WHEN loud by landside streamlets… And clear in the greenwood quires… With sun on the meadows And songs in the shadows Comes again to me

When aince Aprile has fairly come… An’ birds may bigg in winter’s lum… An’ pleisure’s spreid for a’ and s… O’ whatna state, Love, wi’ her auld recruitin’ drum…

I WHO all the winter through Cherished other loves than you, And kept hands with hoary policy i… Now I know the false and true, For the earnest sun looks through,

I DREAMED of forest alleys fai… And fields of gray—flowered grass, Where by the yellow summer moon My Jenny seemed to pass. I dreamed the yellow summer moon,

All around the house is the jet—bl… It stares through the window—pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding f… And it moves with the moving flame… Now my little heart goes a beating…

Give to me the life I love, Let the lave go by me, Give the jolly heaven above And the byway nigh me. Bed in the bush with stars to see,

YOU looked so tempting in the pew… You looked so sly and calm — My trembling fingers played with y… As both looked out the Psalm. Your heart beat hard against my ar…

She rested by the Broken Brook, She drank of Weary Well, She moved beyond my lingering look… Ah, whither none can tell! She came, she went. In other lan…

A mile an’ a bittock, a mile or tw… Abune the burn, ayont the law, Davie an’ Donal’ an’ Cherlie an’… An’ the mune was shinin’ clearly! Ane went hame wi’ the ither, an’ t…

GO, little book– the ancient phra… And still the daintiest– go your w… My Otto, over sea and land, Till you shall come to Nelly’s ha… How shall I your Nelly know?

Sing me a song of a lad that is go… Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye. Mull was astern, Rum on the port,

FIXED is the doom; and to the la… Teacher and taught, friend, lover,… Each walks, though near, yet separ… His dear ones shine beyond him lik… We also, love, forever dwell apart…

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,

THIS gloomy northern day, Or this yet gloomier night, Has moved a something high In my cold heart; and I, That do not often pray,

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…