I sing of brooks, of blossoms, birds, and bowers: Of April, May, of June, and July flowers. I sing of Maypoles, Hock-carts, wassails, wakes, Of bridegrooms, brides, and of their bridal cakes.

Fair pledges of a fruitful tree, Why do ye fall so fast? Your date is not so past But you may stay yet here awhile To blush and gently smile, And go at last.

What is a kiss? Why this, as some approve: The sure, sweet cement, glue, and lime of love.

Here a little child I stand Heaving up my either hand. Cold as paddocks though they be, Here I lift them up to Thee, For a benison to fall On our meat, and on …

Since 1939, however, there have been no bonfires on the village greens. No fireworks gleam in the blackened parks and the streets are dark and silent. But this…

'Walimah is only in five occasions: in the 'Urs, Khurs, 'Idhar, Wikar and the Rikaz - 'Urs is when a person gets married; and Khurs is when a child is born; an…

The poetical tendency of the present and of the preceding century has been divided in a manner singularly curious. One loud and conspicuous faction of bards, g…