Mid April seemed like some Novemb… When through the glassy waters, du… Our boat, like shadowy barques tha… Slipped down the long shores of th… Rounded a point,—and San Terenzo…

O I forbid you, maidens a’, That wear gowd on your hair, To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For young Tam Lin is there. There’s nane that gaes by Carterh…

Clerk Saunders and may Margaret Walked ower yon garden green; And sad and heavy was the love That fell thir twa between. ‘A bed, a bed,’ Clerk Saunders sa…

The burden of hard hitting: slog a… Here shalt thou make a “five” and… And then upon thy bat shalt lean,… That thou art in for an uncommon s… Yea, the loud ring applauding thee…

It fell about the Martinmas, When the wind blew shrill and caul… Said Edom o’ Gordon to his men,— ‘We maun draw to a hald. ’And whatna hald shall we draw to,

When captaines couragious, whom de… Did march to the siege of the citt… They mustred their souldiers by tw… And the formost in battle was Mar… When [the] brave sergeant-major wa…

HAD cigarettes no ashes, And roses ne’er a thorn, No man would be a funker Of whin, or burn, or bunker. There were no need for mashies,

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…

In the Aves of Aristophanes, the Bird Chorus declare that they are older than the Gods, and greater benefactors of men. This idea recurs in almost all savage mythologies, and I have ma...

Apollo left the golden Muse And shepherded a mortal’s sheep, Theocritus of Syracuse! To mock the giant swain that woo’s The sea-nymph in the sunny deep,

This life—one was thinking to-day, In the midst of a medley of fancie… Is a game, and the board where we… Green earth with her poppies and p… Let manque be faded romances,

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…

In London city was Bicham born, He longd strange countries for to… But he was taen by a savage Moor, Who handld him right cruely. For thro his shoulder he put a bor…

Returning from what other seas Dost thou renew thy murmuring, Weak Tide, and hast thou aught of… To tell, the shores where float an… My love, my hope, my memories?

AS one that for a weary space has… Lull’d by the song of Circe and h… In gardens near the pale of Prose… Where that Aeaean isle forgets th… And only the low lutes of love com…