Andrew Lang Poems

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Andrew Lang
Andrew Lang (March 31, 1844, Selkirk July 20, 1912, Banchory, Kincardineshire) was a prolific Scots man of letters. He was a poet, novelist, and literary critic, and contributor to anthropology. He now is best known as the collector of folk and fairy tales. The Andrew Lang lectures at St Andrews University are named for him. Lang was the eldest of the eight children of John Lang, town clerk of Selkirk, and his wife, Jane Plenderleath Sellar, daughter of Patrick Sellar, factor to the first duke of Sutherland. On April 17, 1875 he married Leonora Blanche Alleyne, youngest daughter of C. T. Alleyne of Clifton and Barbados. They had no children. He was educated at Selkirk grammar school, and at the Edinburgh Academy, St Andrews University and at Balliol College, Oxford, where he took a first class in the final classical schools in 1868, becoming a fellow and subsequently honorary fellow of Merton College. As a journalist, poet, critic and historian, he soon made a reputation as one of the ablest and most versatile writers of the day. He died of angina pectoris at the Tor-na-Coille Hotel in Banchory, survived by his wife. He was buried in the cathedral precincts at St Andrews.

the new ezekiel
What, can these dead bones live, whose sap is dried
By twenty scorching centuries of wrong?... [read poem]
for a poet
I have wrapped my dreams in a silken cloth,
And laid them away in a box of gold;
Where lon... [read poem]
jacobite 'auld lang syne'
Shall ancient freedom be forgot
And the auld Stuart line?
Shall ancient freedom be for... [read poem]
If the wild bowler thinks he bowls,
Or if the batsman thinks he's bowled,
They know not,... [read poem]
the crowing of the red cock
Across the Eastern sky has glowed
The flicker of a blood-red dawn,
Once more the clario... [read poem]
for john keats, apostle of beauty
Not writ in water nor in mist,
Sweet lyric throat, thy name.
Thy singing lips that cold de... [read poem]
in the jewish synagogue at newport
Here, where the noises of the busy town,
The ocean's plunge and roar can enter not,
We ... [read poem]
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