Where she sleeps, no moonlight shi… No pale beam unbidden creeps. Darkest shade the place enshrines Where she sleeps. Like a diamond in the deeps

After the melting of the snow Divines depart and April comes; Examinations nearer grow After the melting of the snow; The grinder wears a face of woe,

Love, when the present is become t… And dust has covered all that now… When many a fame has faded out of… And many a later fame is fading fa… If then these songs of mine might…

The air is dark and fragrant With memories of a shower, And sanctified with stillness By this most holy hour. The leaves forget to whisper

The truest Liberal is he Who sees the man in each degree, Who merit in a churl can prize, And baseness in an earl despise, Yet censures baseness in a churl,

Beside the drowsy streams that cre… Within this island of repose, Oh, let us rest from cares and woe… Oh, let us fold our hands to sleep… Is it ignoble, then, to keep

I know the garden-close of sin, The cloying fruits, the noxious fl… I long have roamed the walks and b… Desiring what no man shall win: A secret place to shelter in,

Blue, blue is the sea to-day, Warmly the light Sleeps on St. Andrews Bay— Blue, fringed with white. That’s no December sky!

Brown was my friend, and faithful—… He came to see me in the twilight… I rose politely and invited him To take a seat—how heavily he sat! He sat upon the sofa, where my hat…

Hurrah for the Science Club! Join it, ye fourth year men; Join it, thou smooth-cheeked scrub… Whose years scarce number ten Join it, divines most grave;

I met him down upon the pier, His eyes were wild and sad, And something in them made me fear That he was going mad. So, being of a prudent sort,

When the weary night is fled, And the morning sky is red, Then my heart doth rise and say, ‘Surely she will come to-day.’ In the golden blaze of noon,

Life is a house where many chamber… And all the doors will yield to hi… Save one, whereof men say, behind… The haunting secret. He who keeps… Keeps it securely, smiles perchanc…

Never was sun so bright before, No matin of the lark so sweet, No grass so green beneath my feet, Nor with such dewdrops jewelled o’… I stand with thee outside the door…

The sun is banished, The daylight vanished, No rosy traces Are left behind. Here in the meadow