The Poetry Of A Root Crop

"Over the camp-fires     Drank I with heroes,     Under the Donau bank,     Warm in the snow trench:     Sagamen heard I there,     Men of the"

"I would have loved:    there are no mates in heaven;     I would be great:    there is no pride in heaven;     I would have sung, as doth the ni"

"He wiled me through the furzy croft;          He wiled me down the sandy lane.     He told his boy's love, soft and oft,          Until I told"

"And should she die, her grave should be Upon the bare top of a sunny hill, Among the moorlands of her own fair land, Amid a ring of old and moss-grown"

"Here morning in the ploughman's songs is met     Ere yet one footstep shows in all the sky,     And twilight in the east, a doubt as yet,     S"

"The Text is taken from Percy's Reliques (1765), vol. i. p. 71, 'given from two MS. copies, transmitted from Scotland.' Herd had a very similar bal"