The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
My soul is an enchanted boat,Which, like a sleeping swan, doth floatUpon the silver waves of thy sweet singing;And thine doth like an angel sitBeside a helm conducting it,Whilst all the winds with melody are ringing.It seems to float ever,…
I.Arethusa aroseFrom her couch of snowsIn the Acroceraunian mountains,—From cloud and from crag,With many a jag,Shepherding her bright fountains.She leapt down the rocks,With her rainbow locksStreaming among the streams;—Her steps paved with greenThe downward ravineWhich slopes to the western gleams;And…
No, Music, thou art not the ‘food of Love.’Unless Love feeds upon its own sweet self,Till it becomes all Music murmurs of.
And that I walk thus proudly crowned withalIs that ’tis my distinction; if I fall,I shall not weep out of the vital day,To-morrow dust, nor wear a dull decay.
And like a dying lady, lean and pale, Who totters forth, wrapp’d in a gauzy veil, Out of her chamber, led by the insane And feeble wanderings of her fading brain, The moon arose up in the murky East, A…
Arise, arise, arise!There is blood on the earth that denies ye bread;Be your wounds like eyesTo weep for the dead, the dead, the dead.What other grief were it just to pay?Your sons, your wives, your brethren, were they;Who said they…
Chameleons feed on light and air:Poets’ food is love and fame:If in this wide world of carePoets could but find the sameWith as little toil as they,Would they ever change their hueAs the light chameleons do,Suiting it to every ray…
I.A portal as of shadowy adamantStands yawning on the highway of the lifeWhich we all tread, a cavern huge and gaunt;Around it rages an unceasing strifeOf shadows, like the restless clouds that hauntThe gap of some cleft mountain, lifted highInto…
Alas! this is not what I thought life was.I knew that there were crimes and evil men,Misery and hate; nor did I hope to passUntouched by suffering, through the rugged glen.In mine own heart I saw as in a glassThe…
A widow bird sate mourning for her LoveUpon a wintry bough;The frozen wind crept on above,The freezing stream below.There was no leaf upon the forest bare,No flower upon the ground,And little motion in the airExcept the mill-wheel’s sound.