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Although I enter not, / Yet round about the spot …
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Beside the old hall-fire—upon my nurse’s knee, / Of happy fairy days—what tales were told to me! …
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There were three sailors of Bristol City / Who took a boat and went to sea, …
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Riding from Coleraine / (Famed for lovely Kitty), …
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Werther had a love for Charlotte / Such as words could never utter; …
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Ho! pretty page, with the dimpled chin, / That never has known the barber’s shear, …
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A Street there is in Paris famous, / For which no rhyme our language yields, …
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In tattered old slippers that toast at the bars, / And a ragged old jacket perfumed with cigars, …
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The Play is done,—the curtain drops, / Slow falling to the prompter’s bell; …
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Christmas is here; / Winds whistle shrill, …