[The Poet describes the city and… A thousand years ago, or more, A city filled with burghers stout, And girt with ramparts round about… Stood on the rocky Dnieper shore.

Dear Lucy, you know what my wish… I hate all your Frenchified fuss: Your silly entrées and made dishes Were never intended for us. No footman in lace and in ruffles

When moonlike ore the hazure seas In soft effulgence swells, When silver jews and balmy breaze Bend down the Lily’s bells; When calm and deap, the rosy sleep

When the moonlight’s on the mounta… And the gloom is on the glen, At the cross beside the fountain There is one will meet thee then. At the cross beside the fountain;

‘Quand vous serez bien vielle, le… Assise aupres du feu devisant et f… Direz, chantant mes vers en vous e… Ronsard m’a celebre du temps que j… Some winter night, shut snugly in

Wearied arm and broken sword Wage in vain the desperate fight: Round him press a countless horde, He is but a single knight. Hark! a cry of triumph shrill

Little KITTY LORIMER, Fair, and young, and witty, What has brought your ladyship Rambling to the City? All the Stags in Capel Court

Beside the old hall-fire—upon my n… Of happy fairy days—what tales wer… I thought the world was once—all p… And my heart would beat to hear—th… And many a quiet night,—in slumber…

You’ve all heard of Larry O’Tool… Of the beautiful town of Drumgool… He had but one eye, To ogle ye by— Oh, murther, but that was a jew’l!

Come to the greenwood tree, Come where the dark woods be, Dearest, O come with me! Let us rove—O my love—O my love! Come—'tis the moonlight hour,

How spake of old the Royal Seer? (His text is one I love to treat… This life of ours he said is sheer Mataiotes Mataioteton. O Student of this gilded Book,

Part I. At Paris, hard by the Maine barri… Whoever will choose to repair, Midst a dozen of wooden-legged war… May haply fall in with old Pierre…

No more, thou lithe and long-winge… No more across the sultry sands sh… Blunt idle talons, idle beak, with… Shatter against thy cage the wing… Long, sitting by their watchfires,…

WERTHER had a love for Charlot… Such as words could never utter; Would you know how first he met he… She was cutting bread and butter. Charlotte was a married lady,

‘I am Miss Catherine’s book,' the… ‘I’ve lain among your tomes these… I’m tired of their old coats and y… ‘Quick, Pen! and write a line wit… Come! draw me off a funny little f…