#ScottishWriters
Over the borders, a sin without pa… Breaking the branches and crawling… Out through the breach in the wall… Down by the banks of the river we… Here is a mill with the humming of…
For the long nights you lay awake And watched for my unworthy sake: For your most comfortable hand That led me through the uneven lan… For all the story—books you read:
HERE in the quiet eve My thankful eyes receive The quiet light. I see the trees stand fair Against the faded air,
NOW when the number of my years Is all fulfilled, and I From sedentary life Shall rouse me up to die, Bury me low and let me lie
Apologetic Postscript Of A Year… IF you see this song, my dear, And last year’s toast, I’m confoundedly in fear You’ll be serious and severe
(Whan the dear doctor, dear to a’, Was still amang us here belaw, I set my pipes his praise to blaw Wi’ a’ my speerit; But noo, Dear Doctor! he’s awa’,
Sonnet VIII As Daniel, bird—alone, in that fa… Kneeling in fervent prayer, with h… Turned thro’ the casement toward t… Or as untamed Elijah, that red br…
THE broad sun, The bright day: White sails On the blue bay: The far—farers
THE angler rose, he took his rod, He kneeled and made his prayers to… The living God sat overhead: The angler tripped, the eels were…
Come up here, O dusty feet! Here is fairy ready to eat. Here in my retiring room, Children, you may dine On the golden smell of broom
Though he, that ever kind and true… Kept stoutly step by step with you… Your whole long, gusty lifetime th… Be gone a while before, Be now a moment gone before,
I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited… Or feigned to visit, now, my day b… Do slumber wholly; nor shall know… The weariness of changes; nor perc… Immeasurable sands of centuries
Then the bright lamp is carried in… The sunless hours again begin; O’er all without, in field and lan… The haunted night returns again. Now we behold the embers flee
WITH caws and chirrupings, the w… In this thin sun rejoice. The Psalm seems but the little ki… That sings with its own voice. The cloud—rifts share their amber…
THE cock’s clear voice into the c… Where westward far I roam, Mounts with a thrill of hope, Falls with a sigh of home. A rural sentry, he from farm and f…