'T was on a Holy Thursday, their innocent faces clean 'T was on a lofty vase's side

'T was when the seas were roaring

Twelve days were past, and now the dawning light

Upon a simmer Sunday morn

Uprose the King of Men with speed

Wee, modest, crimson-tippèd flow'r

Wee, sleekit, cowrin, tim'rous beastie

Well, then, the promised hour is come at last

What dire offence from am'rous causes springs

When chapman billies leave the street.

When civil fury first grew high

When Cromwell fought for pow'r, and while he reigned
When Music, heav'nly maid, was young

While some affect the sun, and some the shade
Whom passed we musing near the woodman's shed
With horns and hounds I waken the day
Would I describe a preacher, such as Paul

Ye banks and braes and streams around
Ye distant spires, ye antique towers

Works edited by WALTER C. BRONSON and published by the University of Chicago Press

ENGLISH POEMS

OLD ENGLISH AND MIDDLE
ENGLISH PERIODS

THE ELIZABETHAN AGE AND
THE PURITAN PERIOD

THE RESTORATION AND THE
EIGHTEENTH CENTURY

THE NINETEENTH CENTURY

AMERICAN PROSE

AMERICAN POEMS