I Know that deep within your heart of hearts
  You hold me shrined apart from common things,
And that my step, my voice, can bring to you
  A gladness that no other presence brings.

And yet, dear love, through all the weary days
  You never speak one...

Poet: Anonymous

A Good wife rose from her bed one morn,
  And thought, with a nervous dread,
Of the piles of clothes to be washed, and more
  Than a dozen mouths to be fed.
“There ’s the meals to get for the men in the field,
  And the children to fix away
To...

Poet: Anonymous

A Matrimonial Epic
    JOHN DOBBINS was so captivated
By Mary Trueman’s fortune, face, and cap,
(With near two thousand pounds the hook was baited,)
  That in he popped to matrimony’s trap.

One small ingredient towards happiness,
It seems, ne’er...

Poet: Anonymous

O Waly, waly, up the bank,
  O waly, waly, doun the brae,
And waly, waly, yon burn-side,
  Where I and my love were wont to gae!
I leaned my back unto an aik,
  I thocht it was a trustie tree,
But first it bowed and syne it brak’,—
  Sae my...

Poet: Anonymous

A Scottish Song
BALOW, my babe, ly stil and sleipe!
It grieves me sair to see thee weipe;
If thoust be silent, Ise be glad,
Thy maining maks my heart ful sad.
Balow, my boy, thy mither’s joy!
Thy father breides me great annoy.
    Balow, my...

Poet: Anonymous

“farewell! farewell!” is often heard
  From the lips of those who part:
’T is a whispered tone,—’t is a gentle word,
  But it springs not from the heart.
It may serve for the lover’s closing lay,
  To be sung ’neath a summer sky;
But give to me the...

Poet: Anonymous

From the Chinese by William. R. Alger

SHE says, “The cock crows,—hark!”
He says, “No! still ’t is dark.”

She says, “The dawn grows bright,”
He says, “O no, my Light.”

She says, “Stand up and say,
Gets not the heaven gray?”

He says, “...

Poet: Anonymous

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...

Poet: Anonymous

Linger not long. Home is not home without thee:
  Its dearest tokens do but make me mourn.
O, let its memory, like a chain about thee,
  Gently compel and hasten thy return!

Linger not long. Though crowds should woo thy staying,
  Bethink thee, can the...

Poet: Anonymous

The Farmer’s wife sat at the door,
  A pleasant sight to see;
And blithesome were the wee, wee bairns
  That played around her knee.

When, bending ’neath her heavy creel,
  A poor fish-wife came by,
And, turning from the toilsome road,
  ...

Poet: Anonymous