When the weary night is fled, And the morning sky is red, Then my heart doth rise and say, ‘Surely she will come to-day.’ In the golden blaze of noon,

Never was sun so bright before, No matin of the lark so sweet, No grass so green beneath my feet, Nor with such dewdrops jewelled o’… I stand with thee outside the door…

I made a truce last night with So… The queen of tears, the foe of sle… To keep her tents until the morrow… Nor send such dreams to make me we… Before the lusty day was springing…

Last night, when at parting Awhile we did stand, Suddenly starting, There fell on my hand Something that burned it,

Oh for the nights when we used to… In the firelight’s glow or flicker… With the gas turned low and our pi… And the air fast growing thicker; When you, enthroned in the big arm…

I had a plant which would not thri… Although I watered it with care, I could not save the blossoms fair… Nor even keep the leaves alive. I strove till it was vain to striv…

Two old St. Andrews men, after a separation of nearly thirty years, meet by chance at a wayside inn. They interchange experiences; and at length one of them, who is an admirer of Mr. Sw...

[After Wordsworth.] It was a phantom of delight When first it gleamed upon my sigh… A scholarly distinction, sent To be a student’s ornament.

O Love, thine empire is not dead, Nor will we let thy worship go, Although thine early flush be fled… Thine ardent eyes more faintly glo… And thy light wings be fallen slow

How often have the critics, traine… To look upon the sky Through telescopes securely chaine… Forgot the naked eye. Within the compass of their glass

For thee the birds shall never sin… Nor fresh green leaves come out up… The brook shall no more murmur the… For thee. Thou liest underneath the windswep…

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.

Long since I came into the school… A child in works, but not a child… Slowly I learn, by her instructio… To be in works a man, in heart a c…

Crimson and cream and white - My room is a garden of roses! Centre and left and right, Three several splendid posies. As the sender is, they are sweet,

Of our own will we are not free, When freedom lies within our power… We wait for some decisive hour, To rise and take our liberty. Still we delay, content to be