“GET UP!” the caller calls, “Ge… And in the dead of night, To win the bairns their bite and s… I rise a weary wight. My flannel dudden donn’d, thrice o…

CAN this be her? Her dark eyes… Two planets in the midnight heaven… Her cheeks the blood-dyed rose—her… The snow upon the mountains driven… Her tongue’s a silver bell to hear…

WRAPT in fancy by a river, That flows onward ever, ever, Down I sat me while the moon In her fairest vesture shone— All was still as death, when lo!

I GO—from all earth can give, riv… By fate’s sternest mandate—so—so, A Queen in a fiery car driven, To meet her god-lover—I go. That blissful reunion to hasten,

I LIKE the darling critics—like? O, how upon their work I linger, When they their weapons use to str… Not me, but some less happy singer… The treasure of their venom-bags

‘YOU little like the sonnet? Yo… But what are you? a creaking wicke… A cricket in the grass, allow Me, slut! to say a very cricket!— ’A chatter-box, or at the best’—

BALOO, my sweet baby—the blossom… I dandle’t till weary, and sigh, With not a bare drop in my bosom To silence its pitiful cry. The red moon above us right rarely…

WAS ever wretch in such a plight? I scramble on I know not whither! The witches are abroad to-night; Some wicked one has led me hither! ‘That’s just like you, you’ll have…

BACK flies my soul to other year… When thou that charming lay repeat… When smiles were only chased by te… Yet sweeter far than smiles the sw… Thy music ends, and where are they…

YE’VE heard of Meg Goldlocks of… The stoniest damsel that ever was… Yet, her beauty distress’d, with i… Of the lasses for miles around Wi… Mary of Howdon, with Robin would…

COAL black are the tresses of Fa… But never a mortal could see The coal-coloured tresses of Anni… And be as a body should be. White, white, is her forehead, and…

THE vision will vanish for ever, That gildeth this moment thy track… And in vain were the noblest endea… To call the enchantment back. Yet pine not; a balm—an ovation

AH, be not vain. In yon flower-be… As rare a pearl, did I appear, As ever grew in ocean shell, To dangle at a Helen’s ear. So was I till a cruel blast

I READ in an old book the myth Of the Hellenian damsel with The magic needle, when there fell On me a power—a mystic spell— I could not well to others tell.

LA, what a Night! The hag has… In hue to prove a chimla sweeper; And did the North not blow his ho… No star would dare to show its pee… How black her look!—(Just like th…