Thomas Haynes Bayly
Thomas Haynes Bayly
Thomas Haynes Baylywas an English poet, songwriter, dramatist, and miscellaneous writer...
NationalityEnglish
ProfessionWriter
flower night rose
She wore a wreath of roses, The night that first we met.
misery wealth alas
Those that have wealth must be watchful and wary, Power, alas! naught but misery brings!
dream stars moon
Fly away, pretty moth, to the shade Of the leaf where you slumbered all day; Be content with the moon and the stars, pretty moth, And make use of your wings while you may. . . . . But tho' dreams of delight may have dazzled you quite, They at last found it dangerous play; Many things in this world that look bright, pretty moth, Only dazzle to lead us astray.
music saddest
I'm saddest when I sing.
memories long-ago tales
Tell me the tales that to me were so dear, Long, long ago, long, long ago.
years land giving
O give me new figures! I can't go on dancing The same that were taught me ten seasons ago; The schoolmaster over the land is advancing, Then why is the master of dancing so slow? It is such a bore to be always caught tripping In dull uniformity year after year; Invent something new, and you'll set me a skipping: I want a new figure to dance with my Dear!
christmas wall hollies
The mistletoe hung in the castle hall, The holly branch shone on the old oak wall.
hope lonely grief
Where's the hope that can abate The grief of hearts thus desolate That can Youth's keenest pangs assuage, And mitigate the gloom of Age? Religion bids the tempest cease, And, leads her to a port of peace; And on, the lonely pilot steers Through the lapse of future years.
friendship memories caverns
Friends depart, and memory takes them To her caverns, pure and deep.
fear night pilots
Oh, pilot! 'tis a fearful night, There's danger on the deep.
fear may providence
Fear not, but trust in Providence, Wherever thou may'st be.
butterfly dying fading
I'd be a butterfly; living a rover, Dying when fair things are fading away.
flower rose praise
The rose that all are praising Is not the rose for me.
summer fading dies
Surely 't is better, when summer is over To die when all fair things are fading away.