Autumn departs - but still his man… Rests on the groves of noble Some… Beneath a shroud of russet dropp’d… Tweed and his tributaries mingle s… Hoarser the wind, and deeper sound…

Good evening, Sir Priest, and so… With your mule so fair, and your m… But ride you through valley, or ri… There is one that has warrant to w… Back, back,

Heap on more wood! the wind is chi… But let it whistle as it will, We’ll keep our Christmas merry st… Each age has deemed the new-born y… The fittest time for festal cheer;

At morn the black-cock trims his j… ‘T is morning prompts the linnet’s… All Nature’s children feel the ma… Of life reviving, with reviving da… And while yon little bark glides d…

Young men will love thee more fair… Heard ye so merry the little bird… Old men’s love the longest will la… And the throstle-cock’s head is un… The young man’s wrath is like ligh…

Sound, sound the clarion, fill the… To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.

The sun upon the lake is low, The wild birds hush their song, The hills have evening’s deepest g… Yet Leonard tarries long. Now all whom varied toil and care

Breathes there the man, with soul… Who never to himself hath said, ‘This is my own, my native land!’ Whose heart hath ne’er within him… As home his footsteps he hath turn…

Harp of the North, farewell! The… On purple peaks a deeper shade des… In twilight copse the glow-worm li… The deer, half-seen, are to the co… Resume thy wizard elm! the fountai…

Fair Brussels, thou art far behin… Though, lingering on the morning w… We yet may hear the hour Pealed over orchard and canal, With voice prolonged and measured…

To the Lords of Convention ’twas… ‘Ere the King’s crown shall fall… So let each Cavalier who loves ho… Come follow the bonnet of Bonny D… Come fill up my cup, come fill up…

On Ettrick Forest’s mountains dun ’Tis blithe to hear the sportsman’… And seek the heath-frequenting bro… Far through the noonday solitude; By many a cairn and trenched mound…

Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh, The sun has left the lea, The orange flower perfumes the bow… The breeze is on the sea. The lark his lay who thrill’d all…

Far in the chambers of the west, The gale had sigh’d itself to rest… The moon was cloudless now and cle… But pale, and soon to disappear. The thin grey clouds wax dimly lig…

CORONACH He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest.