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…
“Sweet, thou art pale.” “More pale to see, Christ hung upon the cruel tree And bore His Father’s wrath for m… “Sweet, thou art sad.”
A city plum is not a plum; A dumb—bell is no bell, though dum… A party rat is not a rat; A sailor’s cat is not a cat; A soldier’s frog is not a frog;
Mother shake the cherry—tree, Susan catch a cherry; Oh how funny that will be, Let’s be merry! One for brother, one for sister,
Lie a—bed, Sleepy head, Shut up eyes, bo—peep; Till daybreak Never wake: —
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…
O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Shine, be increased; O Lady Moon, your horns point tow… Wane, be at rest.
Where were you last night? I watc… I went down early, I stayed down… Were you snug at home, I should l… Or were you in the coppice wheedli… She’s a fine girl, with a fine cle…
I loved my love from green of Spr… Until sere Autumn’s fall; But now that leaves are withering How should one love at all? One heart’s too small
I would not if I could undo my pa… Tho’ for its sake my future is a b… My past, for which I have myself… For all its faults and follies fir… I would not cast anew the lot once…
Jess and Jill are pretty girls, Plump and well to do, In a cloud of windy curls: Yet I know who Loves me more than curls or pearls…
Your hands lie open in the long fr… The finger—points look through lik… Your eyes smile peace. The pastur… ‘Neath billowing skies that scatte… All round our nest, far as the eye…
I nursed it in my bosom while it l… I hid it in my heart when it was d… In joy I sat alone, even so I gri… Alone and nothing said. I shut the door to face the naked…
What can lambkins do All the keen night through? Nestle by their woolly mother The careful ewe. What can nestlings do
When a mounting skylark sings In the sunlit summer morn, I know that heaven is up on high, And on earth are fields of corn. But when a nightingale sings