It was the pleasant season yet, When the stones at cottage
Dry quickly, while the roads are wet, After the silver showers
The green leaves they looked greener still, And the thrush, renewing his tune,
Shook a loud note from his glad...
Robin Hood's mother, these twelve years now, Has been gone from her earthly home;
And Robin has paid, he scarce knew how, A sum for a noble tomb
The church-yard lies on a woody hill, But open to sun and air:
It seems as if the heave...
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, Say that health and wealth have miss'd me,
Say I'm growing old, but add,...
It is a lofty feeling, yet a kind,
Thus to be topped with leaves; -- to have a sense Of honour-shaded thought,-- an influence As from great nature's fingers, and be twined With her old, sacred, verdurous ivy-bind,
As though she hallowed ...
We, the Fairies, blithe and antic,
Of dimensions not gigantic,
Though the moonshine mostly keep us,
Oft in orchards frisk and peep us
Robin and his merry men Lived just like the birds;
They had almost as many tracks as thoughts, And whistles and songs as words
Up they were with the earliest sign Of the sun's up-looking eye;
But not an archer breakfasted Till he tw...
Robin Hood is an outlaw bold Under the greenwood tree;
Bird, nor stag, nor morning air Is more at large than he
They sent against him twenty men, Who joined him laughing-eyed;
They sent against him thirty more, And they remained bes...
Abou Ben Adhem (may his tribe increase!)
Awoke one night from a deep dream of peace,
And saw, within the moonlight in his room,
Making it rich, and like a lily in bloom,
There is May in books forever;
May will part from Spenser never;
May's in Milton,
May's in Prior,
Amazing monster
that, for aught I know,
With the first sight of thee didst make our race For ever stare
O flat and shocking face,
Death is a road our dearest friends have gone;
Why with such leaders, fear to say, "Lead on
"Its gate repels, lest it too soon be tried,
But turns in balm on the immortal side
A Crown of of ivy
I submit my
To the young hand that gives it, --young, 'tis true,
But with a right, for 'tis a poet's too