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…

‘O wha will shoe my fu’ fair foot? And wha will glove my hand? And wha will lace my middle jimp, Wi’ the new-made London band? ‘And wha will kaim my yellow hair,

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,

None elder city doth the Sun beho… Than ancient Lycosura; ’twas begu… Ere Zeus the meat of mortals lear… And here hath he a grove whose hau… The driven deer seek and huntsmen…

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

There was a knight and lady bright Set trysts amo the broom, The one to come at morning eav, The other at afternoon. ‘I’ll wager a wager wi’ you,' he s…

There is a Heaven, or here, or th… A Heaven there is, for me and you… Where bargains meet for purses spa… Like ours, are not so far and few. Thuanus’ bees go humming through

AH! leave the smoke, the wealth,… Of London, leave the bustling str… For still, by the Sicilian shore, The murmur of the Muse is sweet. Still, still, the suns of summer g…

Hither, come hither, ye Clouds re… Come, though ye dwell on the sacre… Or whether ye dance with the Nere… Or whether your golden urns are di… Or whether you dwell by Mæotis me…

Here be the fairest homes the land… The silvery-cliffed Colonus; alwa… The nightingale doth haunt and sin… For well the deep green gardens do… Groves of the God, where winds ma…

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,

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

Villanelle, why art thou mute? Hath the singer ceased to sing? Hath the Master lost his lute? Many a pipe and scrannel flute On the breeze their discords fling…

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,

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,