One day there fell in great Benar… A wondrous plate of gold, whereon… ‘To him who loveth best, a gift fr… Thereat. The priests made proclamation: 'A…

It is a lofty feeling, yet a kind, Thus to be topped with leaves;—to… Of honour-shaded thought,—an influ… As from great nature’s fingers, an… With her old, sacred, verdurous iv…

It was the pleasant season yet, When the stones at cottage doors Dry quickly, while the roads are w… After the silver showers. The green leaves they looked green…

Amazing monster! that, for aught… With the first sight of thee didst… For ever stare! O flat and shocki… Grimly divided from the breast bel… Thou that on dry land horribly dos…

Jenny kiss’d me when we met, Jumping from the chair she sat in; Time, you thief, who love to get Sweets into your list, put that in… Say I’m weary, say I’m sad,

King Francis was a hearty king, a… And one day as his lions fought, s… The nobles filled the benches, and… And 'mongst them sat the Count de… And truly ’twas a gallant thing to…

’Tis well you think me truly one o… Whose sense discerns the lovelines… For surely as I feel the bird tha… Behind the leaves, or dawn as it u… Or the rich bee rejoicing as he go…

Open the window, and let the air Freshly blow upon face and hair, And fill the room, as it fills the… With the breath of the rain’s swee… Hark! the burthen, swift and prone…

We, the Fairies, blithe and antic… Of dimensions not gigantic, Though the moonshine mostly keep u… Oft in orchards frisk and peep us. Stolen sweets are always sweeter,

Green little vaulter in the sunny… Catching your heart up at the feel… Sole voice that’s heard amidst the… When even the bees lag at the summ… And you, warm little housekeeper,…

SLEEP breathes at last from out… My little patient boy; And balmy rest about thee Smooths off the day’s annoy. I sit me down, and think

You strange, astonished-looking, a… Dreary-mouthed, gaping wretches of… Gulping salt-water everlastingly, Cold-blooded, though with red your… And mute, though dwellers in the r…

Robin Hood’s mother, these twelve… Has been gone from her earthly hom… And Robin has paid, he scarce kne… A sum for a noble tomb. The church-yard lies on a woody hi…

Death is a road our dearest friend… Why with such leaders, fear to say… Its gate repels, lest it too soon… But turns in balm on the immortal… Mothers have passed it: fathers, c…

The moist and quiet morn was scarc… When Ariadne in her bower was wak… Her eyelids still were closing, an… But indistinctly yet a little bird… That in the leaves o’erhead, waiti…