O mother, lay your hand on my brow

In Memoriam F. A. S.

Yet, O stricken heart, remember, O remember

To my Father

Peace and her huge invasion to these shores

In the States

With half a heart I wander here

A Portrait

I am a kind of farthing dip

Sing clearlier, Muse, or evermore be still

A Camp

The bed was made, the room was fit

The Country of the Camisards

We travelled in the print of olden wars

Skerryvore

For love of lovely words, and for the sake

Skerryvore: The Parallel

Here all is sunny, and when the truant gull

My house, I say. But hark to the sunny doves

My body which my dungeon is

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