Moo, moo, brown cow Have you any milk? Yes miss, three jugs smooth as sil… One for you, And one for me,
God, that art of myghtis most, Fader and Sone and Holy Gost, That bought man on Rode so dere, Shilde us from the fowle fende, That is about mannys sowle to shen…
Nerve thy soul with doctrines nobl… Noble in the walks of time, Time that leads to an eternal, An eternal life sublime. Life sublime in moral beauty,
Phyllida. CORYDON, arise, my C… Titan shineth clear. Corydon. Who is it that calleth C… Who is it that I hear? Phyl. Phyllida, thy true love, ca…
My dress is silent when I tread t… Or stay at home or stir upon the w… Sometimes my trappings and the lof… Raise me above the dwelling-place… And then the power of clouds carri…
An old man going a lone highway, Came, at the evening cold and gray… To a chasm vast and deep and wide, The old man crossed in the twiligh… The sullen stream had no fear for…
OF on that is so fayr and bright Velut maris stella, Brighter than the day is light, Parens et puella: Ic crie to the, thou see to me,
THIS winter’s weather it waxeth… And frost it freezeth on every… And Boreas blows his blast so bol… That all our cattle are like to… Bell, my wife, she loves no strife…
Westron wind, when wilt thou blow That small rain down can rain? Christ, that my love were in my ar… And I in my bed again!
TWAS the night after Christmas,… Not a creature was stirring—except… The stockings were flung in haste… For hopes of St. Nicholas were no… The children were restlessly tossi…
We redeth oft and findeth ywrite - And this clerkes wele it wite - Layes that ben in harping Ben yfounde of ferli thing. Sum bethe of wer and sum of wo,
I want to go home, I want to go home, I don’t want to go in the trenches… Where whizz-bangs and shrapnel the… Take me over the sea
THERE is a Lady sweet and kind, Was never face so pleased my mind; I did but see her passing by, And yet I love her till I die. Her gesture, motion, and her smile…
I WISH I were where Helen lies, Night and day on me she cries; O that I were where Helen lies, On fair Kirconnell lea! Curst be the heart that thought th…
It fell about the Martinmas, When the wind blew shrill and caul… Said Edom o’ Gordon to his men, ‘We maun draw to a hauld. ’And whatna hauld sall we draw to,