In futurity I prophesy That the earth from sleep (Grave the sentence deep) Shall arise, and seek
The daughters of Mne Seraphim led… All but the youngest; she in palen… To fade away like morning beauty f… Down by the river of Adona her so… And thus her gentle lamentation fa…
Sweet Mary, the first time she ev… Came into the ball—room among the… The young men and maidens around h… And these are the words upon every… `An Angel is here from the heaven…
HONOUR and Genius is all I ask… And I ask the Gods no more! No more! No more! [the three Phi… No more! No more!
WELCOME, 1 stranger, to this pl… Where joy doth sit on every bough, Paleness flies from every face; We reap not what we do not sow. Innocence doth like a rose
My silks and fine array, My smiles and languish’d air, By love are driv’n away; And mournful lean Despair Brings me yew to deck my grave:
Memory, hither come, And tune your merry notes; And, while upon the wind Your music floats, I’ll pore upon the stream
WHEN silver snow decks Sylvio’s… And jewel hangs at shepherd’s nose… We can abide life’s pelting storm, That makes our limbs quake, if our… Whilst Virtue is our walking-staf…
1st Vo. WANT Matches? 2nd Vo. Yes! Yes! Yes! 1st Vo. Want Matches? 2nd Vo. No! 1st Vo. Want Matches?
LOVE and harmony combine, And around our souls entwine While thy branches mix with mine, And our roots together join. Joys upon our branches sit,
Children of the future age, Reading this indignant page, Know that in a former time Love, sweet love, was thought a cr… In the age of gold,
I love to rise in a summer morn When the birds sing on every tree; The distant huntsman winds his hor… And the skylark sings with me. Oh, what sweet company!
THIS city and this country has b… To sit in state, and give forth la… With face as brown as any nut with… Good English hospitality, O then… With scarlet gowns and broad gold…
HAIL 1 Matrimony, made of Love! To thy wide gates how great a drov… On purpose to be yok’d do come; Widows and Maids and Youths also, That lightly trip on beauty’s toe,
Whether on Ida’s shady brow, Or in the chambers of the East, The chambers of the sun, that now From ancient melody have ceas’d; Whether in Heav’n ye wander fair,
