The winter is upon us, not the sno… The hills are etched on the horizo… The skies are iron grey, a bitter… The meagre cloudlets shudder to an… One yellow leaf the listless wind…

It fell about the Martinmas, When the wind blew shrill and caul… Said Edom o’ Gordon to his men,— ‘We maun draw to a hald. ’And whatna hald shall we draw to,

Down Deeside cam Inveraye Whistlin’ and playing, An’ called loud at Brackley gate Ere the day dawning— ‘Come, Gordon of Brackley.

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,

Clavers and his Highlandmen Came down upo’ the raw, man, Who being stout, gave mony a clout… The lads began to claw then. With sword and terge into their ha…

We built a castle in the air, In summer weather, you and I, The wind and sun were in your hair… Gold hair against a sapphire sky: When Autumn came, with leaves tha…

False Sir John a wooing came To a maid of beauty fair; May Colven was this lady’s name, Her father’s only heir. He wood her butt, he wood her ben,

Of all the lords in faire Scotlan… A song I will begin: Amongst them all dwelled a lord Which was the unthrifty Lord of L… His father and mother were dead hi…

‘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,

“It is told of the last Lovers wh… forest, before men brought the tid… they beheld no Fairies, nor Dwarf… Venus herself, who bade them ‘make… for’ said she, ‘I shall live no mo…

I would my days had been in other… A moment in the long unnumbered ye… That knew the sway of Horus and o… In peaceful lands that border on t… I would my days had been in other…

The incident is from the Love Sto… The daughter of the Lesbian king Within her bower she watched the w… Far off she heard the arrows ring, The smitten harness ring afar;

Down by yon garden green, Sae merrily as she gaes; She has twa weel-made feet, And she trips upon her taes. She has twa weel-made feet;

Some speak of lords, some speak of… And sic like men of high degree; Of a gentleman I sing a sang, Some time call’d Laird of Gilnock… The king he writes a loving letter…

Of all the maids of fair Scotland… The fairest was Marjorie; And young Benjie was her ae true… And a dear true love was he. And wow but they were lovers dear,