Winter and summer, night and morn, I languish at this table dark; My office window has a corn– er looks into St. James’s Park. I hear the foot-guards’ bugle-horn…

Returning from the cruel fight How pale and faint appears my knig… He sees me anxious at his side; ‘Why seek, my love, your wounds to… Or deem your English girl afraid

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

I paced upon my beat With steady step and slow, All huppandownd of Ranelagh Stree… Ran’lagh St. Pimlico. While marching huppandownd

Ah! bleak and barren was the moor, Ah! loud and piercing was the stor… The cottage roof was shelter’d sur… The cottage hearth was bright and… An orphan-boy the lattice pass’d,

First I saw the white bear, then… Then I saw the camel with a hump… Then I saw the grey wolf, with mu… Then I saw the wombat waddle in t… Then I saw the elephant a-waving…

Know ye the willow-tree Whose gray leaves quiver, Whispering gloomily To yon pale river; Lady, at even-tide

Untrue to my Ulric I never could… I vow by the saints and the blesse… Since the desolate hour when we st… And your dark galley waited to car… My faith then I plighted, my love…

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,…

Where the quivering lightning flin… His arrows from out the clouds, And the howling tempest sings And whistles among the shrouds, ’Tis pleasant, ’tis pleasant to ri…

The castle towers of Bareacres ar… Where the cliffs of bonny Diddles… I stood upon the donjon keep and v… I saw the lands of Bareacres for… I stood upon the donjon keep—it is…

The night was stormy and dark, The town was shut up in sleep: Only those were abroad who were ou… Or those who’d no beds to keep. I pass’d through the lonely street…

An igstrawnary tail I vill tell y… I stood in the Court of A’Becket… Vere Mrs. Jane Roney, a vidow, I… Who charged Mary Brown with a rob… This Mary was pore and in misery…

Beneath the gold acacia buds My gentle Nora sits and broods, Far, far away in Boston woods My gentle Nora! I see the tear-drop in her e’e,