O Blackbird! sing me something well: While all the neighbors shoot thee round, I keep smooth plats of fruitful ground, Where thou may'st warble, eat and dwell.

And was the day of my delight As pure and perfect as I say?

A pasty costly-made, Where quail and pigeon, lark and leveret lay, Like fossils of the rock, with golden yolks Imbedded and injellied.

The parting of a husband and wife is like the cleaving of a heart; one half will flutter here, one there.

Queen rose of the rosebud garden of girls.

A smile abroad is often a scowl at home.

And sometimes through the mirror blue The knights come riding two and two.