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There's always in some pocket of your brain A care for me； wherefore my gratitude1 For your attention is commensurate With your concern. Yes, Burr, we are two kings； We are as royal as two ditch-diggers； But owe2 me not your sceptre. These are the days When first a few seem all； but if we live, We may again be seen to be the few That we have always been. These are the days When men forget the stars, and are forgotten.
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力拔山兮气盖世， 时不利兮骓不逝。 骓不逝兮可奈何， 虞兮虞兮奈若何！ The Last Song I could pull down a mountain with my might， My fortune wanes1 and e'en
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i I saw a Monk1 of Charlemaine Arise before my sight： I talk'd to the Grey Monk where he stood In beams of infernal ligh
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A Fairy leapt upon my knee Singing and dancing merrily； I said， `Thou thing of patches， rings， Pins， necklaces， and such
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Why should I care for the men of Thames， Or the cheating waves of charter'd streams； Or shrink at the little blasts of f
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The modest Rose puts forth1 a thorn， The humble2 Sheep a threat'ning horn； While the Lily white shall in love delight， N
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`Love seeketh not itself to please， Nor for itself hath any care， But for another gives its ease， And builds a Heaven in
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'Twas on a Holy Thursday， their innocent faces clean， The children walking two and two， in red and blue and green， Grey-
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The Sun does arise， And make happy the skies； The merry bells ring To welcome the Spring； The skylark and thrush， The bi
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ii Anger and wrath1 my bosom2 rends3： I thought them the errors of friends. But all my limbs with warmth glow： I find th
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I arise from dreams of thee In the first sweet sleep of night， When the winds are breathing low， And the stars are shini
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