#Scots
Eastwards through busy streets I… Jostled by anxious crowds, who, he… Were so absorbed in dreams of Mam… That they could spare no time to l… The sunset’s gold and crimson fire…
FROM the midst of the fire I fli… These arrows of fire to you: If they sing, and burn, and sting, You feel how I burn too; But if they reach you there
He cried out through the night: “Where is the light? Shall nevermore Open Heaven’s door? Oh, I am left
Would some little joy to-day Visit us, heart! Could it but a moment stay, Then depart, With the flutter of its wings
O antique fables! beautiful and br… And joyous with the joyous youth o… O antique fables! for a little lig… Of that which shineth in you everm… To cleanse the dimness from our we…
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…
SHE was so good, and he was so ba… A very pretty time they had! A pretty time, and it lasted long: Which of the two was more in the w… He befouled in the slough of sin;
Sleepless himself to give to other… He giveth His beloved sleep. I HEARD the sounding of the mid… The others one by one had left the… In calm assurance that the graciou…
LAST evening’s huge lax clouds o… Grew dark and louring, burthened w… Which that long wind monotonous al… Swept clashing loud through Dream… Until my spirit in fatigue’s despi…
WHAT would you have? said I; ’Tis so easy to go and die, ’Tis so hard to stay and live, In this alien peace and this comfo… Where only the murderers get the g…
WHAT are these leaves dark-spott… ‘A very holy herb.’ To what good use may I this herb… 'Press it on thy soul’s hurt.’ When herb unto the hurt I thus ap…
I SAW thee once, I see thee now; Thy pure young face, thy noble mie… Thy truthful eyes, thy radiant bro… All childlike, lovely, and serene; Rapt in harmonious visions proud,
The fire that filled my heart of o… Gave luster while it burned; Now only ashes gray and cold Are in its silence urned. Ah! better was the furious flame,
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
‘WHILE the trees grow, While the streams flow, While the winds blow, We will be free: Free as trees growing,