On Her Marriage As those who hear a sweet bird sin… And love each song it sings the be… Grieve when they see it taking win… And flying to another nest:

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…

Oh, will the footsteps never be do… The insolent feet Thronging the street, Forsaken now of the only one. The only one out of all the throng…

Sorrow and sin have worked their w… For years upon your sovereign face… And yet it keeps a faded trace Of its unequalled beauty still, As ruined sanctuaries hold

‘In the shadow of Thy wings, O L… I will put my trust for ever,’ so… ‘Thou shalt help me, Thou shalt s… Thou shalt keep me whole, In the shadow of Thy wings.’

Last Sunday night I read the sadd… Of the unanswered love of fair El… The 'faith unfaithful’ and the joy… Of Lancelot, ‘groaning in remorse… I thought of all those nights in w…

The sun shines fair on Tweedside,… Your heart is full of pleasure, yo… Your cheeks are like the morning,… Or morning and her dew-drops are l… Because you are a princess, a prin…

Till the tread of marching feet Through the quiet grass-grown stre… Of the little town shall come, Soldier, rest awhile at home. While the banners idly hang,

Not the proudest damsel here Looks so well as doth my dear. All the borrowed light of dress Outshining not her loveliness, A loveliness not born of art,

Sweetheart, that thou art fair I… More fair to me Than flowers that make the lovelie… To tempt the bee. When other girls, whose faces are,

Here, where the thoroughfares meet… Of ninety degrees (this angle is r… You may hear the loafers that jest… Through the sun-lit day and the la… Though day be dreary and night be…

A day of gladness yet will dawn, Though when I cannot say; Perhaps it may be Thursday week, Perhaps some other day,— When man, freed from the bond of c…

Short space shall be hereafter Ere April brings the hour Of weeping and of laughter, Of sunshine and of shower, Of groaning and of gladness,

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,

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,