Here is my Garret up five flights… Here’s where I deal in dreams and… Here is the wonder—shop of all my… My sounding sonnets and my red rom… Here’s where I challenge Fate and…

A grey gull hovered overhead, Then wisely flew away. 'In half a jiffy you’ll be dead,' I thought I heard it say; As there upon the railway line,

Elisabeth imagines I’ve A yellow streak She deems I have no dash and driv… Jest dogoned weak. ‘A man should be a man,’ says Liz

Poppies, you try to tell me, glowi… Poppies! Ah no! You mock me: It’… It’s gleaming wet in the grasses;… It dabbles the ferns and the clove… It leaps to the startled heavens;…

Her baby was so full of glee, And through the day It laughed and babbled on her knee In happy play. It pulled her hair all out of curl

Give me your hand, oh little one! Like children be we two; Yet I am old, my day is done That barely breaks for you. A baby—basket hard you hold,

If the good King only knew, Lindy Lou, What a cherub child are you, It is true, He would step down from his throne…

A mattock high he swung; I watched him at his toil; With never gulp of lung He gashed the ruddy soil. Thought I, I’d give my wealth

My first I wed when just sixteen And he was sixty—five. He treated me like any queen The years he was alive. Oh I betrayed him on the sly,

“Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither’… It fair maks me hamesick,” says P… “And whit did she send ye?” says… As he cockit his rifle and bleezed… “A haggis! A Haggis!” says Priva…

A bonny bird I found today Mired in a melt of tar; Its silky breast was silver—grey, Its wings were cinnabar. So still it lay right in the way

Between the cliff—rise and the bea… A slip of emerald I own; With fig and olive, almond, peach, cherry and plum—tree overgrown; Glad—watered by a crystal spring

Think not because you raise A gleaming sword, That you will win to praise Before the Lord. And though men hail you great

As I go forth from fair to mart With racket ringing, Who would divine that in my heart Mad larks are singing. As I sweet sympathy express,

The portrait there above my bed They tell me is a work of art; My Wife,—since twenty years she’s… Her going nearly broke my heart. Alas! No little ones we had