The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
Sleep, kinsman thou to death and trance And madness, thou hast forged at last A night-long Present of the PastIn which we went thro’ summer France. Hadst thou such credit with the soul? Then bring an opiate trebly strong, Drug down the blindfold sense of wrongThat…
I cannot see the features right, When on the gloom I strive to paint The face I know; the hues are faintAnd mix with hollow masks of night; Cloud-towers by ghostly masons wrought, A gulf that ever shuts and gapes, A hand that points, and palled…
I dream’d there would be Spring no more, That Nature’s ancient power was lost: The streets were black with smoke and frost,They chatter’d trifles at the door: I wander’d from the noisy town, I found a wood with thorny boughs: I took the thorns to…
When in the down I sink my head, Sleep, Death’s twin-brother, times my breath; Sleep, Death’s twin-brother, knows not Death,Nor can I dream of thee as dead: I walk as ere I walk’d forlorn, When all our path was fresh with dew, And all the bugle breezes blewReveill�e…
When on my bed the moonlight falls, I know that in thy place of rest By that broad water of the west,There comes a glory on the walls; Thy marble bright in dark appears, As slowly steals a silver flame Along the letters of…
You thought my heart too far diseased; You wonder when my fancies play To find me gay among the gay,Like one with any trifle pleased. The shade by which my life was crost, Which makes a desert in the mind, Has made me kindly with my…
Sweet soul, do with me as thou wilt; I lull a fancy trouble-tost With “Love’s too precious to be lost,A little grain shall not be spilt.” And in that solace can I sing, Till out of painful phases wrought There flutters up a happy thought,Self-balanced…
Dost thou look back on what hath been, As some divinely gifted man, Whose life in low estate beganAnd on a simple village green; Who breaks his birth’s invidious bar, And grasps the skirts of happy chance, And breasts the blows of circumstance,And grapples…
Yet pity for a horse o’er-driven, And love in which my hound has part, Can hang no weight upon my heartIn its assumptions up to heaven; And I am so much more than these, As thou, perchance, art more than I, And yet I…
Tho’ if an eye that’s downward cast Could make thee somewhat blench or fail, Then be my love an idle tale,And fading legend of the past; And thou, as one that once declined, When he was little more than boy, On some unworthy heart…