‘Your ringlets, your ringlets, That look so golden-gay, If you will give me one, but one, To kiss it night and day, The never chilling touch of Time

Come into the garden, Maud, For the black bat, night, has flow… Come into the garden, Maud, I am here at the gate alone; And the woodbine spices are wafted…

Our enemies have fall’n, have fall… The little seed they laugh’d at in… Has risen and cleft the soil, and… Of spanless girth, that lays on ev… A thousand arms and rushes to the…

You ask me, why, tho’ ill at ease, Within this region I subsist, Whose spirits falter in the mist, And languish for the purple seas. It is the land that freemen till,

How thought you that this thing co… What are those graces that could m… Who is not worth the notice of a s… To rouse the vapid devil of her ha… A speech conventional, so void of…

Dosn’t thou ‘ear my ’erse’s legs,… Proputty, proputty, proputty—that’… Proputty, proputty, proputty—Sam,… Theer’s moor sense i’ one o’ 'is l… Woä—theer’s a craw to pluck wi’ th…

That story which the bold Sir Bed… First made and latest left of all… Told, when the man was no more tha… In the white winter of his age, to… With whom he dwelt, new faces, oth…

A city clerk, but gently born and… His wife, an unknown artist’s orph… One babe was theirs, a Margaret,… They, thinking that her clear germ… Droopt in the giant-factoried city…