Alas, for us no second spring, Like mallows in the garden-bed, For these the grave has lost his s… Alas, for us no second spring, Who sleep without awakening,

O Alison Gross, that lives in yon… The ugliest witch in the north cou… She trysted me ae day up till her… And mony fair speeches she made to… She straik’d my head, and she kaim…

O I forbid you, maidens a’, That wear gowd on your hair, To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For young Tam Lin is there. There’s nane that gaes by Carterh…

Mid April seemed like some Novemb… When through the glassy waters, du… Our boat, like shadowy barques tha… Slipped down the long shores of th… Rounded a point,—and San Terenzo…

Apollo left the golden Muse And shepherded a mortal’s sheep, Theocritus of Syracuse! To mock the giant swain that woo’s The sea-nymph in the sunny deep,

Late at e’en, drinking the wine, And ere they paid the lawing, They set a combat them between, To fight it in the dawing. ‘Oh, stay at hame, my noble lord,

Between the moonlight and the fire In winter twilights long ago, What ghosts we raised for your des… To make your merry blood run slow! How old, how grave, how wise we gr…

1731 BEAUTIFUL face of a child, Lighted with laughter and glee, Mirthful, and tender, and wild, My heart is heavy for thee!

“‘Dead and gone,’—a sorry burden o… Say, fair maids, maying In gardens green, In deep dells straying, What end hath been

Still sing the mocking fairies, as… Beneath the shade of thorn and hol… The west wind breathes upon them,… And wolves still dread Diana roam… In secret woodland with her compan…

There are laddies will drive ye a… To the burn frae the farthermost t… But ye mauna think driving is a’, Ye may heel her, and send her ajee… Ye may land in the sand or the sea…

‘Why does your brand sae drop wi’… Edward, Edward? Why does your brand sae drop wi’ b… And why sae sad gang ye, O?’ ‘O I hae killed my hawk sae gude,

O May she comes, and may she goes… Down by yon gardens green, And there she spied a gallant squi… As squire had ever been. And may she comes, and may she goe…

Far in the Past I peer, and see A Child upon the Nursery floor, A Child with books upon his knee, Who asks, like Oliver, for more! The number of his years is IV,

(Sidero, the stepmother of Tyro,… At fierce Sidero’s word the thral… And shore the locks of Tyro,—like… They fell in golden harvest,—but f… The maiden shuddered in her pain a…