cambridge - Popular Poems and stories from category

While an intrinsic ardor prompts to write,
The muses promise to assist my pen;'Twas not long since I left my native
The land of errors, and Egyptian gloom:
Father of mercy, 'twas thy gracious

I
AN out in the morning, when the air was clean and new,
And all the grass was glittering and grey with autumn dew,
I ran out to the apple tree and pulled an apple down,

This place is always a little lonely
At the noise and life;
I like solitude,
But not in places