#ScottishWriters
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…
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
Who has a thing to bring For a gift to our lord the king, Our king all kings above? A young girl brought him love; And he dowered her with shame,
He came to the desert of London t… Gray miles long; He wandered up and he wandered dow… Singing a quiet song. He came to the desert of London t…
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,
Mr. MacCall at Cleveland Hall, Sunday evening—date to fix— Fifteenth April, sixty-six, Speech reported and redacted By a fellow much distracted.
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…
As we rush, as we rush in the Tra… The trees and the houses go wheeli… But the starry heavens above the p… Come flying on our track. All the beautiful stars of the sky…
THROUGH foulest fogs of my own… Through midnight glooms of all the… Through sulphurous cannon-clouds t… Above the steam of blood in anger… Through all the sombre earth-oppre…
In the endless nights, from my bed… I startle the stillness and gloom… 0 Love! 0 Beloved long lost! come… For my heart is wasting and dying… Come down for a moment! oh, come!…
What precious thing are you making… In all these silken lines? And where and to whom will it go a… Such subtle knots and twines! I am tying up all my love in this,
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…
He cried out through the night: “Where is the light? Shall nevermore Open Heaven’s door? Oh, I am left
A near the dying of that royal day Those amber-vested hills began to… And soon a lofty Pharos, gleaming… Upon its isle set darkly in the li… Beckoned us onward to the spacious…
Once in a saintly passion I cried with desperate grief, “O Lord, my heart is black with g… Of sinners I am chief.” Then stooped my guardian angel
