An airplane has gigantic wings
But not a feather on her breast;
She only mutters when she sings
And builds a hangar for a nest.
I love to see her stop and start;
She has a little motor heart
That beats and throbs and then is still.
She wears a fan upon her bill.

No eagle flies through sun and rain
So swiftly as an airplane.
I wish she would come swooping down
Between the steeples of the town
And lift me right up off my feet
And take me high above the street,
That all the other boys might see
The little speck that would be me.

The foure Elements in Newfound-land To the Worshipful Captaine John Mason, who did wisely and worthily governe there divers yeeres.

The Aire, in Newfound-Land is wholesome, good;
The Fire, as sweet as any made of wood;
The Waters, very rich, both salt and fresh;
The Earth more rich, you know it is not lesse
Where all are good, Fire, Water, Earth, and Aire ,
What man made of these foure would not live there?

— " A HOY ! and O-ho! and it's who's for the ferry? "
— — — (The briar's in bud and the sun going down)
— " And I'll row ye so quick and I'll row ye so steady,
— — — And 'tis but a penny to Twickenham Town. "
— The ferryman's slim and the ferryman's young,
— With just a soft tang in the turn of his tongue;
And he's fresh as a pippin and brown as a berry,
— — And 'tis but a penny to Twickenham Town.

" Ahoy! and O-ho! and it's I'm for the ferry, "
— — (The briar's in bud and the sun going down)

Rosa. willen wy dansen?
Danst Rosa, danst Rosa,
Rosa, willen wy dansen?
Danst Rosa, zoet.
Rosa med haer bloemen hoed
Zy had de geld, maer wein-ing good;
Danst Rosa zoet!

Rosa, willen wy minnen? Mint Rosa, mint Rosa.
Rosa, willen wy minnen? Mint Rosa, zoet!
Rosa med haer bloemenhoed
Zy had de geld, maer weining good;
Danst Rosa zoet!
Rosa, willen wy minnen? Mint Rosa, mint Rosa.
Rosa, willen wy minnen? Mint Rosa, zoet!

Ah, you mistake me, comrades, to think that my heart is steel!
Cased in a cold endurance, nor pleasure nor pain to feel;
Cold as I am in my manner, yet over these cheeks so seared
Teardrops have fallen in torrents, thrice since my chin grew beard.

Thrice since my chin was bearded I suffered the tears to fall;
Benedict Arnold, the traitor, he was the cause of them all!
Once, when he carried Stillwater, proud of his valor, I cried;
Then, with my rage at his treason—with pity when André died.

Ah ! yesterday, d'ye know, I voun'
Tom Dumpy's cwoat an' smock-frock, down
Below the pollard out in groun';
An' zoo I slyly stole
An' took the smock-frock up, an' tack'd
The sleeves an' collar up, an' pack'd
Zome nice sharp stwones, all fresh a-crack'd
'Ithin each pocket-hole.

An' in the evenen, when he shut
Off work, an' come an' donn'd his cwoat,
Their edges gi'ed en sich a cut,
How we did stan' an' laugh!
An' when the smock-frock I'd a-zow'd
Kept back his head an' hands, he drow'd
Hizzelf about, an' teäv'd, an' blow'd,

Ah! why, because the dazzling sun
Restored my earth to joy
Have you departed, every one,
And left a desert sky?

All through the night, your glorious eyes
Were gazing down in mine,
And with a full heart's thankful sighs
I blessed that watch divine!

I was at peace, and drank your beams
As they were life to me
And revelled in my changeful dreams
Like petrel on the sea.

Thought followed thought--star followed star
Through boundless regions on,
While one sweet influence, near and far,
Thrilled through and proved us one.

a Fable imitated from Sir Roger L'Estrange

Two long had loved, and now the nymph desired
The cloak of wedlock, as the case required;
Urged that the day he wrought her to this sorrow,
He vowed that he would marry her to-morrow.
Again he swears, to shun the present storm,
That he to-morrow will that vow perform.
The morrows in their due succession came;
Impatient still on each, the pregnant dame
Urged him to keep his word, and still he swore the same.
When tired at length, and meaning no redress,
But yet the lie not caring to confess,

Ah, when I was a little boy, mama,
'bout 16 inches high
When I was a little boy, baby
'bout 16 inches high
I had a mean stepfather
lord, he didn't want me to eat a bite

I've got a mean stepfather and I
know you got a one too
I've got a mean stepfather
and I know you have one too
And my mother dead and gone
nothing in the world that she will do

Well my mother she gone
and I hope she gone to stay
Well my mother she gone
ooo lord, and I hope she gone to stay
I have a mean stepfather
he done drove me away

Ah! what time wilt thou come? when shall that crie
The Bridegroome's Comming! fil the sky?
Shall it in the Evening run
When our words and works are done?
Or will thy all-surprizing light
Break at midnight?
When either sleep, or some dark pleasure
Possesseth mad man without measure;
Or shal these early, fragrant hours
Unlock thy bowres?
And with their blush of light descry
Thy locks crown'd with eternitie;
Indeed, it is the only time
That with thy glory doth best chime,
All now are stirring, ev'ry field
Ful hymns doth yield,