CONTENTS
| PAGE | ||
| XXXI. | 144 | |
| Sing clearlier, Muse, or evermore be still | ||
| XXXII. | A Camp | 144 |
| The bed was made, the room was fit | ||
| XXXIII. | The Country of the Camisards | 144 |
| We travelled in the print of olden wars | ||
| XXXIV. | Skerryvore | 145 |
| For love of lovely words, and for the sake | ||
| XXXV. | Skerryvore: the Parallel | 145 |
| Here all is sunny, and when the truant gull | ||
| XXXVI. | 146 | |
| My house, I say. But hark to the sunny doves | ||
| XXXVII. | 146 | |
| My body which my dungeon is | ||
| XXXVIII. | 147 | |
| Say not of me that weakly I declined | ||
| XXXIX. | Dedicatory Poem | 148 |
100
