#Scots #XIXCentury
’Tis we, not in thine arms, who we… The children in thy bosom laugh an…
‘Come, children, put away your toy… Roll up that kite’s long line; The day is done for girls and boys… Look, it is almost nine! Come, weary foot, and sleepy head,
Make not of thy heart a casket, Opening seldom, quick to close; But of bread a wide-mouthed basket… Or a cup that overflows.
The stars cleave the sky. Yet for us they rest, And their race-course high Is a shining nest! The hours hurry on.
Back shining from the pane, the fi… Seems outside in the snow: So love set free from love’s desir… Lights grief of long ago. The dark is thinned with snow-shee…
O Lord, my God, how long Shall my poor heart pant for a bou… How long, O mighty Spirit, shall… The murmur of Truth’s crystal wat… From the deep caverns of their end…
I waited for the Master In the darkness dumb; Light came fast and faster– My light did not come! I waited all the daylight,
Go not forth to call Dame Sorrow From the dim fields of Tomorrow; Let her roam there all unheeded, She will come when she is needed; Then, when she draws near thy door…
Who know thee, love: thy life be s… That, ere the year be o’er, Each one who loves thee now so muc… Even God, may love thee more!
‘What maks ye sae canty, granny de… Has some kin’ body been for ye to… Ye luik as smilin an’ fain an’ wil… As gien ye had fun a bonny shillin… ‘Ye think I luik canty, my bonny…
December 28, 1879 A dim, vague shrinking haunts my s… My spirit bodeth ill– As some far-off restraining bank Had burst, and waters, many a rank…
I am weary, and very lonely, And can but think-think. If there were some water only That a spirit might drink-drink, And arise,
’Tis time to sleep, my little boy: Why gaze thy bright eyes so? At night our children, for new joy Home to thy father go, But thou art wakeful! Sleep, my c…
‘Little one, who straight hast com… Down the heavenly stair, Tell us all about your home, And the father there.’ ‘He is such a one as I,
With us there is no gray fearing, With us no aching for lack! For the morn it is always nearing, And the night is at our back. At times a song will fall dumb,