The clinkum-clank o’ Sabbath bell… Noo to the hoastin’ rookery swells… Noo faintin’ laigh in shady dells, Sounds far an’ near, An’ through the simmer kintry tell…

As One Who Having Wandered All… AS one who having wandered all ni… In a perplexed forest, comes at le… In the first hours, about the mati… And when the sun uprises in his st…

To you, let snow and roses And golden locks belong. These are the world’s enslavers, Let these delight the throng. For her of duskier lustre

FLOWER god, god of the spring,… Cold—dyed shield in the sky, lover… Here I wander in April Cold, grey—headed; and still to my Heart, Spring comes with a bound,…

On the great streams the ships may… About men’s business to and fro. But I, the egg-shell pinnace, sle… On crystal waters ankle-deep: I, whose diminutive design,

AS swallows turning backward When half—way o’er the sea, At one word’s trumpet summons They came again to me — The hopes I had forgotten

MY first gift and my last, to you I dedicate this fascicle of songs… The only wealth I have: Just as they are, to you. I speak the truth in soberness, an…

THEY tell me, lady, that to—day On that unknown Australian strand… Some time ago, so far away— Another lady joined the band. She joined the company of those

Tall as a guardsman, pale as the e… Who strides in strange apparel on… Rails for his breakfast? routs his… (Like boys escaped from school) wi… Kind and unkind, his Maker’s fina…

STOUT marches lead to certain en… We seek no Holy Grail, my friends… That dawn should find us every day Some fraction farther on our way. The dumb lands sleep from east to…

In mony a foreign pairt I’ve been… An’ mony an unco ferlie seen, Since, Mr. Johnstone, you and I Last walkit upon Cocklerye. Wi’ gleg, observant een, I pass’t

In the beloved hour that ushers da… In the pure dew, under the breakin… One bird, ere yet the woodland qui… With brief reveille summons all th… Chirp, chirp, it goes; nor waits a…

I ASK good things that I detest, With speeches fair; Heed not, I pray Thee, Lord, my… But hear my prayer. I say ill things I would not say…

AS when the hunt by holt and fiel… Drives on with horn and strife, Hunger of hopeless things pursues Our spirits throughout life. The sea’s roar fills us aching ful…

YOU have been far, and I Been farther yet, Since last, in foul or fair An impecunious pair, Below this northern sky