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    O, gentle shade of quiet woods,
        Where nature dwells in leafy halls,
        I love the sacred voice that falls
    In music o'er thy solitudes!
    Within thine arms the weary heart
        Is hidden from the toils of men,
    And pleasure makes ambition start
        Into a nobler life again.

    Among the fragrant shadows throng
        With all the riches of their truth,
        Glad echoes from the days of youth
    And mingle into laughing song;
    While angel fingers touch the keys
        That slumber in the silent breast,
    Till mem'ry wakes her lullabies
        And childhood fancies rock to rest.

    Again the hours of early joy
        Upon the aged years intrude,
        And dance amid the summer wood
    T...

I.

O wha my babie-clouts will buy?
O wha will tent me when I cry?
Wha will kiss me where I lie?
    The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.

II.

O wha will own he did the fau't?
O wha will buy the groanin' maut?
O wha will tell me how to ca't?
    The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.

III.

When I mount the creepie chair,
Wha will sit beside me there?
Gie me Rob, I'll seek nae mair,
    The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.

IV.

Wha will crack to me my lane?
Wha will make me fidgin' fain?
Wha will kiss me o'er again?
    The rantin' dog, the daddie o't.

I sawe a Mayd sitte on a Bank,
Beguiled by Wooer fayne and fond;
And whiles His flatterynge Vowes She drank,
Her Nurselynge slipt within a Pond!

All Even Tide they Talkde and Kist,
For She was Fayre and He was Kinde;
The Sunne went down before She wist
Another Sonne had sett behinde!

With angrie Hands and frownynge Browe,
That deemd Her owne the Urchine's Sinne,
She pluckt Him out, but he was nowe
Past being Whipt for fallynge in.

She then beginnes to wayle the Ladde
With Shrikes that Echo answered round -
O foolish Mayd! to be soe sadde
The Momente that her Care was drownd!

Kabul town's by Kabul river,
Blow the trumpet, draw the sword,
There I lef' my mate for ever,
Wet an' drippin' by the ford.
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
There's the river up and brimmin', an' there's 'arf a squadron swimmin'
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town's a blasted place,
Blow the trumpet, draw the sword,
'Strewth I shan't forget 'is face
Wet an' drippin' by the ford!
Ford, ford, ford o' Kabul river,
Ford o' Kabul river in the dark!
Keep the crossing-stakes beside you, an' they will surely guide you
'Cross the ford o' Kabul river in the dark.

Kabul town is sun and dust,
Blow the trumpet, draw the sword,
I'd ha' sooner drownded fust
'Stead of 'im beside the ford.
Ford...

Looking Over A Gate At A Pool In A Field.


What change has made the pastures sweet
And reached the daisies at my feet,
And cloud that wears a golden hem?
This lovely world, the hills, the sward -
They all look fresh, as if our Lord
But yesterday had finished them.

And here's the field with light aglow;
How fresh its boundary lime-trees show,
And how its wet leaves trembling shine!
Between their trunks come through to me
The morning sparkles of the sea
Below the level browsing line

I see the pool more clear by half
Than pools where other waters laugh
Up at the breasts of coot and rail.
There, as she passed it on her way,
I saw reflected yesterday
A maiden with a milking-pail.

There, neither slowly nor in haste,
O...

Some candle clear burns somewhere I come by.
I muse at how its being puts blissful back
With yellowy moisture mild night's blear-all black,
Or to-fro tender trambeams truckle at the eye.
By that window what task what fingers ply,
I plod wondering, a-wanting, just for lack
Of answer the eagerer a-wanting Jessy or Jack
There    God to aggrándise, God to glorify. -

Come you indoors, come home; your fading fire
Mend first and vital candle in close heart's vault:
You there are master, do your own desire;
What hinders? Are you beam-blind, yet to a fault
In a neighbour deft-handed? Are you that liar
And cast by conscience out, spendsavour salt?

'Twas the height of the fete when we quitted the riot,
    And quietly stole to the terrace alone,
Where, pale as the lovers that ever swear by it,
    The moon it 
We stood there enchanted. - And O the delight of
    The sight of the stars and the moon and the sea,
And the infinite skies of that opulent night of
    Purple and gold and ivory!

The lisp of the lip of the ripple just under -
    The half-awake nightingale's dream in the yews -
Came up from the water, and down from the wonder
    Of shadowy foliage, drowsed with the dews, -
Unsteady the firefly's taper - unsteady
    The poise of the stars, and their light in the tide,
As it struggled and writhed in caress of the eddy,
    As love in the billowy breast of a ...

1

Friends
The old word is dead.
The old books are dead.
Our speech with holes like worn-out shoes is dead.
Dead is the mind that led to defeat.

2

Our poetry has gone sour.
Women's hair, nights, curtains and sofas
Have gone sour.
Everything has gone sour.

3

My grieved country,
In a flash
You changed me from a poet who wrote love poems
To a poet who writes with a knife

4

What we feel is beyond words:
We should be ashamed of our poems.

5

Stirred by Oriental bombast,
By boastful swaggering that never killed a fly,
By the fiddle and the drum,
We went to war,
And lost.

6

Our shouting is louder than out actions,
Our swords are taller than us,
...