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His Wife And Baby
© Isabella Valancy Crawford
'He sings a plenty things
Just watch him wash his wings!
He says Papa will march to-day with drums home through the city.
Here, birdie, here's my cup.
You drink the milk all up;
I'll kiss you, birdie, now you're washed like baby clean and pretty.'
Book Seventh [Residence in London]
© William Wordsworth
Returned from that excursion, soon I bade
Farewell for ever to the sheltered seats
Of gowned students, quitted hall and bower,
And every comfort of that privileged ground,
Well pleased to pitch a vagrant tent among
The unfenced regions of society.
The Family Party
© Edgar Albert Guest
I SING the family party that once we used to know,
The old time family parties we gave so long ago,
An Empty Nest
© James Whitcomb Riley
I find an old deserted nest,
Half-hidden in the underbrush:
A withered leaf, in phantom jest,
Has nestled in it like a thrush
With weary, palpitating breast.
John McKeen
© James Whitcomb Riley
John McKeen, in his rusty dress,
His loosened collar, and swarthy throat,
His face unshaven, and none the less,
His hearty laugh and his wholesomeness,
And the wealth of a workman's vote!
Indian Woman's Death-Song
© Felicia Dorothea Hemans
Non, je ne puis vivre avec un coeur brisé® Il faut que je retrouve la joie, et que je m'unisse aux esprits libres de l'air.
Bride of Messina,
Madame De Stael
Let not my child be a girl, for very sad is the life of a woman.
The Prairie.
Inscription For An Eagles Foot
© John Kenyon
BROUGHT TO ENGLAND BY SIR CHARLES FELLOWS, AND NOW PART OF THE FURNITURE OF HIS LIBRARY TABLE.
MeLycia nursed amid her blaze of day;
Metamorphoses: Book The Third
© Ovid
The End of the Third Book.
Translated into English verse under the direction of
Sir Samuel Garth by John Dryden, Alexander Pope, Joseph Addison,
William Congreve and other eminent hands
Songs with Preludes: Dominion
© Jean Ingelow
I.
Yon mooréd mackerel fleet
Hangs thick as a swarm of bees,
Or a clustering village street
Foundationless built on the seas.
My Country Love
© Norman Rowland Gale
If you passed her in your city
You would call her badly dressed,
To The Men At Home
© Edgar Albert Guest
No war is won by cannon fire alone;
The soldier bears the grim and dreary role;
The Fairy West
© Henry Lawson
P.S.: I was in Yewklid the day I finished
Me edyercashun in those times dim
My younger brother cleared out to Queensland,
Twas mountains and rivers that finished him.
Memorials Of A Tour In Scotland, 1803 XII. Yarrow Unvisited
© William Wordsworth
FROM Stirling castle we had seen
The mazy Forth unravelled;
Had trod the banks of Clyde, and Tay,
And with the Tweed had travelled;
A Farewell To Youth
© Alfred Austin
Ere that I say farewell to youth, and take
The homely road that leads to life's decline,
Noey Bixler
© James Whitcomb Riley
Another hero of those youthful years
Returns, as Noey Bixler's name appears.
The nearest Dream recedesunrealized
© Emily Dickinson
The nearest Dream recedesunrealized
The Heaven we chase,
The Soldier's Funeral
© Robert Southey
O my God!
I thank thee that I am not such as these
I thank thee for the eye that sees, the heart
That feels, the voice that in these evil days
That amid evil tongues, exalts itself
And cries aloud against the iniquity.
