Maids shout to breakfast in a merr… And the cat runs to hear the whett… And dogs are ever in the way to wa… The mouldy crust and falling bone… The wooden dishes round in haste a…

What is there in those distant hil… My fancy longs to see, That many a mood of joy instils? Say what can fancy be? Do old oaks thicken all the woods,

The landscape sleeps in mist from… And, if the sun looks through, ‘ti… Beamless and pale and round, as if… When done the journey of her night… Had found him sleeping, and suppli…

Darkness like midnight from the so… Clamours with dismal tidings of th… Roaring as rivers breaking loose i… To spread and foam and deluge all… The cotter listens at his door aga…

Love, meet me in the green glen, Beside the tall elm—tree, Where the sweetbriar smells so swe… There come with me. Meet me in the green glen.

How beautiful the summer night When birds roost on the mossy tree… When moon and stars are shining br… And home has gone the weary bee! Then Mary Bayfield seeks the glen…

O the evening’s for the fair, bonn… To meet the cooler air and walk an… With the dark dishevelled hair, Bonny lassie O! The bloom’s on the brere, bonny la…

The infant april joins the spring And views its watery skye As youngling linnet trys its wing And fears at first to flye With timid step she ventures on

On the eighteenth of October we l… All ready to set sail, with a fres… A fortnight and nine days we in th… And no breeze ever reached us or s… Three ships of war had we, and the…

Say, wilt thou go with me, sweet m… Say, maiden, wilt thou go with me Through the valley—depths of shade… Of bright and dark obscurity; Where the path has lost its way,

One gloomy eve I roamed about Neath Oxey’s hazel bowers, While timid hares were darting out… To crop the dewy flowers; And soothing was the scene to me,

The firetail tells the boys when n… And tweets and flies from every pa… The yellowhammer never makes a noi… But flies in silence from the nois… The boys will come and take them e…

The Old Year’s gone away To nothingness and night: We cannot find him all the day Nor hear him in the night: He left no footstep, mark or place

My love she wears a cotton plaid, A bonnet of the straw; Her cheeks are leaves of roses spr… Her lips are like the haw. In truth she is as sweet a maid