• Of heavenly stature, but most human smile,
      Gyved with our faults he stands,
    Truth’s white and Love’s red roses tendering us,
      Whose thorns are in his hands.

  • Robert of Sicily, brother of Pope Urbane
    And Valmond, emperor of Allemaine,
    Apparelled in magnificent attire,
    With retinue of many a knight and squire,
    On Saint John’s eve, at vespers, proudly sat
    And heard the priests chant the Magnificat.
    And as he listened o’er and o’er again
    Repeated, like a burden or refrain,
    He caught the...

  • Merrily swinging on brier and weed,
      Near to the nest of his little dame,
    Over the mountain-side or mead,
      Robert of Lincoln is telling his name:
        Bob-o’-link, bob-o’-link,
        Spink, spank, spink;
    Snug and safe is that nest of ours,
    Hidden among the summer flowers.
                    Chee, chee, chee.

    Robert of...

  • Great spirits now on earth are sojourning:
    He of the cloud, the cataract, the lake,
    Who on Helvellyn’s summit, wide awake,
    Catches his freshness from Archangel’s wing:
    He of the rose, the violet, the spring,
    The social smile, the chain for Freedom’s sake:
    And lo! whose steadfastness would never take
    A meaner sound than Raphael’s...

  • There is delight in singing, though none hear
    Beside the singer; and there is delight
    In praising, though the praiser sit alone
    And see the praised far off him, far above.
    Shakespeare is not our poet, but the world’s,
    Therefore on him no speech! and brief for thee,
    Browning! Since Chaucer was alive and hale,
    No man hath walked along our...

  •         UPON St. Michael’s Isle
            They laid him for awhile
    That he might feel the Ocean’s full embrace,
                And wedded be
                To that wide sea—
      The subject and the passion of his race.
        As Thetis, from some lovely underground
          Springing, she girds him round
            With lapping sound...

  • Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

     and never brought to mind ?

    Should auld acquaintance be forgot,

     and auld lang syne ?
    CHORUS
    For auld lang syne, my dear,...

  • 'Tis not that I design to rob

    Thee of thy birthright, gentle Bob,

    For thou art born sole heir, and single,

    Of dear Mat Prior's easy jingle;

    Nor that I mean, while thus I knit

    My thread-bare sentiments together,

    To show my genius...