Here stand my books, line upon lin… They reach the roof, and row by ro… They speak of faded tastes of mine… And things I did, but do not, kno… Old school books, useless long ago…

Of all Gods Death alone Disdaineth sacrifice: No man hath found or shown The gift that Death would prize. In vain are songs or sighs,

For thee soft crowns in thine untr… I wove, my lady, and to thee I be… Thither no shepherd drives his flo… Nor scythe of steel has ever labou… Nay, through the spring among the…

O waly, waly, up the bank, O waly, waly, down the brae. And waly, waly, yon burn side, Where I and my love wont to gae. I leaned my back unto an aik,

O Rose the Red and White Lilly, Their mother dear was dead, And their father married an ill wo… Wishd them twa little guede. Yet she had twa as fu fair sons

Ye wells, ye founts that fall From the steep mountain wall, That fall, and flash, and fleet With silver feet, Ye woods, ye streams that lave

False Sir John a wooing came To a maid of beauty fair; May Colven was this lady’s name, Her father’s only heir. He wood her butt, he wood her ben,

Where smooth the southern waters r… By rustling leagues of poplars gre… Beneath a veiled soft southern sun… We wandered out of yesterday, Went maying through that ancient…

Ye giant shades of RA and TUM, Ye ghosts of gods Egyptian, If murmurs of our planet come To exiles in the precincts wan Where, fetish or Olympian,

The man whom once, Melpomene, Thou look’st on with benignant sig… Shall never at the Isthmus be A boxer eminent in fight, Nor fares he foremost in the fligh…

Not Jason nor Medea wise, I crave to see, nor win much lore, Nor list to Orpheus’ minstrelsies… Nor Her’cles would I see, that o’… The wide world roamed from shore t…

Clavers and his Highlandmen Came down upo’ the raw, man, Who being stout, gave mony a clout… The lads began to claw then. With sword and terge into their ha…

Your hair and chin are like the ha… And chin Burne-Jones’s ladies wea… You were unfashionably fair In '83; And sad you were when girls are ga…

Dead—he is dead! The rouge has le… On that thin cheek where shone, pe… Even while the people laughed that… But yesterday. He died,—and not i… And many a black-robed caitiff sta…

It fell about the Martinmas tyde, When our Border steeds get corn a… The captain of Bewcastle hath bou… And he’s ower to Tividale to driv… The first ae guide that they met w…