Andrew Lang Poems

I know Cythera long is desolate;
I know the winds have stripp'd the gardens green.
Alas, my friends! beneath the fierce sun's weight
...

I went to the mill, but the miller was gone,
I sat me down, and cried ochone!
To think on the days that are past and gone,
...

He lived in a cave by the seas,
He lived upon oysters and foes,
But his list of forbidden degrees,
An extensive morality shows;
...

When Lent and Responsions are ended,
When May with fritillaries waits,
When the flower of the chestnut is splendid,
...

As, to the pipe, with rhythmic feet
In windings of some old-world dance,
The smiling couples cross and meet,
...

While others are asking for beauty or fame,
Or praying to know that for which they should pray,
Or courting Queen Venus, that affable dame,
...

The winter is upon us, not the snow,
The hills are etched on the horizon bare,
The skies are iron grey, a bitter air,
...

'Rise up, rise up now, Lord Douglas,' she says,
'And put on your armour so bright;
Let it never be said that a daughter of thine
...

Clavers and his Highlandmen
Came down upo' the raw, man,
Who being stout, gave mony a clout;
The lads began to claw then.
...

It fell about the Martinmas,
When the wind blew shrill and cauld,
Said Edom o' Gordon to his men,--
'We maun draw to a hald.
...