#Scots
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!…
Per me si va nella citta dolente. —Dante Poi di tanto adoprar, di tanti mot… D’ogni celeste, ogni terrena cosa, Girando senza posa,
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,
“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…
IN the early morning-shine Of a certain day divine, I beheld a Maiden stand With a pitcher in her hand; Whence she poured into a cup
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…
WHAT are these leaves dark-spott… ‘A very holy herb.’ To what good use may I this herb… 'Press it on thy soul’s hurt.’ When herb unto the hurt I thus ap…
THE WHITE-ROSE garland at he… The crown of laurel at her head, Her noble life on earth complete, Lay her in the last low bed For the slumber calm and deep:
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,
For I must sing of all I feel and… Waiting with Memnon passive near… Until the heavenly light doth dawn… And thrill my silence into mystic… From unknown realms the wind strea…
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
Give a man a horse he can ride, Give a man a boat he can sail; And his rank and wealth, his stren… On sea nor shore shall fail. Give a man a pipe he can smoke,
This field of stones, he said, May well call forth a sigh; Beneath them lie the dead, On them the living lie.
(AN VERY IDLE IDYLL B… This is the Heath of Hampstead, This is the Dome of Saint Paul’s… Beneath, on the serried house-tops… A chequered luster falls: