‘I HATE outlandish things, and o… I’ve little liking for the sonnet; ’Tis for a lazy Muse, and one Who hath a bumler in her bonnet. ‘Tis a humdrum song, and tho’ not…

‘SAY, whither goes my buxom maid All with the coal-black e’e?’ ‘Before I answer that,’ she said, ‘Give ear, and answer me. ’Pray, hast thou e’er thy counsel…

THE hopes that allured me To cope with the worst, At length have secured me The tortures accurst, Of fever and grief,

ELEVEN long winters departed Since you and he sailed o’er the m… Dear, dear—I’ve been thrice broke… And thrice—but, ah, let me refrain… There was not a lassie in Plessy,

(Suggested by an old verse.) THRO’ the dark and dreary night, Golden slumbers kiss thine eyes; Sleep, and in the early light With a golden smile arise!

THE Hartley men are noble, and Ye’ll hear a tale of woe; I’ll tell the doom of the Hartley… The year of sixty-two. ’Twas on a Thursday morning, on

AH me, my heart is like to break, The envied rose upon my cheek, The blood red rose is cold and ble… Since he has slighted me. A very shadow lone and pale,

DIRECTED by a little star, I paced towards my own loved cot, When rushed a meteor from afar, And I my little guide forgot. Bedazzled was I, and amazed,

O, MY Spirit, art thou vanquisht… Is thy latest prospect gone? Must my task be thus relinquisht Ere my noble end is won? Must I die, and be remember’d

ONE day as I came down by Jarrow… Engirt by a crowd on a stone, A woman sat moaning and sorrow Seized all who gave heed to her mo… “Nay, blame not my sad lamentation…

MERRY, lark-like, merry, At the break of day, Polly meeteth Harry Coming down the way; And her lips, they quiver,

Mother wept, and father sigh’d; With delight a-glow Cried the lad, “To-morrow,” cried… “To the pit I go.” Up and down the place he sped,

A KNIGHT right bold rode over t… Saluted maidens three: ‘Now, if each possess’d what she l… What would her portion be?’ The eldest replied: ‘A carriage o…

‘ADIEU!’ she cried, and with tha… Adown the star-lit valley fleeted, And Echo from her tower on high, With cruel tongue, the word repeat… ‘What?—Never!’ cried I, yet posse…

WHAT can he ail? I hear them ask And what can make his cheek so pal… Ah, that to answer were a task For which no effort could avail, To say I love were but to say