I remember, I remember how my childhood fleeted by. The mirth of its December, and the warmth of its July.
Twelve years ago I made a mock Of filthy trades and traffics; I considered what they meant by stock; I wrote delightful sapphics; I knew the streets … - Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Twelve years ago I made a mock Of filthy trades and traffics; I considered what they meant by stock; I wrote delightful sapphics; I knew the streets …
- Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Still and pale Thou movest in thy silver veil, Queen of the night! the filmy shroud Of many a mild, transparent cloud Hides, yet adorns thee. - Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Still and pale Thou movest in thy silver veil, Queen of the night! the filmy shroud Of many a mild, transparent cloud Hides, yet adorns thee.
Dame Fortune is a fickle gipsy, And always blind, and often tipsy; Sometimes for years and years together, She 'll bless you with the sunniest weathe… - Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Dame Fortune is a fickle gipsy, And always blind, and often tipsy; Sometimes for years and years together, She 'll bless you with the sunniest weathe…
Of science and logic he chatters, As fine and as fast as he can; Though I am no judge of such matters, I'm sure he's a talented man. - Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Of science and logic he chatters, As fine and as fast as he can; Though I am no judge of such matters, I'm sure he's a talented man.
And oh! I shall find how, day by day, All thoughts and things look older; How the laugh of pleasure grows less gay, And the heart of friendship colde… - Winthrop Mackworth Praed
And oh! I shall find how, day by day, All thoughts and things look older; How the laugh of pleasure grows less gay, And the heart of friendship colde…
Woman! thou loveliest gift that here below Man can receive, or Providence bestow. - Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Woman! thou loveliest gift that here below Man can receive, or Providence bestow.
Hail, blest Confusion! here are met All tongues, and times, and faces; The Lancers flirt with Juliet, The Brahmin talks of races. - Winthrop Mackworth Praed
Hail, blest Confusion! here are met All tongues, and times, and faces; The Lancers flirt with Juliet, The Brahmin talks of races.
I think, whatever mortals crave, With impotent endeavor, A wreath--a rank--a throne--a grave-- The world goes round forever; I think that life is not… - Winthrop Mackworth Praed
I think, whatever mortals crave, With impotent endeavor, A wreath--a rank--a throne--a grave-- The world goes round forever; I think that life is not…
I think while zealots fast and frown, And fight for two or seven, That there are fifty roads to town, And rather more to Heaven. - Winthrop Mackworth Praed
I think while zealots fast and frown, And fight for two or seven, That there are fifty roads to town, And rather more to Heaven.
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