The scenes are desert now, and bare, Where flourished once a forest fair When these waste glens with copse were lined, And peopled with the hart and hind. Yon thorn, perchance whose prickly spears...
Like April morning clouds, that pass, With varying shadow, o'er the grass, And imitate, on field and furrow, Life's chequered scene of joy and sorrow; Like streamlet of the mountain North,...
An ancient minstrel sagely said, "Where is the life which late we led?" That motley clown in Arden wood, Whom humorous Jaques with envy viewed, Not even that clown could amplify,...
When dark December glooms the day, And takes our autumn joys away; When short and scant the sunbeam throws, Upon the weary waste of snows, A cold and profitless regard, Like patron on a needy bard,...
Heap on more wood! the wind is chill; But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still. Each age has deemed the new-born year The fittest time for festal cheer;...
Breathes there the man, with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land! Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd, As home his footsteps he hath turn'd...
To mute and to material things New life revolving summer brings; The genial call dead Nature hears, And in her glory reappears. But oh, my Country's wintry state What second spring shall renovate?...
Hear what Highland Nora said, "The Earlie's son I will not wed, Should all the race of nature die, And none be left but he and I. For all the gold, for all the gear, And all the lands both far and near,...
On Ettrick Forest's mountains dun 'Tis blithe to hear the sportsman's gun, And seek the heath-frequenting brood Far through the noonday solitude; By many a cairn and trenched mound,...
So goodbye, Mrs. Brown, I am going out of town, Over dale, over down, Where bugs bite not, Where lodgers fight not, Where below your chairmen drink not, Where beside your gutters stink not;...
I. Merrily swim we, the moon shines bright, Both current and ripple are dancing in light. We have roused the night raven, I heard him croak As we plashed along beneath the oak...
Breathes there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, 'This is my own, my native land!' Whose heart hath ne'er within him burn'd As home his footsteps he hath turn'd...
To mute and to material things New life revolving summer brings; The genial call dead Nature hears, And in her glory reappears. But oh, my Country's wintry state What second spring shall renovate?...
Pibroch of Donuil, Wake thy wild voice anew, Summon Clan-Conuil. Come away, come away, Hark to the summons! Come in your war array, Gentles and commons.
When Israel, of the Lord beloved, Out from the land of bondage came, Her father's God before her moved, An awful Guide, in smoke and flame. By day, along the astonished lands...
I. The Moon is in her summer glow, But hoarse and high the breezes blow, And, racking o'er her face, the cloud Varies the tincture of her shroud; On Barnard's towers, and Tees's stream,...
I. Far in the chambers of the west, The gale had sigh'd itself to rest; The moon was cloudless now and clear, But pale, and soon to disappear. The thin grey clouds wax dimly light...
I. The hunting tribes of air and earth Respect the brethren of their birth; Nature, who loves the claim of kind, Less cruel chase to each assign'd. The falcon, poised on soaring wing,...
I. When Denmark's raven soar'd on high, Triumphant through Northumbrian sky, Till, hovering near, her fatal croak Bade Reged's Britons dread the yoke, And the broad shadow of her wing...