Absence
When I think on the happy days
I spent wi’ you, my dearie;
And now what lands between us lie,
How can I be but eerie!
How slow ye move, ye heavy hours,
As ye were wae and weary!
It was na sae ye glinted by
When I was wi’ my dearie.
More poems by Anonymous
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The White Rose
Sent by a Yorkish Lover to His Lancastrian Mistress
IF this fair rose offend thy sight,
Placed in thy bosom bare, … -
Guilty, or Not Guilty?
She stood at the bar of justice,
A creature wan and wild,
In form too small for a woman, … -
King John and the Abbot of Canterbury
From “Percy’s Reliques”
AN ANCIENT story I ’ll tell you anon
Of a notable prince that was called King John; … -
The Vicar of Bray
IN 1 good King Charles’s golden days,
When loyalty no harm meant,
A zealous high-churchman was I, …