LITTLE ANNA young and fair, How with heart a-dancing, I descry her image rare, O’er the footway glancing. Ah, those locks of dusky hue,

THE baleful era of King Gold has… And men disgusted with the part th… From out the temple of their heart… The idols that debased the souls t… Man yet hath passions and the caus…

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…

AS ever a bard in such pitiful pl… Was ever such seen by yon stars in… A-pit or a-bed, by day and by nigh… I’m plagued by the magic of two ha… A leaf in a whirlwind, I’m sent t…

OLD Uncle Bob lay on the settle, At eventide, while on the hob, ‘Roe-tee-riti-too’ sang the kettle… And charmed the dear heart of old… ‘Ree-tee-riti-too’ on his ears, lo…

A SONG in devotion I sing to my… Ah! be startled not to discover I… To fold in my arms and possess wha… And many a time is the theme of my… My manhood’s dissolved at the sigh…

FLY not away, wee birdie, pray! No weasels we, no evil-bringers, Would make thee bear the pangs tha… Too oft the hearts of sweetest sin… Long may thy nest with eggs be ble…

IF Ellerton Willy be slighted by… Yet others as bonny will hark to h… Then why like a silly bit daffodow… Should I droop my head, droop, an… Chorus:—Then why should pine Will…

WILTED is the leaf, and blown By the cold wind up and down, That beheld thy promise fair, Maiden with the dark brown hair! Shatter’d is this heart, and hurl’…

AWAY with the muses of frolic!—a… With the haunts of diversion and f… Ay, mine be the joy to awaken a la… And to weave for misfortune a garl… We shrink at life’s shadows and fl…

A THOUGHT TOILER faint and… And the manifold troubles by which… Combined with the titters and snee… Lost heart and thus vented the pan… “I’m a-weary with care, I’m a-wea…

WHEN Day once stirs, her locks o… Up, seize, ere she is well awaken! And with her steps thy paces hold, Till she from Earth her leave hat… What tho’ upon the way she frown,

center A new song to an old tune. AWAY to the pic-nic at Ryton, aw… Went off in the sunrise our younke… And many were bonny and many were…

FROM the pipe-end off it glides, Many hued appearing; What, if cynic harsh derides, Sets the boys a-staring. In their eyes gleam its dyes,

HER harp she takes, from string t… Her little snowy fingers, glancing… Into Night’s ear a wild spell fli… And all the while my heart is danc… Why thus, fond heart, thus dancest…