The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
The Service without Hope— Is tenderest, I think— Because ’tis unsustained By stint—Rewarded Work— Has impetus of Gain— And impetus of Goal— There is no Diligence like that That knows not an Until—
The Rose did caper on her cheek— Her Bodice rose and fell— Her pretty speech—like drunken men— Did stagger pitiful— Her fingers fumbled at her work— Her needle would not go— What ailed so smart a little Maid— It puzzled…
The Robin’s my Criterion for Tune— Because I grow—where Robins do— But, were I Cuckoo born— I’d swear by him— The ode familiar—rules the Noon— The Buttercup’s, my Whim for Bloom— Because, we’re Orchard sprung— But, were I Britain born,…
The Robin is the One That interrupt the Morn With hurried—few—express Reports When March is scarcely on— The Robin is the One That overflow the Noon With her cherubic quantity— An April but begun— The Robin is the One That…
The Robin for the Crumb Returns no syllable But long records the Lady’s name In Silver Chronicle.
The Red—Blaze—is the Morning— The Violet—is Noon— The Yellow—Day—is falling— And after that—is none— But Miles of Sparks—at Evening— Reveal the Width that burned— The Territory Argent—that Never yet—consumed—
The rainbow never tells me That gust and storm are by, Yet is she more convincing Than Philosophy. My flowers turn from Forums— Yet eloquent declare What Cato couldn’t prove me Except the birds were here!
I like to see it lap the miles, And lick the valleys up, And stop to feed itself at tanks; And then, prodigious, step Around a pile of mountains, And, supercilious, peer In shanties by the sides of roads; And…
The Province of the Saved Should be the Art—To save— Through Skill obtained in Themselves— The Science of the Grave No Man can understand But He that hath endured The Dissolution—in Himself— That Man—be qualified To qualify Despair To Those…
The power to be true to You, Until upon my face The Judgment push his Picture— Presumptuous of Your Place— Of This—Could Man deprive Me— Himself—the Heaven excel— Whose invitation—Yours reduced Until it showed too small—