'T was ever thus from childhood's hour! My fondest hopes would not decay: I never loved a tree or flower Which was the first to fade away.

The farmer's daughter hath soft brown hair (Butter and eggs and a pound of cheese) And I met with a ballad, I can't say where, That wholly consisted of lines l…

Forever; 't is a single word! Our rude forefathers deemed it two: Can you imagine so absurd A view?

O my own, my beautiful, my blue-eyed! To be young once more and bite my thumb At the world and all its cares with you, I'd Give no inconsiderable sum.