#English
I made a little funeral pyre, And on it laid my youthful rhymes, Those thoughts of innocent desire, Dear foolish words of childhood ti… Poor things they were, misspelt an…
A little white Cloud loved the Mo… She hung in the sky all day, And gazed with rather a timid smil… To where, beneath her full many a… The earth and the loved one lay.
In the bowl of a shell Sings the wonderful song of the se… All the ebb and the swell, In the bowl of a shell. In the heart; of a pool
The hillside green with bracken. And the red plough land, The brownish hurrying rivers, Where the willows stand. The thickets and the meadows.
I have chosen a hill very solemn a… To shelter me. I have chosen a home very humble a… Where I would be. I have chosen a wind very fragrant…
Come, put yer little hand in mine. And let it be at rest. It minds me of a tired bird Within a warm brown nest ; And bend that pretty head o’ your’…
If at some future day we two shoul… Stand face to face before the star… And pull from Love’s dead form th… That time has wound about from hea… I scarcely know what words would c…
Oh! come to London, young lad, Lots is to be seen! But he said: ‘I cannot come, maid… Till the cuckoos all be dumb, maid… On the hills of green.’
Song Dear, perchance 'neath the frost a… One little golden flower is sleepi… You shall find it, for you will kn… Whither at dawn the sun goes peepi…
Oh! it’s good to be alive, man. Good to take the road and tramp. When the morning smells of meadows… And the lanes are cool and damp. And the little furry creatures
Ring on! Oh endless vesper bell! What can you know of that deep He… Upon this Earth, where men may dw… Ring on! Your calling is in vain, What holy rite can lull the pain
Oh! the wind among the trees, How it stirs their wood to song! Little whispered melodies. All the winding road along. Was there ever such a sound,
What a lonely little corpse our lo… Very cold, and very still, and ver… Yet he throbbed with passion there… And we thought his every word divi… Have we both grown old, that neith…
I BE hopin’ you remember, Now the Spring has come again, How we used to gather violets By the Uttle church at Eastnor, For we were so happy then!
Dear, give me the tips of your fin… To hold in this scented gloom, ‘ Mid the sighs of the dying roses… That steal through the breeze-swep… I would have you but lightly touch…
