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  • Darby and Joan - John Honeywood

    I
    when darby saw the setting sun,
    He swung his scythe, and home he run,
    Sat down, drank off his quart, and said,
    “My work is done, I ’ll go to bed.”
    “My work is done!” retorted Joan,
    “My work is done! your constant tone;
    But hapless woman ne...

  • Days of My Youth - George Tucker

    Days of my youth,
        Ye have glided away;
    Hairs of my youth,
        Ye are frosted and gray;
    Eyes of my youth,
        Your keen sight is no more;
    Cheeks of my youth,
        Ye are furrowed all o’er;
    Strength of my youth,
        All...