Here, where the thoroughfares meet… Of ninety degrees (this angle is r… You may hear the loafers that jest… Through the sun-lit day and the la… Though day be dreary and night be…

Fain would I shake thee off, but… Thy strong solicitations to withst… Plenty of work lies ready to my ha… Which rests irresolute, and lets i… How can I work, when that seducti…

This is the time when larks are si… And higher still ascending and mor… This is the time when many a fleec… Runs lamb-like on the pastures of… This is the time when most I love…

Artemis! thou fairest Of the maids that be In divine Olympus, Hail! Hail to thee! To thee I bring this woven weed

Oh, who may this dead warrior be That to his grave they bring? ’Tis William, Duke of Normandy, The conqueror and king. Across the sea, with fire and swor…

Where she sleeps, no moonlight shi… No pale beam unbidden creeps. Darkest shade the place enshrines Where she sleeps. Like a diamond in the deeps

Another day let slip! Its hours h… Its golden hours, with prodigal ex… All run to waste. A day of life t… Of many wasted days, alas, but one… Through my west window streams the…

There was a time when it was count… To be a patriot—whether by the zea… Of peaceful labour for the country… Or by the courage in her cause to… FOR KING AND COUNTRY was a…

If a pleasant lawn there grow By the showers caressed, Where in all the seasons blow Flowers gaily dressed, Where by handfuls one may win

on returning to St. Andrews In the hard familiar horse-box I… Creeping back to old St. Andrews… Bearing bejants with their luggage… Which the porter, hot and tipless,…

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…

When we have laid aside our last e… And said farewell to one or two th… And issued from the house of life… To find a lodging in the house of… With eyes fast shut, in sunless ch…

Sorrow and sin have worked their w… For years upon your sovereign face… And yet it keeps a faded trace Of its unequalled beauty still, As ruined sanctuaries hold

The truest Liberal is he Who sees the man in each degree, Who merit in a churl can prize, And baseness in an earl despise, Yet censures baseness in a churl,

Despair is in the suns that shine, And in the rains that fall, This sad forsaken soul of mine Is weary of them all. They fall and shine on alien stree…