A Field of Scat (Raymond A. Foss Poem)
Late January, in the cold clear wood Boots crunch through layers of snow and ice Breath catches in beard and ...
Late January, in the cold clear wood Boots crunch through layers of snow and ice Breath catches in beard and ...
I once knew all the birds that came And nested in our orchard trees; For every flower I had a ...
When the busy day is done, And my weary little one Rocketh gently to and fro; When the night winds ...
TO MISS GRACE KING Down in the old French quarter, Just out of Rampart street, I wend my way At ...
Think me not unkind and rude, That I walk alone in grove and glen; I go to the god of ...
When the pods went pop on the broom, green broom, And apples began to be golden-skinn'd, We harbour'd a stag ...
A chieftain, to the Highlands bound, Cries, ``Boatman, do not tarry! And I'll give thee a silver pound To row ...
Since all, that beat about in Nature's range, Or veer or vanish ; why should'st thou remain The only constant ...
'Tis true, Idoloclastes Satyrane ! (So call him, for so mingling blame with praise, And smiles with anxious looks, his ...
The blue bell is the sweetest flower That waves in summer air; Its blossoms have the mightiest power To soothe ...
"O day! he cannot die When thou so fair art shining! O Sun, in such a glorious sky, So tranquilly ...
The summer morn is bright and fresh, the birds are darting by, As if they loved to breast the breeze ...
The melancholy days are come, the saddest of the year, Of wailing winds, and naked woods, and meadows brown and ...
The country ever has a lagging Spring, Waiting for May to call its violets forth, And June its roses--showers and ...
I would I were a careless child, Still dwelling in my highland cave, Or roaming through the dusky wild, Or ...
WHARE are you gaun, my bonie lass, Whare are you gaun, my hinnie? She answered me right saucilie, "An errand ...
MY heart was ance as blithe and free As simmer days were lang; But a bonie, westlin weaver lad Has ...
THERE was a lass, they ca'd her Meg, And she held o'er the moors to spin; There was a lad ...
THEIR groves o' sweet myrtle let Foreign Lands reckon, Where bright-beaming summers exalt the perfume; Far dearer to me yon ...
HERE is the glen, and here the bower All underneath the birchen shade; The village-bell has told the hour, O ...
'TWAS even-the dewy fields were green, On every blade the pearls hang; The zephyr wanton'd round the bean, And bore ...
LAST May, a braw wooer cam doun the lang glen, And sair wi' his love he did deave me; I ...
THERE'S Auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, He's the King o' gude fellows, and wale o' auld men; ...
Chorus.-Blythe, blythe and merry was she, Blythe was she but and ben; Blythe by the banks of Earn, And blythe ...
AGAIN rejoicing Nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues: Her leafy locks wave in the breeze, All freshly steep'd ...
ADMIRING Nature in her wildest grace, These northern scenes with weary feet I trace; O'er many a winding dale and ...
BEHOLD, my love, how green the groves, The primrose banks how fair; The balmy gales awake the flowers, And wave ...
MY heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie, Some counsel unto me come len', To anger them a' is a pity, But ...
Up the airy mountain, Down the rushy glen, We daren't go a-hunting For fear of little men; Wee folk, good ...
THERE was a lass, and she was fair, At kirk or market to be seen; When a' our fairest maids ...
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