CELTIC CAFE
 |   Home |   Statistics  |  Current team  |  Celtic Park  |  League Table  |  Links |  


Scottish Premier League - Season 2006/2007

PlaceClubGamesPoints
1Celtic3884
2Rangers3872
3Aberdeen3865
4Hearts3861
5Kilmarnock3855
6Hibernian3849
7Falkirk3850
8Inverness CT3846
9Dundee Utd3842
10Motherwell3838
11St Mirren3836
12Dunfermline3832



A Portrait
The Book-Hunter
Baudelaire to His Love
I Am the Song of Love
The Fool's Prayer
Full of murmurs
A Poem
Kan-il-Lak the Singer
The Chariot Race
Long Life Not to be Desired
Praise of Colonus
Prayer
The Battle of Blenheim
At the Carnival
Before the Feast of Shushan
A Ditty
The Apothecary's
Moonlight in the Pines
Birkenstock Sandals
Bostonian shoes
Dansko shoes
Etnies shoes

And the young girl mused beside the well,
Till the rain on the unraked clover fell. He wedded a wife of richest dower, Who lived for fashion, as he for power.
Yet oft, in his marble hearth's bright glow, He watched a picture come and go:
Reebook Shoes
Sperry Topsiders
Croc Shoes
And sweet Maud Muller's hazel eyes Looked out in their innocent surprise.
Oft when the wine in his glass was red,
He longed for the wayside well instead; And closed his eyes on his garnished rooms,
To dream of meadows and clover-blooms. And the proud man sighed, with a secret pain,
"Ah, that I were free again! "Free as when I rode that day,
Where the barefoot maiden raked her hay." She wedded a man unlearned and poor, And many children played round her door.
But care and sorrow, and child-birth pain,
Left their traces on heart and brain. And oft, when the summer sun shone hot
On the new-mown hay in the meadow lot, And she heard the little spring brook fall
Over the roadside, through the wall, In the shade of the apple-tree again
She saw a rider draw his rein, And, gazing down with timid grace,
She felt his pleased eyes read her face. Sometimes her narrow kitchen walls Stretched away into stately halls;
The weary wheel to a spinnet turned, The tallow candle an astral burned;
And for him who sat by the chimney lug, Dozing and grumbling o'er pipe and mug,
A manly form at her side she saw, And joy was duty and love was law.
Then she took up her burden of life again,
Saying only, "It might have been." Alas for maiden, alas for Judge,
For rich repiner and household drudge! God pity them both! and pity us all,
Who vainly the dreams of youth recall; For of all sad words of tongue or pen,
The saddest are these: "It might have been!" Ah, well! for us all some sweet hope lies
Deeply buried from human eyes; And, in the hereafter, angels may
Roll the stone from its grave away!
This site is not associated with Celtic FC in any way.