#Scots
WHEN one is forty years and seve… Is seven and forty sad years old, He looks not onward for his Heave… The future is too blank and cold, Its pale flowers smell of graveyar…
Mr. MacCall at Cleveland Hall, Sunday evening—date to fix— Fifteenth April, sixty-six, Speech reported and redacted By a fellow much distracted.
He cried out through the night: “Where is the light? Shall nevermore Open Heaven’s door? Oh, I am left
Their eyes met; flashed an instant… That leapt unparring to each other… Jarring convulsion through the inm… Then fell, for they had fully done… She, in the manner of her folk unv…
THE CHURCH stands there beyond… How yearningly I gaze upon its sp… Lifted mysterious through the twil… Dissolving in the sunset’s golden… Or dim as slender incense morn by…
Once in a saintly passion I cried with desperate grief, “O Lord, my heart is black with g… Of sinners I am chief.” Then stooped my guardian angel
‘WHILE the trees grow, While the streams flow, While the winds blow, We will be free: Free as trees growing,
Per me si va nella citta dolente. —Dante Poi di tanto adoprar, di tanti mot… D’ogni celeste, ogni terrena cosa, Girando senza posa,
(AN VERY IDLE IDYLL B… This is the Heath of Hampstead, This is the Dome of Saint Paul’s… Beneath, on the serried house-tops… A chequered luster falls:
NOR did we lack our own right roy… The glory of our peaceful realm an… By no long years of restless trava… By no fierce wars or intrigues bla… Did he attain his superlofty place…
IN the early morning-shine Of a certain day divine, I beheld a Maiden stand With a pitcher in her hand; Whence she poured into a cup
Who has a thing to bring For a gift to our lord the king, Our king all kings above? A young girl brought him love; And he dowered her with shame,
FROM out the house I crept, The house which long had caged my… The mighty City in vast silence s… Dreaming away its tumult, toil, an… But sleep and sleep’s rich dreams…
LOVE’S DAWN Still thine eyes haunt me; in the… The dreamtime, the hushed stillnes… I see them shining pure and earnes… And here, all lonely, may I not a…
He came to the desert of London t… Gray miles long; He wandered up and he wandered dow… Singing a quiet song. He came to the desert of London t…
