The Best Fluffy Pancakes recipe you will fall in love with. Full of tips and tricks to help you make the best pancakes.
Great things are done when men and mountains meet; This is not done by jostling in the street. They said this mystery shall never cease: The priest promotes war, and the soldier peace. He has observed the golden rule Till…
Are not the joys of morning sweeter Than the joys of night? And are the vigrous joys of youth Ashamed of the light? Let age & sickness silent rob The vineyards in the night; But those who burn with vigrous…
Why art thou silent & invisible Father of jealousy Why dost thou hide thyself in clouds From every searching Eye Why darkness & obscurity In all thy words & laws That none dare eat the fruit but from The wily…
To a lovely Myrtle bound, Blossoms show’ring all around, O how sick and weary I Underneath my Myrtle lie! Why should I be bound to thee, O my lovely Myrtle-tree?
[To a lovely mirtle bound Blossoms showring all around] O how sick & weary I Underneath my mirtle lie Like to dung upon the ground Underneath my mirtle bound Why should I be bound to thee O my lovely mirtle…
Thou hast a lap full of seed, And this is a fine country. Why dost thou not cast thy seed And live in it merrily? Shall I cast it on the sand And turn it into fruitful land? For on…
Why should I care for the men of thames Or the cheating waves of charter’d streams Or shrink at the little blasts of fear That the hireling blows into my ear Tho born on the cheating banks of Thames Tho…
I feard the [roughness] fury of my wind Would blight all blossoms fair & true And my sun it shind & shind And my wind it never blew But a blossom fair or true Was not found on any tree…
O lapwing! thou fliest around the heath, Nor seest the net that is spread beneath. Why dost thou not fly among the corn fields? They cannot spread nets where a harvest yields.
Silent Silent NightQuench the holy lightOf thy torches brightFor possessd of DayThousand spirits strayThat sweet joys betrayWhy should joys be sweetUsed with deceitNor with sorrows meetBut an honest joyDoes itself destroyFor a harlot coy