The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
Thy face is a still white house of holy things,Graced with the quiet glory of thy hair.Upon thy perfect forehead the sweet airHath laid her beauty where girlhood clings.Thine eyes are quivering celestial springsOf naked immortality, and thereGod hath Hope,…
This love of ours, you of my heart, is no light thing; For I have seen it in the east and in the west, And I have found it in the cloud and in the clear. Are you not…
I have looked upon thee—and I have loved thee, Loved thy mouth, whose curve is the moon’s young crescent, Loved thy beauty-blossoming eyes, and eyelids Petal-like, perfect; I would brush the dew in a flashing rainbow From…
Only thou livest. Centuries wheel and pass,And generations wither into dust;Royalty is the vulgar food of rust,Valor and fame, their days be as the grass;What of today? vanitas, vanitas…These treasures of rare love and costing lustShall the tomorrow reckon mold…
Stand forth,John Keats! On earth thou knew’st me not; Steadfast through all the storms of passion,thou, True to thy muse,and virgin to thy vow; Resigned, if name with ashes were forgot,So thou one arrow in the gold had’st shot!I…
Great Dante stands in Florence, looking downIn marble on the centuries. Ye spell,Beaneath his feet who walked in Heaven and Hell,“L Italia.” Here no longer lord and clownCringe, as of yore, to the immortal frownOf him who loved his Italy…
Kind is his mouth and smiling are his eyes,Who rideth on that sunny pilgrimage,And tears and laughter be his golden wage,And that sweet carolling which never dies.O Pilgrim of green springtide and blue skies,Thy heart is dear to men of…
Night shall eat these girls and boys.Time makes his meal of thee and me.Love a broken doll shall be;the moon and sun like tired toys (with all whereat joined hearts rejoice)shall drop softly into the sea.Night shall eat these girls…
A clan of imps—morose and ugly things, Brown-bodies,evil-headed,slayers all,—Has climbed the shuddering air with embryo wings And from my porch’s beam slowly let fallWith toil unspeakable,a fairy ball,A palace hung in either! Fine as cloth Moon-spun…
A thin, foul scattering of grim, grey snow, Reaching out scrawny limbs, deep digs its nails Into the bleeding face of suppliant earth,And grins with all its broken, yellow teeth. A warm, serene, soft heaven gazes downWith dreamy eyes…