The curtains were half drawn, the… And strewn with rushes, rosemary a… Lay thick upon the bed on which I… Where through the lattice ivy—shad… He leaned above me, thinking that…
If he would come to—day, to—day, t… O, what a day to—day would be! But now he’s away, miles and miles… From me across the sea. O little bird, flying, flying, fly…
The horses of the sea Rear a foaming crest, But the horses of the land Serve us the best. The horses of the land
Roses blushing red and white, For delight; Honeysuckle wreaths above, For love; Dim sweet—scented heliotrope,
In my Autumn garden I was fain To mourn among my scattered roses; Alas for that last rosebud which u… To Autumn’s languid sun and rain When all the world is on the wane!
Minnie and Mattie And fat little May, Out in the country, Spending a day. Such a bright day,
Too late for love, too late for jo… Too late, too late! You loiter’d on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch
Why were you born when the snow wa… You should have come to the cuckoo… Or when grapes are green in the cl… Or, at least, when lithe swallows… For their far off flying
Boats sail on the rivers, And ships sail on the seas; But clouds that sail across the sk… Are prettier far than these. There are bridges on the rivers,
Flowers preach to us if we will he… The rose saith in the dewy morn: I am most fair; Yet all my loveliness is born Upon a thorn.
My baby has a father and a mother, Rich little baby! Fatherless, motherless, I know an… Forlorn as may be: Poor little baby!
Oh roses for the flush of youth, And laurel for the perfect prime; But pluck an ivy branch for me Grown old before my time. Oh violets for the grave of youth,
A pin has a head, but has no hair; A clock has a face, but no mouth t… Needles have eyes, but they cannot… A fly has a trunk without lock or… A timepiece may lose, but cannot w…
A pocket handkerchief to hem — Oh dear, oh dear, oh dear! How many stitches it will take Before it’s done, I fear. Yet set a stitch and then a stitch…
“Too late for love, too late for j… Too late, too late! You loitered on the road too long, You trifled at the gate: The enchanted dove upon her branch