In torrid heats of late July, In March, beneath the bitter bise… He book-hunts while the loungers f… He book-hunts, though December fr… In breeches baggy at the knees,

I went to the mill, but the miller… I sat me down, and cried ochone! To think on the days that are past… Of Dickie Macphalion that’s slain… Shoo, shoo, shoolaroo,

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…

Let others praise analysis And revel in a “cultured” style, And follow the subjective Miss From Boston to the banks of Nile, Rejoice in anti-British bile,

O waly, waly, up the bank, O waly, waly, down the brae. And waly, waly, yon burn side, Where I and my love wont to gae. I leaned my back unto an aik,

In the Morning of Time, when his… How bleak, how un-Greek, was the… From his wigwam, if ever he ventur… There was nobody waiting to welcom… For the Man had been made, but th…

‘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,

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…

ON Calais Sands the gray began, Then rosy red above they gray; The morn with many a scarlet van Leaped, and the world was glad wit… The little waves along the bay

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,

The ferox rins in rough Loch Awe, A weary cry frae ony toun; The Spey, that loups o’er linn an… They praise a’ ither streams aboon… They boast their braes o’ bonny D…

DARK Lily without blame, Not upon us the shame, Whose sires were to the Auld Alli… They, by the Maiden’s side, Victorious fought and died;

The dust of Carthage and the dust Of Babel on the desert wold, The loves of Corinth, and the lus… Orchomenos increased with gold; The town of Jason, over-bold,

There lived a king in southern lan… King Edward hight his name; Unwordily he wore the crown, Till fifty years were gane. He had a sister’s son o’s ain,

The Fays that to my christ’ning c… (For come they did, my nurses taug… They did not bring me wealth or fa… ’Tis very little that they brought… But one, the crossest of the crew,