#Scots
THE wind is without there and how… And the rain—flurries drum on the… Alone by the fireside with elbows… I can number the hours as they pas… Yet now, when to cheer me the cric…
YOU fear, Ligurra– above all, yo… That I should smite you with a st… This dreadful honour you both fear… Both all in vain: you fall below m… The Lybian lion tears the roaring…
The strong man’s hand, the snow—co… The certain—footed sympathies of y… These, and that lofty passion afte… Hunger unsatisfied in priest or sa… Or the great men of former years,…
GO, little book– the ancient phra… And still the daintiest– go your w… My Otto, over sea and land, Till you shall come to Nelly’s ha… How shall I your Nelly know?
About my fields, in the broad sun And blaze of noon, there goeth one… Barefoot and robed in blue, to sca… With the hard eye of the husbandma… My harvests and my cattle. Her,
A child should always say what’s t… And speak when he is spoken to, And behave mannerly at table; At least as far as he is able.
TEMPEST tossed and sore afflict… Come to me, all ye that labour; co… Fear no more, O doubting hearted;… Lo, the voice of your redeemer; lo… Here one hour you toil and combat,…
Of all my verse, like not a single… But like my title, for it is not m… That title from a better man I st… Ah, how much better, had I stol’n…
A lover of the moorland bare, And honest country winds, you were… The silver-skimming rain you took; And loved the floodings of the bro… Dew, frost and mountains, fire and…
OUR Johnie’s deid. The mair’s th… He’s deid, an’ deid o’ Aqua—vitae… O Embro’, you’re a shrunken city, Noo Johnie’s deid! Tak hands, an’ sing a burial ditty
TO what shall I compare her, That is as fair as she? For she is fairer —fairer Than the sea. What shall be likened to her,
The tropics vanish, and meseems th… From Halkerside, from topmost All… Or steep Caerketton, dreaming gaz… Far set in fields and woods, the t… Spring gallant from the shallows o…
God, if this were enough, That I see things bare to the buf… And up to the buttocks in mire; That I ask nor hope nor hire, Nut in the husk,
Friend, in my mountain-side demesn… My plain-beholding, rosy, green And linnet-haunted garden-ground, Let still the esculents abound. Let first the onion flourish there…
HAD I the power that have the wi… The enfeebled will– a modern curse… This book of mine should blossom s… A perfect garden—ground of verse. White placid marble gods should ke…