Oh, bring again my heart's content, Thou Spirit of the Summer-time!
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods, And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt, And night by night the monitory blast Wails in the key-… - William Allingham
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods, And day by day the dead leaves fall and melt, And night by night the monitory blast Wails in the key-…
- William Allingham
Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose, A bright yellow primrose blowing in the spring! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The … - William Allingham
Ring-ting! I wish I were a primrose, A bright yellow primrose blowing in the spring! The stooping boughs above me, The wandering bee to love me, The …
Oh, bring again my heart's content, Thou Spirit of the Summer-time! - William Allingham
Not like Homer would I write, Not like Dante if I might, Not like Shakespeare at his best, Not like Goethe or the rest, Like myself, however small, L… - William Allingham
Not like Homer would I write, Not like Dante if I might, Not like Shakespeare at his best, Not like Goethe or the rest, Like myself, however small, L…
I always get back to the question, is it really necessary that men should consume so much of their bodily and mental energies in the machinery of civ… - William Allingham
I always get back to the question, is it really necessary that men should consume so much of their bodily and mental energies in the machinery of civ…
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt. - William Allingham
Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.
Solitude is very sad, Too much company twice as bad. - William Allingham
Solitude is very sad, Too much company twice as bad.
Four ducks on a pond, / A grass-bank beyond, / A blue sky of spring, / White clouds on the wing: / What a little thing / To remember for years - / To… - William Allingham
Four ducks on a pond, / A grass-bank beyond, / A blue sky of spring, / White clouds on the wing: / What a little thing / To remember for years - / To…
Pluck not the wayside flower; It is the traveler's dower. - William Allingham
Pluck not the wayside flower; It is the traveler's dower.
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