The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
A gentle story of two lovers young,Who met in innocence and died in sorrow,And of one selfish heart, whose rancour clungLike curses on them; are ye slow to borrowThe lore of truth from such a tale?Or in this world’s deserted…
To thirst and find no fill—to wail and wanderWith short unsteady steps—to pause and ponder—To feel the blood run through the veins and tingleWhere busy thought and blind sensation mingle;To nurse the image of unfelt caressesTill dim imagination just possessesThe…
Wealth and dominion fade into the massOf the great sea of human right and wrong,When once from our possession they must pass;But love, though misdirected, is amongThe things which are immortal, and surpassAll that frail stuff which will be—or which…
‘Twas dead of the night when I sate in my dwelling,One glimmering lamp was expiring and low,—Around the dark tide of the tempest was swelling,Along the wild mountains night-ravens were yelling,They bodingly presaged destruction and woe! ‘Twas then that I…
From the Greek of Moschus. Ye Dorian woods and waves, lament aloud,—Augment your tide, O streams, with fruitless tears,For the beloved Bion is no more.Let every tender herb and plant and flower,From each dejected bud and drooping bloom,Shed dews of…
From the Greek of Bion. I mourn Adonis dead—loveliest Adonis—Dead, dead Adonis—and the Loves lament.Sleep no more, Venus, wrapped in purple woof—Wake violet-stoled queen, and weave the crownOf Death,—’tis Misery calls,—for he is dead. The lovely one lies wounded in…
Where man’s profane and tainting handNature’s primaeval loveliness has marred,And some few souls of the high bliss debarredWhich else obey her powerful command;. . . mountain pilesThat load in grandeur Cambria’s emerald vales.
Ever as now with Love and Virtue’s glowMay thy unwithering soul not cease to burn,Still may thine heart with those pure thoughts o’erflowWhich force from mine such quick and warm return.
If gibbets, axes, confiscations, chains,And racks of subtle torture, if the painsOf shame, of fiery Hell’s tempestuous wave,Seen through the caverns of the shadowy grave,Hurling the damned into the murky airWhile the meek blest sit smiling; if DespairAnd Hate, the…
A shovel of his ashes tookFrom the hearth’s obscurest nook,Muttering mysteries as she went.Helen and Henry knew that GrannyWas as much afraid of Ghosts as any, And so they followed hard—But Helen clung to her brother’s arm,And her own spasm made…