#ScottishWriters
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
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,
Arcane danze D’immortal piede I ruinosi gioghi Scossero e l’ardue selve (oggi rom… Nido de’ venti). LEOPARDI Through the country to the town
Sleepless himself to give to other… He giveth His beloved sleep. I HEARD the sounding of the mid… The others one by one had left the… In calm assurance that the graciou…
FROM out the house I crept, The house which long had caged my… The mighty City in vast silence s… Dreaming away its tumult, toil, an… But sleep and sleep’s rich dreams…
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…
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!…
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
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,
SHE was so good, and he was so ba… A very pretty time they had! A pretty time, and it lasted long: Which of the two was more in the w… He befouled in the slough of sin;
That one long dirge-moan sad and d… Low, muffled by the solemn stress Of such emotion as doth steep The soul in brooding quietness, Befits our anguished time too well…
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,
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…
WHEN one is forty years and seve… Is seven and forty sad years old, He looks not onward for his Heave… The future is too blank and cold, Its pale flowers smell of graveyar…
“Why are your songs all wild and b… As funeral dirges with the orphans… Each night since first the world w… A sequent day to laugh it down the… Chant us a glee to make our hearts…
