Duncan Gray

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1. 389. Song-Duncan Gray DUNCAN GRAY cam’ here to woo, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, On blythe Yule-night when we were fou, Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, Maggie coost her head fu’ heigh, Look’d asklent and unco skeigh, Gart poor Duncan stand abeigh; Ha, ha, the wooing o’t. Duncan fleech’d and Duncan pray’d; Ha, ha, the wooing o’t, Meg […]...
2. 216. Song-Duncan Davison THERE was a lass, they ca’d her Meg, And she held o’er the moors to spin; There was a lad that follow’d her, They ca’d him Duncan Davison. The moor was dreigh, and Meg was skeigh, Her favour Duncan could na win; For wi’ the rock she wad him knock, And aye she shook the […]...
3. 510. Song-Fragment-Wee Willie Gray WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet, Peel a willow wand to be him boots and jacket; The rose upon the breir will be him trews an’ doublet, The rose upon the breir will be him trews an’ doublet, Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet, Twice a lily-flower will be him sark and cravat; […]...
4. 55. The Twa Herds; or, The Holy Tulyie O A’ ye pious godly flocks, Weel fed on pastures orthodox, Wha now will keep you frae the fox, Or worrying tykes? Or wha will tent the waifs an’ crocks, About the dykes? The twa best herds in a’ the wast, The e’er ga’e gospel horn a blast These five an’ twenty simmers past- Oh, […]...
5. 296. The Five Carlins: An Election Ballad THERE was five Carlins in the South, They fell upon a scheme, To send a lad to London town, To bring them tidings hame. Nor only bring them tidings hame, But do their errands there, And aiblins gowd and honor baith Might be that laddie’s share. There was Maggy by the banks o’ Nith, A […]...
6. The Old Gray Wall Time out of mind I have stood Fronting the frost and the sun, That the dream of the world might endure, And the goodly will be done. Did the hand of the builder guess, As he laid me stone by stone, A heart in the granite lurked, Patient and fond as his own? Lovers have […]...
7. Gray Eyes It was April when you came The first time to me, And my first look in your eyes Was like my first look at the sea. We have been together Four Aprils now Watching for the green On the swaying willow bough; Yet whenever I turn To your gray eyes over me, It is as […]...
8. Gray Room Although you sit in a room that is gray, Except for the silver Of the straw-paper, And pick At your pale white gown; Or lift one of the green beads Of your necklace, To let it fall; Or gaze at your green fan Printed with the red branches of a red willow; Or, with one […]...
9. On Gray Eyes Looke how the russet morne exceeds the night, How sleekest Jett yields to the di’monds light, So farr the glory of the gray-bright eye Out-vyes the black in lovely majesty. A morning mantl’d with a fleece of gray Laughs from her brow and shewes a spotlesse day: This di’mond-like doth not his lustre owe To […]...
10. George Gray I have studied many times The marble which was chiseled for me A boat with a furled sail at rest in a harbor. In truth it pictures not my destination But my life. For love was offered me and I shrank from its disillusionment; Sorrow knocked at my door, but I was afraid; Ambition called […]...
11. Oh, Gray And Tender Is The Rain Oh, gray and tender is the rain, That drips, drips on the pane! A hundred things come in the door, The scent of herbs, the thought of yore. I see the pool out in the grass, A bit of broken glass; The red flags running wet and straight, Down to the little flapping gate. Lombardy […]...
12. Finding A Long Gray Hair I scrub the long floorboards In the kitchen, repeating The motions of other women Who have lived in this house. And when I find a long gray hair Floating in the pail, I feel my life added to theirs....
13. What the Gray-Winged Fairy Said The moon’s a gong, hung in the wild, Whose song the fays hold dear. Of course you do not hear it, child. It takes a FAIRY ear. The full moon is a splendid gong That beats as night grows still. It sounds above the evening song Of dove or whippoorwill....
14. Faithless Nelly Gray A Pathetic Ballad Ben Battle was a soldier bold, And used to war’s alarms; But a cannon-ball took off his legs, So he laid down his arms. Now as they bore him off the field, Said he, ‘Let others shoot; For here I leave my second leg, And the Forty-second Foot.’ The army-surgeons made him […]...
