His poems were never offered for publication, although critical essays
of his appeared from time to time, as for instance in the "London" of
Henley and Stevenson. The Songs and Sonnets were written for his own
satisfaction, and were sent to a few faithful friends and to members of
his own family, who have allowed me to collect and print them. The
miscellaneous verses were in many instances found in letters, and others
written in high spirits were rescued after his death from sketch books
and scraps of paper by his daughter, Kate Runciman Sellers, and by his
friend, Edward Nisbet.

W.R.




SONGS




I.


Though here fair blooms the rose and the woodbine waves on high,
And oak and elm and bracken frond enrich the rolling lea,
And winds as if from Arcady breathe joy as they go by,
Yet I yearn and I pine for my North Countrie.

I leave the drowsing south and in dreams I northward fly,