How fast has brother followed brother, From sunshine to the sunless land!

Nature never did betray the heart that loved her.

The light that never was, on sea or land; The consecration, and the Poet's dream.

Through primrose tufts, in that sweet bower, The periwinkle trailed its wreaths; And 'tis my faith that every flower Enjoys the air it breathes.

Fear is a cloak which old men huddle about their love, as if to keep it warm.

The clouds that gather round the setting sun, Do take a sober colouring from an eye, That hath kept watch o'er man's mortality.

Let beeves and home-bred kine partake The sweets of Burn-mill meadow; The swan on still St. Mary's Lake Float double, swan and shadow!