Dancing on the hill—tops, Singing in the valleys, Laughing with the echoes, Merry little Alice. Playing games with lambkins

The hope I dreamed of was a dream… Was but a dream; and now I wake, Exceeding comfortless, and worn, a… For a dream’s sake. I hang my harp upon a tree,

Out of the church she followed the… With a lofty step and mien: His bride was like a village maid, Maude Clare was like a queen. “Son Thomas, ” his lady mother sa…

When fishes set umbrellas up If the rain—drops run, Lizards will want their parasols To shade them from the sun.

I had a love in soft south land, Beloved through April far in May; He waited on my lightest breath, And never dared to say me nay. He saddened if my cheer was sad,

A hundred, a thousand to one; even… Not a hope in the world remained: The swarming howling wretches belo… Gained and gained and gained. Skene looked at his pale young wif…

Downstairs I laugh, I sport and j… But in my solitary room above I turn my face in silence to the w… My heart is breaking for a little… Though winter frosts are done,

I nursed it in my bosom while it l… I hid it in my heart when it was d… In joy I sat alone, even so I gri… Alone and nothing said. I shut the door to face the naked…

The lily has an air, And the snowdrop a grace, And the sweetpea a way, And the heartsease a face, — Yet there’s nothing like the rose

Three sang of love together: one w… Crimson, with cheeks and bosom in… Flushed to the yellow hair and fin… And one there sang who soft and sm… Bloomed like a tinted hyacinth at…

Rosy maiden Winifred, With a milkpail on her head, Tripping through the corn, While the dew lies on the wheat In the sunny morn.

If the sun could tell us half That he hears and sees, Sometimes he would make us laugh, Sometimes make us cry: Think of all the birds that make

The lily has a smooth stalk, Will never hurt your hand; But the rose upon her briar Is lady of the land. There’s sweetness in an apple tree…