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,

‘What bluid’s that on thy coat lap… Son Davie! Son Davie! What bluid’s that on thy coat lap? And the truth come tell to me, O.… ‘It is the bluid of my great hawk,

Fair islands of the silver fleece, Hoards of unsunned, uncounted gold… Whose havens are the haunts of Pe… Whose boys are in our quarrel bold… OUR bolt is shot, our tale is tol…

Now the light of the sun, in the n… Shines, and their city is girt wit… And deep is the shade of the woods… Sings of the sea, and is sweet fro… Green is their garden and orchard,…

“And now am I greatly repenting t… ’Tis thought Odysseus when the st… With all the waves and wars, a wea… Grew restless in his disenchanted… And still would watch the sunset,…

Late at e’en, drinking the wine, And ere they paid the lawing, They set a combat them between, To fight it in the dawing. ‘Oh, stay at hame, my noble lord,

Now Liddisdale has ridden a raid, But I wat they had better staid a… For Mitchell o Winfield he is dea… And my son Johnie is prisner tane… With my fa ding diddle, la la dew…

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…

“‘Dead and gone,’—a sorry burden o… Say, fair maids, maying In gardens green, In deep dells straying, What end hath been

MOWERS, weary and brown, and bl… What is the word methinks ye know, Endless over-word that the Scythe Sings to the blades of the grass b… Scythes that swing in the grass an…

‘Once Cagn was like a father, kin… But He was spoiled by fighting ma… He wars upon the lions in the wood… And breaks the Thunder-bird’s tre… But still we cry to Him,—'We are…

AH! leave the smoke, the wealth,… Of London, leave the bustling str… For still, by the Sicilian shore, The murmur of the Muse is sweet. Still, still, the suns of summer g…

There’s a joy without canker or ca… There’s a pleasure eternally new, ’Tis to gloat on the glaze and the… Of china that’s ancient and blue; Unchipp’d all the centuries throug…

ON Calais Sands the gray began, Then rosy red above they gray; The morn with many a scarlet van Leaped, and the world was glad wit… The little waves along the bay

As, to the pipe, with rhythmic fee… In windings of some old-world danc… The smiling couples cross and meet… Join hands, and then in line advan… So, to these fair old tunes of Fr…