#EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters #XIXCentury #1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics
I LIKE the darling critics—like? O, how upon their work I linger, When they their weapons use to str… Not me, but some less happy singer… The treasure of their venom-bags
WOULD I could waken numbers, br… Than is the lark’s song in the clo… Then would I tell you in befittin… How much the Seer is worthy of yo… Shy, sensitive is he, and far from…
FROM all that I have seen or hea… This world, is but an empty show, And only can the heart afford What tends to bitter strife and wo… Nay in its clutch, do what we will…
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
’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,
CAN this be her? Her dark eyes… Two planets in the midnight heaven… Her cheeks the blood-dyed rose—her… The snow upon the mountains driven… Her tongue’s a silver bell to hear…
THE devil and the devil’s brood Around a boiling caldron hung, While in a nook in merry mood Grim Death a dainty ditty sung; For guided by a baleful star
ELEVEN long winters departed Since you and he sailed o’er the m… Dear, dear—I’ve been thrice broke… And thrice—but, ah, let me refrain… There was not a lassie in Plessy,
WOULD I could to freedom awaken… Half worthy the theme, then, a son… Would be echoed on high by the ser… And re-echoed on earth till with r… I would tell of the glory she give…
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…
I’M a-weary with care, I’m a-wear… Surrounded with woes that no morta… Whil’st I gaze on the night of my… Not a star to direct my lorn soul… I’m shorn of my strength and the f…
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…
I READ in an old book the myth Of the Hellenian damsel with The magic needle, when there fell On me a power—a mystic spell— I could not well to others tell.
I MIGHT have wish’s it otherwis… But yet, poor heart, tho’ they wer… Those thunder-clouds above her eye… They very much became the jewel! Hope fled, but Truth remains, and…
I THANK my God I ever lived to… When the spirit’s immortality to m… Not by a logic might be made some… But by a flash of inner light too… Long, long can death, be death ind…