The Crow Wished Everything Was Black, The

Think Not Thou Canst Sigh A Sigh And Thy Maker Is Not By; Think Not Thou Canst Weep A Tear And Thy Maker Is Not Near.

Ah, Sunflower, Weary Of Time, Who Countest The Steps Of The Sun, Seeking After That Sweet Golden Clime Where The Traveller's Journey Is Done; Where The Youth Pined Away With Desire And The Pale Virgin Shrouded In Snow Arise From Their Graves, And Aspire Where My Sunflower Wishes To Go.

How Sweet I Roamed From Field To Field, And Tasted All The Summer's Pride, Till I The Prince Of Love Beheld, Who In The Sunny Beams Did Glide!

The Child's Toys And The Old Man's Reasons Are The Fruits Of Two Seasons.

I Asked A Thief To Steal Me A Peach: He Turned Up His Eyes. I Asked A Lithe Lady To Lie Her Down: Holy And Meek, She Cries. As Soon As I Went An Angel Came. He Winked At The Thief And Smiled At The Dame- And Without One Word Spoke Had A Peach From The Tree, And 'twixt Earnest And Joke Enjoyed The Lady.