Life poems
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Our Martrys
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
I AM sitting alone and weary,
By the hearth of my darkened room,
And the low wind's miserere,
Makes sadder the midnight gloom.
54. Man was made to Mourn: A Dirge
© Robert Burns
WHEN chill Novembers surly blast
Made fields and forests bare,
One evning, as I wanderd forth
Along the banks of Ayr,
The Bond.
© Robert Crawford
Love me for Love's sake till the dream is done,
And when we waken let us part for aye!
No bond but this; it is the better way,
For life spun so may easy be unspun,
347. SongYe Jacobites by Name
© Robert Burns
YE Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear,
Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear,
Ye Jacobites by name,
Your fautes I will proclaim,
Your doctrines I maun blame, you shall hear.
Jacqueline
© Samuel Rogers
'Twas Autumn; thro' Provence had ceased
The vintage, and the vintage-feast.
The sun had set behind the hill,
The moon was up, and all was still,
310. Tam o Shanter: A Tale
© Robert Burns
This truth fand honest TAM O SHANTER,
As he frae Ayr ae night did canter:
(Auld Ayr, wham neer a town surpasses,
For honest men and bonie lasses).
Ariel
© Paul Hamilton Hayne
A VOICE like the murmur of doves,
Soft lightning from eyes of blue;
On her cheek a flush like love's
First delicate, rosebud hue;
26. John Barleycorn: A Ballad
© Robert Burns
THERE was three kings into the east,
Three kings both great and high,
And they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn should die.
Newark Abbey
© Thomas Love Peacock
I gaze, where August's sunbeam falls
Along these grey and lonely walls,
Till in its light absorbed appears
The lapse of five-and-thirty years.
62. Epistle to William Simson
© Robert Burns
Sae, ye observe that a this clatter
Is naething but a moonshine matter;
But tho dull prose-folk Latin splatter
In logic tulyie,
I hope we bardies ken some better
Than mind sic brulyie.
In Hospital
© Edith Nesbit
Under the shadow of a hawthorn brake,
Where bluebells draw the sky down to the wood,
280. The Kirk of Scotlands Alarm: A Ballad
© Robert Burns
ORTHODOX! orthodox, who believe in John Knox,
Let me sound an alarm to your conscience:
A heretic blast has been blown in the West,
That what is no sense must be nonsense,
Orthodox! That what is no sense must be nonsense.
87. The Twa Dogs
© Robert Burns
Note 1. Luath was Burns own dog. [back]
Note 2. Cuchullins dog in Ossians Fingal.R. B. [back]
The Progress of Taste, or the Fate of Delicacy
© William Shenstone
A POEM ON THE TEMPER AND STUDIES OF THE AUTHOR; AND HOW GREAT A MISFORTUNE IT IS FOR A MAN OF SMALL ESTATE TO HAVE MUCH TASTE.
Part first.
17. Paraphrase of the First Psalm
© Robert Burns
THE MAN, in life wherever placd,
Hath happiness in store,
Who walks not in the wickeds way,
Nor learns their guilty lore!
80. The Jolly Beggars: A Cantata
© Robert Burns
AirTuneSoldiers Joy.I am a son of Mars who have been in many wars,
And show my cuts and scars wherever I come;
This here was for a wench, and that other in a trench,
When welcoming the French at the sound of the drum.
Lal de daudle, &c.
John Barleycorn
© Robert Burns
There were three kings into the east,
Three kings both great and high,
An' they hae sworn a solemn oath
John Barleycorn should die.
24. SongNo Churchman am I
© Robert Burns
NO churchman am I for to rail and to write,
No statesman nor soldier to plot or to fight,
No sly man of business contriving a snare,
For a big-bellyd bottles the whole of my care.
540. Inscription to Chloris
© Robert Burns
TIS Friendships pledge, my young, fair Friend,
Nor thou the gift refuse,
Nor with unwilling ear attend
The moralising Muse.
Runnamede, A Tragedy. Acts I.-II.
© John Logan
Yet lost to fame is virtue's orient reign;
The patriot lived, the hero died in vain,
Dark night descended o'er the human day,
And wiped the glory of the world away:
Whirled round the gulf, the acts of time were tost,
Then in the vast abyss for ever lost.
