The Voice That Sings By Robert Fuller Murray

The Voice That Sings The voice that sings across the night Of long forgotten days and things, Is there an ear to hear aright The…

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Sleep Flies Me By Robert Fuller Murray

Sleep Flies Me Sleep flies me like a lover Too eagerly pursued, Or like a bird to cover Within some distant wood, Where thickest boughs…

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For A Present Of Roses By Robert Fuller Murray

For A Present Of Roses Crimson and cream and white – My room is a garden of roses! Centre and left and right, Three several…

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A December Day By Robert Fuller Murray

A December Day Blue, blue is the sea to-day, Warmly the light Sleeps on St. Andrews Bay — Blue, fringed with white. That’s no December…

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Youth Renewed By Robert Fuller Murray

Youth Renewed When one who has wandered out of the way Which leads to the hills of joy, Whose heart has grown both cold and…

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The Haunted Chamber By Robert Fuller Murray

The Haunted Chamber Life is a house where many chambers be, And all the doors will yield to him who tries, Save one, whereof men…

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Music For The Dying By Robert Fuller Murray

Music For The Dying Ye who will help me in my dying pain, Speak not a word: let all your voices cease. Let me but…

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An Orator’s Complaint By Robert Fuller Murray

An Orator’s Complaint How many the troubles that wait On mortals!—especially those Who endeavour in eloquent prose To expound their views, and orate. Did you…

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Ursula By Robert Fuller Murray

Ursula There is a village in a southern land, By rounded hills closed in on every hand. The streets slope steeply to the market-square, Long…

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The City Of Golf By Robert Fuller Murray

The City Of Golf Would you like to see a city given over, Soul and body, to a tyrannising game? If you would, there’s little…

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In Time Of Sorrow By Robert Fuller Murray

In Time Of Sorrow Despair is in the suns that shine, And in the rains that fall, This sad forsaken soul of mine Is weary…

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A Wasted Day By Robert Fuller Murray

A Wasted Day Another day let slip! Its hours have run, Its golden hours, with prodigal excess, All run to waste. A day of life…

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The True Liberal By Robert Fuller Murray

The True Liberal The truest Liberal is he Who sees the man in each degree, Who merit in a churl can prize, And baseness in…

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Reflections Of A Magistrand By Robert Fuller Murray

Reflections Of A Magistrand on returning to St. Andrews In the hard familiar horse-box I am sitting once again; Creeping back to old St. Andrews…

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Footsteps In The Street By Robert Fuller Murray

Footsteps In The Street Oh, will the footsteps never be done? The insolent feet Thronging the street, Forsaken now of the only one. The only…

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A Late Good Night By Robert Fuller Murray

A Late Good Night My lamp is out, my task is done, And up the stair with lingering feet I climb. The staircase clock strikes…

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Welcome Home By Robert Fuller Murray

Welcome Home The fire burns bright And the hearth is clean swept, As she likes it kept, And the lamp is alight. She is coming…

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The House Of Sleep By Robert Fuller Murray

The House Of Sleep When we have laid aside our last endeavour, And said farewell to one or two that weep, And issued from the…

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Milton By Robert Fuller Murray

Milton with apologies to Lord Tennyson O swallow-tailed purveyor of college sprees, O skilled to please the student fraternity, Most honoured publican of Scotland, Milton,…

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Andrew M’crie By Robert Fuller Murray

Andrew M’crie from the unpublished remains of Edgar Allan Poe It was many and many a year ago, In a city by the sea, That…

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To Number 27x By Robert Fuller Murray

To Number 27x Beloved Peeler! friend and guide And guard of many a midnight reeler, None worthier, though the world is wide, Beloved Peeler. Thou…

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The Burial Of William – The Conqueror By Robert Fuller Murray

The Burial Of William – The Conqueror Oh, who may this dead warrior be That to his grave they bring? `Tis William, Duke of Normandy,…

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In Time Of Sickness By Robert Fuller Murray

In Time Of Sickness Lost Youth, come back again! Laugh at weariness and pain. Come not in dreams, but come in truth, Lost Youth. Sweetheart…

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A Summer Morning By Robert Fuller Murray

A Summer Morning Never was sun so bright before, No matin of the lark so sweet, No grass so green beneath my feet, Nor with…

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The Swallows By Robert Fuller Murray

The Swallows From Jean Pierre Claris Florian I love to see the swallows come At my window twittering, Bringing from their southern home News of…

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Requiem By Robert Fuller Murray

Requiem For thee the birds shall never sing again, Nor fresh green leaves come out upon the tree, The brook shall no more murmur the…

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Farewell To A Singer By Robert Fuller Murray

Farewell To A Singer On Her Marriage As those who hear a sweet bird sing, And love each song it sings the best, Grieve when…

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A Criticism Of Critics By Robert Fuller Murray

A Criticism Of Critics How often have the critics, trained To look upon the sky Through telescopes securely chained, Forgot the naked eye. Within the…

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Where’s The Use By Robert Fuller Murray

Where’s The Use Oh, where’s the use of having gifts that can’t be turned to money? And where’s the use of singing, when there’s no…

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The Garden Of Sin By Robert Fuller Murray

The Garden Of Sin I know the garden-close of sin, The cloying fruits, the noxious flowers, I long have roamed the walks and bowers, Desiring…

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Magni Nominnus Umbra By Robert Fuller Murray

