English

I fade, I faint, I famish, love!
I thirst, I starve—
Gewhillikins!
And all for my sweet saucy dear—
Her beef, her kisses, pies, & beer
My Stellakins!

What is poetry?
A thought of beauty—truth,
An emotion rife with ruth—
With love!
All rhythmically expressed,
Carefully groomed—exquisitely dressed.

Spring, thou wilful, changeful maid,
Venturesome, yet half afraid
King Winter to defy,
Come, with all thy airs and graces,
Perfumes sweet and flower-laces;
When he thy rare beauty faces,
He, of love, will die.

fortune hathe taken away my love
my lyves joy and my soules heaven above
fortune hathe taken thee away my princes
my worldes joy and my true fantasies misteris

fortune hathe taken thee away from mee
fortune hathe taken all by takinge thee
deade to all joyes I only lyve to woe
So ys fortune becomme my fantasies foe

In vayne my Eyes, in vayne yee waste your teares
In vayne my sightes, the smoke of my dispayres
In vayne youe searche the Earthe and heaven above
In vayne youe searche for fortune keepes my love

Holy Father, hear me;
Thou art my Defender;
Be Thou ever near me,
Loving, true, and tender.

Jesu, blessèd Master,
Lord of life and glory,
Bid the hours fly faster,
Till I kneel before Thee.

Comforter benignest,
Tabernacling in me,
Thou my need divinest:
Move me, draw me, win me.

Holy, Holy, Holy,
Come and leave me never,
Thine abode most lowly,
Only Thine for ever.

LXI

Of purpose Love chose first for to be blind,
For he with sight of that that I behold
Vanquished had been against all godly kind.
His bow your hand and truss should have unfold
And he with me to serve had been assigned.
But for he blind and reckless would him hold
And still by chance his deadly strokes bestow,
With such as see I serve and suffer woe.

There's a great big mystery
And it surely is worrying me
This diddie wa diddie
This diddie wa diddie
I wish somebody would tell me what diddie wa diddie means

The little girl about four feet four:
“Come on papa and give me some more
Of your diddie wa diddie
Your diddie wa diddie”
I wish somebody would tell me what diddie wa diddie means

I went out and walked around
Somebody yelled, said: “Look who's in town—
Mister diddie wa diddie
Mister diddie wa diddie”

When the weary at heart and the laden with sin
Have open'd to Jesus the things that have been,
When all is forgiven, for all is confess'd,
In the blood of His cross there is rest, blessèd rest.

When in struggling for right and in wrestling with wrong
The rough doubtful path seems most lonesome and long,
Ah, then like a babe by its mother caress'd
In the bosom of Jesus is rest, blessèd rest.

When the home of our childhood is shadow'd and dim
And the loved ones we clung to are gather'd to Him,

'Twas at the close of a warm summer's day,
We spread our orphan's couch in the sweet air;
And she was happy as the healthiest there;
While, with each changing posture, as she lay,
A star, that lurk'd within the whispering firs,
Look'd forth upon her, glistening tenderly;
‘How like,’ she said, ‘a mother's watchful eye,
‘That wakes and brightens, when her infant stirs!’
She loved God's world, that maiden meek and mild;
She challenged kith and kin on every hand,
Like Francis of Assisi—that dear child

O SWEET is Love, and sweet is Lack!
But is there any charm
When Lack from round the neck of Love
Drops her languid arm?

Weary, I no longer love,
Weary, no more lack;
O for a pang, that listless Loss
Might wake, and, with a playmate's voice,
Call the tired Love back!