The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
O that a week could be an age, and we Felt parting and warm meeting every week, Then one poor year a thousand years would be, The flush of welcome ever on the cheek: So could we live long life…
‘ Dark eyes are dearer far Than those that mock the hyacinthine bell.’ By J. H. Reynolds. Blue! ‘Tis the life of heaven,–the domain Of Cynthia,–the wide palace of the sun,– The tent of Hesperus and all his train,– The…
O Thou whose face hath felt the Winter’s wind, Whose eye has seen the snow-clouds hung in mist, And the black elm tops ’mong the freezing stars, To thee the spring will be a harvest-time. O thou, whose only book…
FRAGMENT “Under the flag Of each his faction, they to battle bring Their embryo atoms.” Milton Welcome joy, and welcome sorrow, Lethe’s weed, and Hermes’ feather, Come to-day, and come to-morrow, I do love you both together! I love to…
Spirit here that reignest! Spirit here that painest! Spirit here that burneth! Spirit here that mourneth! Spirit! I bow My forehead low, Enshaded with thy pinions! Spirit! I look All passion struck, Into thy pale dominions! Spirit here that laughest!…
Spenser! a jealous honourer of thine, A forester deep in thy midmost trees, Did last eve ask my promise to refine Some English that might strive thine ear to please. But, Elfin Poet, ‘tis impossible For an inhabitant of wintry…
Son of the old Moon-mountains African! Chief of the Pyramid and Crocodile! We call thee fruitful, and that very while A desert fills our seeing’s inward span: Nurse of swart nations since the world began, Art thou so fruitful? or…
TO A FRIEND No! those days are gone away And their hours are old and gray, And their minutes buried all Under the down-trodden pall Of the leaves of many years: Many times have winter’s shears, Frozen North, and…
Souls of Poets dead and gone, What Elysium have ye known, Happy field or mossy cavern, Choicer than the Mermaid Tavern? Have ye tippled drink more fine Than mine host’s Canary wine? Or are fruits of Paradise Sweeter than those…
O golden-tongued Romance with serene lute! Fair plumed Syren! Queen of far away! Leave melodizing on this wintry day, Shut up thine olden pages, and be mute: Adieu! for once again the fierce dispute, Betwixt damnation and impassion’d clay Must…