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/ page 60 of 465 /The Three Gossips' Wager
© Jean de La Fontaine
AS o'er their wine one day, three gossips sat,
Discoursing various pranks in pleasant chat,
Each had a loving friend, and two of these
Most clearly managed matters at their ease.
Bees
© Roland Robinson
From the hollow trees in their native home
them old fellows cut the honeycomb.
The Count Of Griers
© William Cullen Bryant
At morn the Count of Greiers before his castle stands;
He sees afar the glory that lights the mountain lands;
The horned crags are shining, and in the shade between
A pleasant Alpine valley lies beautifully green.
On The Misery Of Soldiers
© Confucius
Yellow now is all the grass;
All the days in marching pass.
On the move is every man;
Hard work, far and near, they plan.
The Child Of Earth
© Caroline Norton
I.
FAINTER her slow step falls from day to day,
Death's hand is heavy on her darkening brow;
Yet doth she fondly cling to earth, and say,
Credidimus Jovem Regnare
© James Russell Lowell
O days endeared to every Muse,
When nobody had any Views,
The Columbiad: Book II
© Joel Barlow
High o'er his world as thus Columbus gazed,
And Hesper still the changing scene emblazed,
Round all the realms increasing lustre flew,
And raised new wonders to the Patriarch's view.
Pieter Marinus
© Marjorie Lowry Christie Pickthall
So, when my time comes, send no angels down
With lutes, and harps, and foreign instruments,
To pipe old Pieter's spirit up to heaven
Past his tall namesake sturdy at his post.
No Good Deed Goes Unpunished
© Franklin Pierce Adams
There was a man in our town who said that he would share
His profits with his laborers, for that was only fair,
And people said: Oh, isnt he the shrewd and foxy gent?
It cost him next to nothing for that free advértisement!
The Corn Song
© John Greenleaf Whittier
We better love the hardy gift
Our rugged vales bestow,
To cheer us when the storm shall drift
Our harvest-fields with snow.
The Farmer's Boy - Winter
© Robert Bloomfield
If now in beaded rows drops deck the spray,
While _Phoebus_ grants a momentary ray,
Let but a cloud's broad shadow intervene,
And stiffen'd into gems the drops are seen;
And down the furrow'd oak's broad southern side
Streams of dissolving rime no longer glide.
Evangeline: Part The Second. V.
© Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
All was ended now, the hope, and the fear, and the sorrow,
All the aching of heart, the restless, unsatisfied longing,
All the dull, deep pain, and constant anguish of patience!
And, as she pressed once more the lifeless head to her bosom,
Meekly she bowed her own, and murmured, "Father, I thank thee!"
My Friend, The Parking Lot Attendant
© Charles Bukowski
he's a dandy
small moustache
usually sucking on a cigar