But she, with calm and steadfast light,
Moves proudly through the radiant skies,
How like the tranquil moon thou art–
Thou fairest flower of womankind!
And, look, within my fluttering heart
Thy image trembling is enshrined!
Similar Posts
Come, brothers, share the fellowship
There’s grace of song on every lipAnd every heart is light!But first, before our mentor chimesThe hour of jubilee,Let’s drink a health to good old times,And good times yet to be!Clink, clink, clink!Merrily let us drink!There’s store of wealthAnd more of healthIn every glass, we think.Clink, clink, clink!To fellowship we drink!And from the bowlNo genial…
Of mornings, bright and early,
And the robin in the mapleHops from her nest to sing,From yonder cheery chamberCometh a mellow coo –‘T is the sweet, persuasive trebleOf my little Googly-Goo!The sunbeams hear his music,And they seek his little bed,And they dance their prettiest dancesRound his golden curly head:Schottisches, galops, minuets,Gavottes and waltzes, too,Dance they unto the musicOf my googling…
The day is done; and, lo! the shades
Hark, how those deep, designing maidsFeign terror in this sylvan place!Come, friends, it’s time that we should go;We’re honest married folk, you know.Was not the wine delicious coolWhose sweetness Pyrrha’s smile enhanced?And by that clear Bandusian poolHow gayly Chloe sung and danced!And Lydia Die,–aha, methinksYou’ll not forget the saucy minx!But, oh, the echoes of those…
My baby slept–how calm his rest,
Like that of angel flitted, whileHe lay so still upon my breast!My baby slept–his baby headLay all unkiss’d ‘neath pall and shroud:I did not weep or cry aloud–I only wished I, too, were dead!My baby sleeps–a tiny mound,All covered by the little flowers,Woos me in all my waking hours,Down in the quiet burying-ground.And when I…
The women-folk are like to books,–
Whereon if anybody looksHe feels disposed to buy.I hear that many are for sale,–Those that record no dates,And such editions as regaleThe view with colored plates.Of every quality and gradeAnd size they may be found,–Quite often beautifully made,As often poorly bound.Now, as for me, had I my choice,I’d choose no folio tall,But some octavo to…
Who should come up the road one day
And he whoaed his horse and he cried ‘Ahoy!I have brought you folks a bow-leg boy!Such a cute little boy!Such a funny little boy!Such a dear little bow-leg boy!’He took out his box and he opened it wide,And there was the bow-leg boy inside!And when they saw that cunning little mite,They cried in a chorus…