The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
Thou living light that in thy rainbow huesClothest this naked world; and over SeaAnd Earth and air, and all the shapes that beIn peopled darkness of this wondrous worldThe Spirit of thy glory dost diffuse. . . truth . .…
Men of England, wherefore ploughFor the lords who lay ye low?Wherefore weave with toil and careThe rich robes your tyrants wear? Wherefore feed and clothe and save,From the cradle to the grave,Those ungrateful drones who wouldDrain your sweat—nay, drink your…
I.Thy country’s curse is on thee, darkest crestOf that foul, knotted, many-headed wormWhich rends our Mother’s bosom—Priestly Pest!Masked Resurrection of a buried Form! II.Thy country’s curse is on thee! Justice sold,Truth trampled, Nature’s landmarks overthrown,And heaps of fraud-accumulated gold,Plead, loud…
I.Thou art fair, and few are fairerOf the Nymphs of earth or ocean;They are robes that fit the wearer—Those soft limbs of thine, whose motionEver falls and shifts and glancesAs the life within them dances. II.Thy deep eyes, a double…
I.Mine eyes were dim with tears unshed; Yes, I was firm—thus wert not thou;—My baffled looks did fear yet dread To meet thy looks—I could not knowHow anxiously they sought to shineWith soothing pity upon mine.II.To sit and curb the…
I.Maiden, quench the glare of sorrowStruggling in thine haggard eye:Firmness dare to borrowFrom the wreck of destiny;For the ray morn’s bloom revealingCan never boast so bright an hueAs that which mocks concealing,And sheds its loveliest light on you. II.Yet is…
My dearest Mary, wherefore hast thou gone,And left me in this dreary world alone?Thy form is here indeed—a lovely one—But thou art fled, gone down the dreary road,That leads to Sorrow’s most obscure abode;Thou sittest on the hearth of pale…
The world is dreary,And I’m wearyOf wandering on without thee, Mary;A joy was erewhileIn thy voice and thy smile,And ’tis gone, when I should be gone too, Mary.
O Mary dear, that you were hereWith your brown eyes bright and clear.And your sweet voice, like a birdSinging love to its lone mateIn the ivy bower disconsolate;Voice the sweetest ever heard!And your brow more…Than the skyOf this azure Italy.Mary…
I.Now the last day of many days,All beautiful and bright as thou,The loveliest and the last, is dead,Rise, Memory, and write its praise!Up,—to thy wonted work! come, traceThe epitaph of glory fled,—For now the Earth has changed its face,A frown…