Magni Nominnus Umbra St. Andrews! not for ever thine shall be Merely the shadow of a mighty name, The remnant only of an ancient fame…

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An Invitation By Robert Fuller Murray

An Invitation Dear Ritchie, I am waiting for the signal word to fly, And tell me that the visit which has suffered such belating Is…

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To J.R. By Robert Fuller Murray

To J.R. Last Sunday night I read the saddening story Of the unanswered love of fair Elaine, The `faith unfaithful’ and the joyless glory Of…

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The Best Pipe By Robert Fuller Murray

The Best Pipe In vain you fervently extol, In vain you puff, your cutty clay. A twelvemonth smoked and black as coal, ‘Tis redolent of…

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Imitated From Wordsworth By Robert Fuller Murray

Imitated From Wordsworth He brought a team from Inversnaid To play our Third Fifteen, A man whom none of us had played And very few…

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A Street Corner By Robert Fuller Murray

A Street Corner Here, where the thoroughfares meet at an angle Of ninety degrees (this angle is right), You may hear the loafers that jest…

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The Poet’s Hat By Robert Fuller Murray

The Poet’s Hat The rain had fallen, the Poet arose, He passed through the doorway into the street, A strong wind lifted his hat from…

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Poets By Robert Fuller Murray

Poets Children of earth are we, Lovers of land and sea, Of hill, of brook, of tree, Of all things fair; Of all things dark…

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Death At The Window By Robert Fuller Murray

Death At The Window This morning, while we sat in talk Of spring and apple-bloom, Lo! Death stood in the garden walk, And peered into…

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A Christmas Fancy By Robert Fuller Murray

A Christmas Fancy Early on Christmas Day, Love, as awake I lay, And heard the Christmas bells ring sweet and clearly, My heart stole through…

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Vivien’s Song By Robert Fuller Murray

Vivien’s Song at the l.l.a. examination In Algebra, if Algebra be ours, x and x2 can ne’er be equal powers, Unless x=1, or none at…

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The Delights Of Mathematics By Robert Fuller Murray

The Delights Of Mathematics It seems a hundred years or more Since I, with note-book, ink and pen, In cap and gown, first trod the…

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Midnight By Robert Fuller Murray

Midnight The air is dark and fragrant With memories of a shower, And sanctified with stillness By this most holy hour. The leaves forget to…

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An Interview By Robert Fuller Murray

An Interview I met him down upon the pier, His eyes were wild and sad, And something in them made me fear That he was…

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To Alfred Tennyson – 1883 By Robert Fuller Murray

To Alfred Tennyson – 1883 Familiar with thy melody, We go debating of its power, As churls, who hear it hour by hour, Contemn the…

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The Banished Bejant By Robert Fuller Murray

The Banished Bejant from the unpublished remains of Edgar Allan Poe In the oldest of our alleys, By good bejants tenanted, Once a man whose…

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Hymn Of Hippolytus To Artemis By Robert Fuller Murray

Hymn Of Hippolytus To Artemis Artemis! thou fairest Of the maids that be In divine Olympus, Hail! Hail to thee! To thee I bring this…

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A Swinburnian Interlude By Robert Fuller Murray

A Swinburnian Interlude Short space shall be hereafter Ere April brings the hour Of weeping and of laughter, Of sunshine and of shower, Of groaning…

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The Solitary By Robert Fuller Murray

The Solitary I have been lonely all my days on earth, Living a life within my secret soul, With mine own springs of sorrow and…

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Pleasant Prophecies By Robert Fuller Murray

Pleasant Prophecies A day of gladness yet will dawn, Though when I cannot say; Perhaps it may be Thursday week, Perhaps some other day,— When…

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Dawn Song By Robert Fuller Murray

Dawn Song I hear a twittering of birds, And now they burst in song. How sweet, although it wants the words! It shall not want…

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A College Career By Robert Fuller Murray

A College Career I When one is young and eager, A bejant and a boy, Though his moustache be meagre, That cannot mar his joy…

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Yet A Little Sleep By Robert Fuller Murray

Yet A Little Sleep Beside the drowsy streams that creep Within this island of repose, Oh, let us rest from cares and woes, Oh, let…

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The End Of April By Robert Fuller Murray

The End Of April This is the time when larks are singing loud And higher still ascending and more high, This is the time when…

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Moonlight North And South By Robert Fuller Murray

Moonlight North And South Love, we have heard together The North Sea sing his tune, And felt the wind’s wild feather Brush past our cheeks…

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An Exile’s Song By Robert Fuller Murray

An Exile’s Song My soul is like a prisoned lark, That sings and dreams of liberty, The nights are long, the days are dark, Away…

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To C.C.C. By Robert Fuller Murray

To C.C.C. Oh for the nights when we used to sit In the firelight’s glow or flicker, With the gas turned low and our pipes…

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Tears By Robert Fuller Murray

Tears Mourn that which will not come again, The joy, the strength of early years. Bow down thy head, and let thy tears Water the…

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Ichabod By Robert Fuller Murray

Ichabod Gone is the glory from the hills, The autumn sunshine from the mere, Which mourns for the declining year In all her tributary rills….

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A Song Of Truce By Robert Fuller Murray

A Song Of Truce Till the tread of marching feet Through the quiet grass-grown street Of the little town shall come, Soldier, rest awhile at…

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