Robert F. Murray (Author of the Scarlet Gown): His Poems; with a Memoir

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Lang Andrew. Robert F. Murray (Author of the Scarlet Gown): His Poems; with a Memoir

R. F. MURRAY – 1863-1893

THE WASTER SINGING AT MIDNIGHT. AFTER LONGFELLOW

TO NUMBER 27x

THE WASTER’S PRESENTIMENT

A DECEMBER DAY

ΑΙΕΝ ΑΡΙΣΤΕΥΕΙΝ

IMITATED FROM WORDSWORTH

A TENNYSONIAN FRAGMENT

MOONLIGHT NORTH AND SOUTH

WINTER AT ST. ANDREWS

PATRIOTISM

SLEEP FLIES ME

LOVE’S PHANTOM

COME BACK TO ST. ANDREWS

THE SOLITARY

TO ALFRED TENNYSON – 1883

ICHABOD

AT A HIGH CEREMONY

THE WASTED DAY

INDOLENCE

DAWN SONG

CAIRNSMILL DEN – TUNE: ‘A ROVING’

A LOST OPPORTUNITY

THE CAGED THRUSH

MIDNIGHT

WHERE’S THE USE

A MAY-DAY MADRIGAL

SONG IS NOT DEAD

A SONG OF TRUCE

ONE TEAR

A LOVER’S CONFESSION

TRAFALGAR SQUARE

A SUMMER MORNING

WELCOME HOME

AN INVITATION

FICKLE SUMMER

SORROW’S TREACHERY

THE CROWN OF YEARS

HOPE DEFERRED

THE LIFE OF EARTH

GOLDEN DREAM

TEARS

THE HOUSE OF SLEEP

THE OUTCAST’S FAREWELL

YET A LITTLE SLEEP

LOST LIBERTY

AN AFTERTHOUGHT

TO J. R

THE TEMPTED SOUL

YOUTH RENEWED

VANITY OF VANITIES

LOVE’S WORSHIP RESTORED

BELOW HER WINDOW

REQUIEM

THOU ART QUEEN

IN TIME OF DOUBT

THE GARDEN OF SIN

URSULA

UNDESIRED REVENGE

POETS

A PRESENTIMENT

A BIRTHDAY GIFT

CYCLAMEN

LOVE RECALLED IN SLEEP

FOOTSTEPS IN THE STREET

FOR A PRESENT OF ROSES

IN TIME OF SORROW

A NEW SONG TO AN OLD TUNE – FROM VICTOR HUGO

THE FIDDLER

THE FIRST MEETING

A CRITICISM OF CRITICS

MY LADY

PARTNERSHIP IN FAME

A CHRISTMAS FANCY

THE BURIAL OF WILLIAM THE CONQUEROR

THE DEATH OF WILLIAM RUFUS

AFTER WATERLOO

DEATH AT THE WINDOW

MAKE-BELIEVES

A COINCIDENCE

ART’S DISCIPLINE

THE TRUE LIBERAL

A LATE GOOD NIGHT

AN EXILE’S SONG

FOR SCOTLAND

THE HAUNTED CHAMBER

NIGHTFALL

IN TIME OF SICKNESS

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The following fragment is but doubtfully autobiographical. ‘The swift four-wheeler’ seldom devastates the streets where, of old, the Archbishop’s jackmen sliced Presbyterian professors with the claymore, as James Melville tells us: —

‘I must confess,’ remarks Murray, in a similar spirit of pensive regret, ‘that I have not had any ambition to distinguish myself either in Knight’s (Moral Philosophy) or in Butler’s.’ 1

.....

Why not? The philosophers ought to be read in their own language, as they are now read. The remarks on the most fairy of philosophers – Plato; on the greatest of all minds, that of Aristotle, are boyish. Again ‘I speak but brotherly,’ remembering an old St. Leonard’s essay in which Virgil was called ‘the furtive Mantuan,’ and another, devoted to ridicule of Euripides. But Plato and Aristotle we never blasphemed.

Murray adds that he thinks, next year, of taking the highest Greek Class, and English Literature. In the latter, under Mr. Baynes, he took the first place, which he mentions casually to Mrs. Murray about a year after date: —

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