There was a time when in your face There dwelt such power, and in you… I know not what of magic grace; They held me captive for a while. Ah, then I listened for your voic…

Early on Christmas Day, Love, as awake I lay, And heard the Christmas bells rin… My heart stole through the gloom Into your silent room,

The Red King’s gone a-hunting, in… For the tall red deer to wander th… The King and Walter Tyrrel, Prin… Are all gone out upon the sport th… Last night, when they were feastin…

He brought a team from Inversnaid To play our Third Fifteen, A man whom none of us had played And very few had seen. He weighed not less than eighteen…

As through the street at eve we we… (It might be half-past ten), We fell out, my friend and I, About the cube of x+y, And made it up again.

[After Longfellow.] I drove a golf-ball into the air; It fell to earth, I knew not wher… For, so swiftly it flew, the sight Could not follow it in its flight.

After the melting of the snow Divines depart and April comes; Examinations nearer grow After the melting of the snow; The grinder wears a face of woe,

You like the trifling triolet: Well, here are three or four. Unless your likings I forget, You like the trifling triolet. Against my conscience I abet

In youth with diligence he toiled A Roman nose to gain, But though a decent pug was spoile… A pug it did remain.

Oh, will the footsteps never be do… The insolent feet Thronging the street, Forsaken now of the only one. The only one out of all the throng…

Let me sleep. The day is past, And the folded shadows keep Weary mortals safe and fast. Let me sleep. I am all too tired to weep

The lady stood at the station bar, (Three currants in a bun) And oh she was proud, as ladies ar… (And the bun was baked a week ago.… For a weekly wage she was standing…

I know the garden-close of sin, The cloying fruits, the noxious fl… I long have roamed the walks and b… Desiring what no man shall win: A secret place to shelter in,

Through many lands and over many s… I come, my Brother, to thine obse… To pay thee the last honours that… And call upon thy voiceless dust,… Since cruel fate has robbed me eve…

Song is not dead, although to-day Men tell us everything is said. There yet is something left to say… Song is not dead. While still the evening sky is red…