Let not woman e’er complain
  Of inconstancy in love;
Let not woman e’er complain
  Fickle man is apt to rove;
Look abroad through Nature’s range,
Nature’s mighty law is change;
Ladies, would it not be strange
  Man should then a monster...

Poet: Robert Burns

Lady Heron’s Song from “Marmion”
Canto V.
O, YOUNG Lochinvar is come out of the west,
Through all the wide Border his steed was the best;
And, save his good broadsword, he weapon had none,
He rode all unarmed, and he rode all alone.
So faithful in...

Come, all ye jolly shepherds
  That whistle through the glen,
I ’ll tell ye of a secret
  That courtiers dinna ken:
What is the greatest bliss
  That the tongue o’ man can name?
’T is to woo a bonny lassie
  When the kye comes hame!...

Poet: James Hogg

Of all the girls that are so smart
  There ’s none like pretty Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
  And she lives in our alley.
There is no lady in the land
  Is half so sweet as Sally;
She is the darling of my heart,
  And she lives in...

Poet: Henry Carey

How sweet the answer Echo makes
To Music at night
When, roused by lute or horn, she wakes,
And far away o’er lawns and lakes
Goes answering light!

Yet Love hath echoes truer far
And far more sweet
Than e’er, beneath the moonlight’s star,...

Poet: Thomas Moore

From “Irish Melodies”
O THE DAYS are gone when beauty bright
        My heart’s chain wove!
When my dream of life, from morn till night,
        Was love, still love!
        New hope may bloom,
        And days may come,
  Of milder, calmer...

Poet: Thomas Moore

From “Irish Melodies”
COME, rest in this bosom, my own stricken deer,
Though the herd have fled from thee, thy home is still here;
Here still is the smile, that no cloud can o’ercast,
And a heart and a hand all thy own to the last.

Oh! what was love made...

Poet: Thomas Moore

Believe me, if all those endearing young charms,
  Which I gaze on so fondly to-day,
Were to change by to-morrow, and fleet in my arms,
  Like fairy-gifts fading away,
Thou wouldst still be adored, as this moment thou art,
  Let thy loveliness fade as it...

Poet: Thomas Moore

From “Œlla: A Tragical Interlude”
First Minstrel.THE BUDDING floweret blushes at the light:
  The meads are sprinkled with the yellow hue;
In daisied mantles is the mountain dight;
  The slim young cowslip bendeth with the dew;
The trees enleafèd, into...

Song of Nourmahal in “The Light of the Harem”

“FLY to the desert, fly with me,
Our Arab tents are rude for thee;
But oh! the choice what heart can doubt
Of tents with love or thrones without?

“Our rocks are rough, but smiling there
The acacia...

Poet: Thomas Moore