The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
Had I but plenty of money, money enough and to spare,The house for me, no doubt, were a house in the city-square;Ah, such a life, such a life, as one leads at the window there! Something to see, by Bacchus,…
Overhead the tree-tops meet,Flowers and grass spring ‘neath one’s feet;There was nought above me, and nought below,My childhood had not learned to know:For what are the voices of birds—Ay, and of beasts,—but words—our words,Only so much more sweet?The knowledge of…
I. Said Abner, “At last thou art come! Ere I tell, ere thou speak,“Kiss my cheek, wish me well!” Then I wished it, and did kiss his cheek.And he, “Since the King, O my friend, for thy countenance sent,“Neither drunken…
“As certain also of your own poets have said”—(Acts 17.28) Cleon the poet (from the sprinkled isles,Lily on lily, that o’erlace the seaAnd laugh their pride when the light wave lisps “Greece”)—To Protus in his Tyranny: much health! They give…
I. The morn when first it thunders in March,The eel in the pond gives a leap, they say:As I leaned and looked over the aloed archOf the villa-gate this warm March day,No flash snapped, no dumb thunder rolledIn the valley…
I. All I believed is true!I am able yetAll I want, to getBy a method as strange as new:Dare I trust the same to you? II. If at night, when doors are shut,And the wood-worm picks,And the death-watch ticks,And the…
I. Nay but you, who do not love her,Is she not pure gold, my mistress?Holds earth aught—speak truth—above her?Aught like this tress, see, and this tress,And this last fairest tress of all,So fair, see, ere I let it fall? II.…
O God, where does this tend—these struggling aims?What would I have? What is this ‘sleep’, which seemsTo bound all? can there be a ‘waking’ pointOf crowning life? The soul would never rule—It would be first in all things—it would haveIts…
I. My heart sank with our Claret-flask,Just now, beneath the heavy sedgesThat serve this Pond’s black face for maskAnd still at yonder broken edgesO’ the hole, where up the bubbles glisten,After my heart I look and listen. II. Our laughing…
That second time they hunted meFrom hill to plain, from shore to sea,And Austria, hounding far and wideHer blood-hounds thro’ the country-side,Breathed hot and instant on my trace,—I made six days a hiding-placeOf that dry green old aqueductWhere I and…