The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
Chief of organic Numbers! Old Scholar of the Spheres! Thy spirit never slumbers, But rolls about our ears For ever and for ever. O, what a mad endeavour Worketh he Who, to thy sacred and ennobled hearse, Would offer a…
When I have fears that I may cease to be Before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain, Before high-pilèd books, in charactery, Hold like rich garners the full ripened grain; When I behold, upon the night’s starred face, Huge…
Who loves to peer up at the morning sun, With half-shut eyes and comfortable cheek, Let him with this sweet tale full often seek For meadows where the little rivers run; Who loves to linger with that brightest one Of…
Come hither all sweet Maidens soberly Down looking aye, and with a chasten’d light Hid in the fringes of your eyelids white, And meekly let your fair hands joined be, As if so gentle that ye could not see, Untouch’d,…
1. Think not of it, sweet one, so; — Give it not a tear; Sigh thou mayst, and bid it go Any, any where. 2. Do not look so sad, sweet one, — Sad and fadingly; Shed one drop then,…
Unfelt unheard, unseen, I’ve left my little queen, Her languid arms in silver slumber lying: Ah! through their nestling touch, Who—who could tell how much There is for madness—cruel, or complying? Those faery lids how sleek! Those lips how moist!—they…
It keeps eternal whisperings around Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound. Often ’tis in such gentle temper found That scarcely will the very…
Glory and loveliness have pass’d away; For if we wander out in early morn, No wreathed incense do we see upborne Into the east, to meet the smiling day: No crowd of nymphs soft voic’d and young, and gay, In…
Haydon! Forgive me, that I cannot speak Definitively on these mighty things; Forgive me that I have not Eagle’s wings— That what I want I know not where to seek: And think that I would not be over meek In…
My spirit is too weak—mortality Weighs heavily on me like unwilling sleep, And each imagined pinnacle and steepOf godlike hardship tells me I must dieLike a sick eagle looking at the sky. Yet ’tis a gentle luxury to weep That I have not the…