowy bosoms,