Sing me a Song of a Lad that is Gone
BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
Sing me a song of a lad that is gone, Say, could that lad be I?
Merry of soul he sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye.
Sing me a Song of a Lad that is Gone
BY ROBERT LOUIS STEVENSON
Sing me a song of a lad that is gone, Say, could that lad be I?
Merry of soul he sailed on a day
Over the sea to Skye.
BY MICHAEL DONAGHY
Dearest, note how these two are alike:
This harpsicord pavane by Purcell
And the racer’s twelve-speed bike.
The Ruined MaidBY THOMAS HARDY
…
And now you’ve gay bracelets and bright feathers three!” —
“Yes: that’s how we dress when we’re ruined,” said she.
The Yellow VioletBY WILLIAM CULLEN BRYANT
When beechen buds begin to swell,
And woods the blue-bird’s warble know,
The yellow violet’s modest bell
Peeps from the last year’s leaves below.