15. Degrees Of Gray In Philipsburg You might come here Sunday on a whim. Say your life broke down. The last good kiss You had was years ago. You walk these streets Laid out by the insane, past hotels That didn’t last, bars that did, the tortured try Of local drivers to accelerate their lives. Only churches are kept up. The […]...
16. Bells Of Gray Crystal Bells of gray crystal Break on each bough The swans’ breath will mist all The cold airs now. Like tall pagodas Two people go, Trail their long codas Of talk through the snow. Lonely are these And lonely and I…. The clouds, gray Chinese geese Sleek through the sky....
17. 414. Impromptu on Dumourier's Desertion of the French Republican Army YOU’RE welcome to Despots, Dumourier; You’re welcome to Despots, Dumourier: How does Dampiere do? Ay, and Bournonville too? Why did they not come along with you, Dumourier? I will fight France with you, Dumourier; I will fight France with you, Dumourier; I will fight France with you, I will take my chance with you; By […]...
18. 96. The Inventory SIR, as your mandate did request, I send you here a faithfu’ list, O’ gudes an’ gear, an’ a’ my graith, To which I’m clear to gi’e my aith. Imprimis, then, for carriage cattle, I hae four brutes o’ gallant mettle, As ever drew afore a pettle. My hand-afore ‘s a guid auld has-been, An’ […]...
19. Now Art Has Lost Its Mental Charms ‘Now Art has lost its mental charms France shall subdue the world in arms.’ So spoke an Angel at my birth; Then said ‘Descend thou upon earth, Renew the Arts on Britain’s shore, And France shall fall down and adore. With works of art their armies meet And War shall sink beneath thy feet. But […]...
20. 59. Death and Dr. Hornbook SOME books are lies frae end to end, And some great lies were never penn’d: Ev’n ministers they hae been kenn’d, In holy rapture, A rousing whid at times to vend, And nail’t wi’ Scripture. But this that I am gaun to tell, Which lately on a night befell, Is just as true’s the Deil’s […]...
21. 390. Song-A Health to them that's awa HERE’S a health to them that’s awa, Here’s a health to them that’s awa; And wha winna wish gude luck to our cause, May never gude luck be their fa’! It’s gude to be merry and wise, It’s gude to be honest and true; It’s gude to support Caledonia’s cause, And bide by the buff […]...
22. 512. Song-Guid ale keeps the heart aboon Chorus-O gude ale comes and gude ale goes; Gude ale gars me sell my hose, Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon- Gude ale keeps my heart aboon! I HAD sax owsen in a pleugh, And they drew a’ weel eneugh: I sell’d them a’ just ane by ane- Gude ale keeps the heart aboon! […]...
23. A Chaucerian Paraphrase of Horace Syn that you, Chloe, to your moder sticken, Maketh all ye yonge bacheloures full sicken; Like as a lyttel deere you ben y-hiding Whenas come lovers with theyre pityse chiding; Sothly it ben faire to give up your moder For to beare swete company with some oder; Your moder ben well enow so farre shee […]...
24. Ye Carpette Knyghte I have a horse – a ryghte good horse – Ne doe Y envye those Who scoure ye playne yn headye course Tyll soddayne on theyre nose They lyghte wyth unexpected force Yt ys – a horse of clothes. I have a saddel – “Say’st thou soe? Wyth styrruppes, Knyghte, to boote?” I sayde not […]...
25. Futility Move him into the sun Gently its touch awoke him once, At home, whispering of fields unsown. Always it woke him, even in France, Until this morning and this snow. If anything might rouse him now The kind old sun will know. Think how it wakes the seeds Woke, once, the clays of a cold […]...
26. 27. The Death and Dying Words of Poor Mailie AS Mailie, an’ her lambs thegither, Was ae day nibbling on the tether, Upon her cloot she coost a hitch, An’ owre she warsl’d in the ditch: There, groaning, dying, she did lie, When Hughoc he cam doytin by. Wi’ glowrin een, and lifted han’s Poor Hughoc like a statue stan’s; He saw her days […]...
