The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
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…
I.The keen stars were twinkling,And the fair moon was rising among them,Dear Jane.The guitar was tinkling,But the notes were not sweet till you sung themAgain. II.As the moon’s soft splendourO’er the faint cold starlight of HeavenIs thrown,So your voice most…
As the sunrise to the night,As the north wind to the clouds,As the earthquake’s fiery flight,Ruining mountain solitudes,Everlasting Italy,Be those hopes and fears on thee.
I.Bear witness, Erin! when thine injured isleSees summer on its verdant pastures smile,Its cornfields waving in the winds that sweepThe billowy surface of thy circling deep!Thou tree whose shadow o’er the Atlantic gavePeace, wealth and beauty, to its friendly wave,…
I love thee, Baby! for thine own sweet sake;Those azure eyes, that faintly dimpled cheek,Thy tender frame, so eloquently weak,Love in the sternest heart of hate might wake;But more when o’er thy fitful slumber bendingThy mother folds thee to her…
It is not blasphemy to hope that HeavenMore perfectly will give those nameless joysWhich throb within the pulses of the bloodAnd sweeten all that bitterness which EarthInfuses in the heaven-born soul. O thouWhose dear love gleamed upon the gloomy pathWhich…
Thy look of love has power to calm The stormiest passion of my soul;Thy gentle words are drops of balm In life’s too bitter bowl;No grief is mine, but that aloneThese choicest blessings I have known.Harriet! if all who long…
I.Madonna, wherefore hast thou sent to meSweet-basil and mignonette?Embleming love and health, which never yetIn the same wreath might be.Alas, and they are wet!Is it with thy kisses or thy tears?For never rain or dewSuch fragrance drewFrom plant or flower—the…