“Is idleness indeed so black a crime?What are the Busy doing, half their time?”
William Allingham“Is idleness indeed so black a crime?What are the Busy doing, half their time?”
William Allingham, Blackberries“Up the airy mountain,Down the rushy glen,We daren't go a-huntingFor fear of little men.”
William Allingham, The Fairies: A Poem“By the craggy hill-side,Through the mosses bare,They have planted thorn-treesFor pleasure here and there.If any man so daringAs dig them up in spite,He shall find their sharpest thornsIn his bed at night.”
William Allingham, The Fairies: A Poem“Now Autumn's fire burns slowly along the woods and day by day the dead leaves fall and melt.”
William Allingham, Day and night songs