from the unpublished remains of Ed… In the oldest of our alleys, By good bejants tenanted, Once a man whose name was Wallace… William Wallace’€”reared his head…

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…

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

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

St. Andrews! not for ever thine s… Merely the shadow of a mighty name… The remnant only of an ancient fam… Which time has crumbled, as thy ro… For thou, to whom was given the ea…

Weak soul, by sense still led astr… Why wilt thou parley with the foe? He seeks to work thine overthrow, And thou, poor fool! dost point th… Hast thou forgotten many a day,

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…

My lamp is out, my task is done, And up the stair with lingering fe… I climb. The staircase clock stri… Good night, my love! good night, m… My solitary room I gain.

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,

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,

Beyond the Cheviots and the Tweed… Beyond the Firth of Forth, My memory returns at speed To Scotland and the North. For still I keep, and ever shall,

Love, when the present is become t… And dust has covered all that now… When many a fame has faded out of… And many a later fame is fading fa… If then these songs of mine might…

Fickle Summer’s fled away, Shall we see her face again? Hearken to the weeping rain, Never sunbeam greets the day. More inconstant than the May,

Lost at sea, with all on board! No one saw their sinking sail, No one heard their dying wail, Heard them calling on the Lord— Lost at sea, with all on board.

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,