The Battle Of Harlaw (Anonymous Olde English Poems)
As I cam in by Dunidier,An doun by Netherha,There was fifty thousand HielanmenA-marching to Harlaw. As I cam on, an ...
As I cam in by Dunidier,An doun by Netherha,There was fifty thousand HielanmenA-marching to Harlaw. As I cam on, an ...
The King's son walks in the garden fair—Oh, the maiden's heart is merry!He little knows for his toil and care,That ...
She shall be sportive as the fawn That wild with glee across the lawn Or up the mountain springs; ...
I got the oil: too right. A cove called Shane. Yes; ole Bill Shane. You've 'eard of 'im, of course.Big ...
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow,We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago.And etched ...
It was a railway passenger, And he lept out jauntilie."Now up and bear, thou stout porter, My two chattels to ...
A spirit is singing a song somewhere, As I go out to my work—Singing aloud in the open air And ...
Oh! that is a beautiful land, I wis,The land of the Gone-away Souls.Yes, a lovelier region by far than this(Though ...
When dainty Mona walks this way My foolish heart will beat, And leaves me, though I turn aside, To lie ...
"Build me straight, O worthy Master! Stanch and strong, a goodly vessel, That shall laugh at all disaster, And with ...
The church flings forth a battled shade Over the moon-blanched sward: The church; my gift; whereto I paid My all ...
PART I 'Tis the middle of night by the castle clock And the owls have awakened the crowing cock; Tu-whit!- ...
A MIDDLE-AGE INTERLUDE. ROSA MUNDI; SEU, FULCITE ME FLORIBUS. A CONCEIT OF MASTER GYSBRECHT, CANON-REGULAR OF SAID JODOCUS-BY-THE-BAR, YPRES CITY. ...
When Christmas bells are swinging above the fields of snow, We hear sweet voices ringing from lands of long ago. ...
You may talk o' your lutes and your dulcimers fine, Your harps and your tabors and cymbals and a', But ...
Now wouldn't you expect to find a man an awful crank That's staked out nigh three hundred claims, and every ...
"Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me? It fair maks me hamesick," says Private McPhee. "And whit ...
Says Bauldy MacGreegor frae Gleska tae Hecky MacCrimmon frae Skye: "That's whit I hate maist aboot fechtin' -- it makes ...
Before those cruel twins whom at one birth Incestuous Change bore to her father Time, Error and Truth, had hunted ...
OUR true hearts are forever lonely: A wistfulness is in our thought: Our lights are like the dawns which only ...
I may not weep, not weep, and he is dead. A weary, weary weight of tears unshed Through the long ...
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