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| Half a pound of sweet almonds, which will be reduced to a quarter of a pound, when shelled and blanched. An ounce of blanched bitter almonds or peach-kernels. The whites only, of six eggs. A quarter of a pound of butter. A quarter of a ... Read more of A CHEESECAKE at Home Made Cookies.ca | Informational.ca Privacy |
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Wales PoetryShort Is The Life Of ManMan's life, like any weaver's shuttle, flies, Or, like a t... May And November Sweet May, ever welcome! the palace of leaves Thy hand for... The Flowers Of Spring beautiful stanzas, from which the following translation ... Twenty Third Psalm My shepherd is the Lord above, Who ne'er will suffer me to... An Ode On The Death Of Hoel of the sixth century. He was himself a soldier, and d... My Father-land Land of the Cymry! thou art still, In rock and valley, str... The Monarchy Of Britain Sons of the Fair Isle! forget not the time, Ere spoilers h... The Vengeance Of Owain {96} Gruffydd ab Cynan, Prince of Gwynedd, or North Wales, and ... To The Lark "Sentinel of the morning light! Reveller of the... The Lily And The Rose Once I saw two flowers blossom In a garden 'neath the h... The Golden Goblet, In Imitation Of Gothe There was a king in Mon, {62} A true lover to his grave; ... That Had Been Converted Into A May-pole In The Town Of Llanidloes, In Montgomeryshire Ah! birch tree, with the verdant locks, And reckless min... The Banks Of The Dee One morning in May, when soft breezes were blowing O'er... The Circling Of The Mead Horns Fill the blue horn, the blue buffalo horn: Natural is mead... The Mountain Galloway My tried and trusty mountain steed, Of Aberteivi's hardy... The Holly Grove Sweet holly grove, that soarest A woodland fort, an armed ... The Withered Leaf Dry the leaf above the stubble, Soon 'twill fall into ... Dafydd Ap Gwilym's Address To Morfydd After She Married His Rival Too long I've loved the fickle maid, My love is turned to ... The Fairy's Song "Heavens defend me from that Welsh fairy!"--SHAKSPEARE. ... Woman Gentle Woman! thou most perfect Work of the Divine Arc... |
Under The Orchard TreeCategory: The Sentimental. Under the deep-laden boughs of the orchard Walks a maid that is fairer than all its rich fruit, And little I doubt if I stood beneath them, To which of the objects I'd offer my suit. 'Twas little I thought when I was a stripling While gazing upon the apples so sweet, I ever should see beneath the green branches An object which yet I much sooner would greet. Thy father was careful about his rich orchard, To fence well and strong lest the neighbours should stray, For now there doth, wander amid its green arbours A maiden more lovely than aught in the way; Its fruit I would leave to the one who may wish it, But her, who moves so majestic between, I'd steal from the orchard without a misgiving, And never would touch its apples so green. Next: The Banks Of The Dee Previous: My Native Cot
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