Very old are the woods; And the buds that break Out of the briar's boughs, When March winds wake, So old with their beauty are - Oh, no man knows Through what wild centuries...
From his cradle in the glamourie They have stolen my wee brother, Roused a changeling in his swaddlings For to fret mine own poor mother. Pules it in the candle light Wi' a cheek so lean and white,...
There haunts in Time's bare house an active ghost, Enamoured of his name, Polonius. He moves small fingers much, and all his speech Is like a sampler of precisest words, Set in the pattern of a simpleton....
Thick in its glass The physic stands, Poor Henry lifts Distracted hands; His round cheek wans In the candlelight, To smell that smell! To see that sight!
Lone and alone she lies, Poor Miss 7, Five steep flights from the earth, And one from heaven; Dark hair and dark brown eyes, - Not to be sad she tries, Still - still it's lonely lies...
Deep in a forest where the kestrel screamed, Beside a lake of water, clear as glass, The time-worn windows of a stone house gleamed, Named only 'Alas.'
My mind is like a clamorous market-place. All day in wind, rain, sun, its babel wells; Voice answering to voice in tumult swells. Chaffering and laughing, pushing for a place,...
There came a Pedlar to an evening house; Sweet Lettice, from her lattice looking down, Wondered what man he was, so curious His black hair dangled on his tattered gown:...
Who said, 'Peacock Pie?' The old King to the sparrow: Who said, 'Crops are ripe?' Rust to the harrow: Who said, 'Where sleeps she now?' Where rests she now her head,...
There was nought in the Valley But a Tower of Ivory, Its base enwreathed with red Flowers that at evening Caught the sun's crimson As to Ocean low he sped.