#1878 #ABookOfMiscellaneousLyrics #EnglishWriters #VictorianWriters
A KNIGHT right bold rode over t… Saluted maidens three: ‘Now, if each possess’d what she l… What would her portion be?’ The eldest replied: ‘A carriage o…
CRIED Ciss to the breeze, as un… She lay at her ease, one day, ‘From thy rovings cease, and a mai… Of thy doings breeze now say! ’Be it so,' sang he; 'from the wes…
(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?
LITTLE ANNA young and fair, How with heart a-dancing, I descry her image rare, O’er the footway glancing. Ah, those locks of dusky hue,
THERE’S not a may in Ellerton By half so sweet to look upon; In all the country round there’s n… So sweet as Dora Dee. The blood-red rose to passer by,
How long shall injustice prevail? How long shall the weak rue the st… The children of Poland bewail The yoke of the Russian?—How long… Lo! one generation goes by,
WHEN Day once stirs, her locks o… Up, seize, ere she is well awaken! And with her steps thy paces hold, Till she from Earth her leave hat… What tho’ upon the way she frown,
THE stars are twinkling in the sk… As to the pit I go; I think not of the sheen on high, But of the gloom below. Not rest nor peace, but toil and s…
AS I came down from Earsdon Town… A-lilting of a lay, Whom did I meet but she, the swee… The blue-eyed Lotty Hay. A crimson blush her cheek did flus…
DAME Malice reigns the Queen of… With wink and whisper, nod and cha… She trots along, and never fags, While she has scandal-seeds to sca… Then when her seeds are poison-wee…
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
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…
“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…
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
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…