27. Armistice Day (1953) Don’t jeer because we celebrate Armistice Day, Though thirty years of sorry fate Have passed away. Though still we gaurd the Sacred Flame, And fly the Flag, That World War Two with grief and shame Revealed a rag. For France cannot defend to-day Her native land; And she is far to proud to pray For […]...
28. 547. Verses to Collector Mitchell FRIEND of the Poet, tried and leal, Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal; Alake, alake, the meikle deil Wi’ a’ his witches Are at it skelpin jig and reel, In my poor pouches? I modestly fu’ fain wad hint it, That One-pound-one, I sairly want it; If wi’ the hizzie down ye sent it, […]...
29. Katie Drummond My Louis loved me oh so well And spiered me for his wife; He would have haled me from the hell That was my bawdy life: The mother of his bairns to be, Daftlike he saw in me. But I, a hizzie of the town Just telt him we must part; Loving too well to […]...
30. The Receptionist France is the fairest land on earth, Lovely to heart’s desire, And twice a year I span its girth, Its beauty to admire. But when a pub I seek each night, To my profound vexation On form they hand me I’ve to write My occupation. So once in a derisive mood My pen I nibbled; […]...
31. The fascinating chill that music leaves The fascinating chill that music leaves Is Earth’s corroboration Of Ecstasy’s impediment ‘Tis Rapture’s germination In timid and tumultuous soil A fine estranging creature To something upper wooing us But not to our Creator...
32. Victor Hugo Heart of France for a hundred years, Passionate, sensitive, proud, and strong, Quick to throb with her hopes and fears, Fierce to flame with her sense of wrong! You, who hailed with a morning song Dream-light gilding a throne of old: You, who turned when the dream grew cold, Singing still, to the light that […]...
33. 66. Elegy on the Death of Robert Ruisseaux NOW Robin 1 lies in his last lair, He’ll gabble rhyme, nor sing nae mair; Cauld poverty, wi’ hungry stare, Nae mair shall fear him; Nor anxious fear, nor cankert care, E’er mair come near him. To tell the truth, they seldom fash’d him, Except the moment that they crush’d him; For sune as chance […]...
34. Death is the supple Suitor Death is the supple Suitor That wins at last It is a stealthy Wooing Conducted first By pallid innuendoes And dim approach But brave at last with Bugles And a bisected Coach It bears away in triumph To Troth unknown And Kindred as responsive As Porcelain....
35. The Name of France Give us a name to fill the mind With the shining thoughts that lead mankind, The glory of learning, the joy of art, A name that tells of a splendid part In the long, long toil and the strenuous fight Of the human race to win its way From the feudal darkness into the day […]...
36. 127. Stanzas on Naething TO you, sir, this summons I’ve sent, Pray, whip till the pownie is freathing; But if you demand what I want, I honestly answer you-naething. Ne’er scorn a poor Poet like me, For idly just living and breathing, While people of every degree Are busy employed about-naething. Poor Centum-per-centum may fast, And grumble his hurdies […]...
37. THE IRISH GUARDS 1918 We’re not so old in the Army List, But we’re not so young at our trade, For we had the honour at Fontenoy Of meeting the Guards’Brigade. ‘Twas Lally, Dillon, Bulkeley, Clare, And Lee that led us then, And after a hundred and seventy years We’re fighting for France again! Old Days! The wild […]...
38. LOUIS NAPOLEON Eagle of Austerlitz! where were thy wings When far away upon a barbarous strand, In fight unequal, by an obscure hand, Fell the last scion of thy brood of Kings! Poor boy! thou shalt not flaunt thy cloak of red, Or ride in state through Paris in the van Of thy returning legions, but instead […]...
39. Coronach He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font, reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes no cheering, To Duncan no morrow! The hand of the reaper Takes the ears that are hoary, But the voice of […]...
40. Jeanne d'Arc Returns 1914-1916 What hast thou done, O womanhood of France, Mother and daughter, sister, sweetheart, wife, What hast thou done, amid this fateful strife, To prove the pride of thine inheritance In this fair land of freedom and romance? I hear thy voice with tears and courage rife, Smiling against the swords that seek thy life, […]...