#Scots
Birds all the summer day Flutter and quarrel Here in the arbour—like Tent of the laurel. Here in the fork
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…
There are men and classes of men t… common herd: the soldier, the sail… unfrequently; the artist rarely; r… the physician almost as a rule. H… is) of our civilisation; and when…
YES, friend, I own these tales o… Smile not, as smiled their flawles… Age—old but yet untamed, for ages Pass and the magic is undiminished… Thus, friend, the tales of the old…
I ASK good things that I detest, With speeches fair; Heed not, I pray Thee, Lord, my… But hear my prayer. I say ill things I would not say…
BEYOND the gates thou gav’st a… I have a larger on my window—sill. A farm, d’ye say? Is this a farm… Where for all woods I spay one tu… And that so rusty, and so small a…
All around the house is the jet—bl… It stares through the window—pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding f… And it moves with the moving flame… Now my little heart goes a beating…
Say not of me, that weakly I decl… The labours of my siers, and fled… The towers we founded and the lamp… To play at home with paper like a… But rather say: In the afternoon…
The stormy evening closes now in v… Loud wails the wind and beats the… While here in sheltered house With fire-ypainted walls, I hear the wind abroad,
Smooth it glides upon its travel, Here a wimple, there a gleam— O the clean gravel! O the smooth stream! Sailing blossoms, silver fishes,
The infinite shining heavens Rose and I saw in the night Uncountable angel stars Showering sorrow and light. I saw them distant as heaven,
WHEN loud by landside streamlets… And clear in the greenwood quires… With sun on the meadows And songs in the shadows Comes again to me
FIXED is the doom; and to the la… Teacher and taught, friend, lover,… Each walks, though near, yet separ… His dear ones shine beyond him lik… We also, love, forever dwell apart…
Bright is the ring of words When the right man rings them, Fair the fall of songs When the singer sings them. Still they are carolled and said —
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,
