Of me and of my theme think what t… The song of gladness one straight… But I have never stood at Fortune… Were she and her light crew to run… At my poor holding little would be…

What may the woman labour to confe… There is about her mouth a nervous… 'Tis something to be told, or hidd… I get a glimpse of hell in this mi… She has desires of touch, as if to…

Thy greatest knew thee, Mother Ea… He knew thy sons. He probed from… Of human passions, but of love def… His wisdom was not, for he knew th… Thence came the honeyed corner at…

Though I am faithful to my loves… And place them among Memory’s gre… Where burns a face like Hesper: o… Of visages I get a moment’s view, Sweet eyes that in the heaven of m…

Yonder’s the man with his life in… Legs on the march for whatever the… Or to the slaughter, or to the mai… Getting the dole of a dog for pay. Laurels he clasps in the words ‘du…

Chillanwallah, Chillanwallah! Where our brothers fought and bled… O thy name is natural music And a dirge above the dead! Though we have not been defeated,

At dinner, she is hostess, I am h… Went the feast ever cheerfuller?… The Topic over intellectual deeps In buoyancy afloat. They see no g… With sparkling surface-eyes we ply…

She can be as wise as we, And wiser when she wishes; She can knit with cunning wit, And dress the homely dishes. She can flourish staff or pen,

What may the woman labour to confe… There is about her mouth a nervous… ’Tis something to be told, or hidd… I get a glimpse of hell in this mi… She has desires of touch, as if to…

1—I In middle age an evil thing Befell Archduchess Anne: She looked outside her wedding-rin… Upon a princely man.

[Iliad, B. XI. V. 148] These, then, he left, and away whe… Onward rushed, and with him rushed… Foot then footmen slew, that were… Horse at the horsemen (up from off…

Fair and false! No dawn will gree… Thy waking beauty as of old; The little flower beneath thy feet Is alien to thy smile so cold; The merry bird flown up to meet

The clouds are withdrawn And their thin-rippled mist, That stream’d o’er the lawn To the drowsy-eyed west. Cold and grey

Sword of Common Sense! - Our surest gift: the sacred chain Of man to man: firm earth for trus… In structures vowed to permanence:… Thou guardian issue of the harvest…

There she goes up the street with… And her Good morning, Martin! Ay… Very well, thank you, Martin!-I c… I might just as well never have co… I can’t understand it. She talks…