‘Come, children, put away your toy… Roll up that kite’s long line; The day is done for girls and boys… Look, it is almost nine! Come, weary foot, and sleepy head,

I lay and dreamed. The master cam… In his old woven dress; I stood in joy, and yet in shame, Oppressed with earthliness. He stretched his arms, and gently…

‘Death, whaur do ye bide, auld De… ‘I bide in ilka breath,’ Quo’ Death; ‘No i’ the pyramids, No whaur the wormie rids

Whan Andrew frae Strathbogie gaed The lift was lowerin dreary, The sun he wadna raise his heid, The win’ blew laich and eerie. In’s pooch he had a plack or twa–

‘And yet it moves!’ Ah, Truth, wh… When all for thee they racked each… Wert thou in heaven, and busy with… When those poor hands convulsed th… Art thou a phantom that deceives!…

There is a river whose waters run asleep run run ever singing in the shallows dumb in the hollows

A power is on me, and my soul must… To thee, thou grey, grey man, whom… With those white-headed children.… To commune with thy setting, and t… My doubts on thy grey hair; for I…

‘Little one, who straight hast com… Down the heavenly stair, Tell us all about your home, And the father there.’ ‘He is such a one as I,

His face, his words, her heart awo… Awoke her slumbering truth; She judged him well; her bonds she… And fled to him for ruth. With tears she washed his weary fe…

Lie down upon the ground, thou hop… Press thy face in the grass, and d… Dost feel the green globe whirl?… Climbeth she out of darkness to th… Which is her God; seven times she…

Who know thee, love: thy life be s… That, ere the year be o’er, Each one who loves thee now so muc… Even God, may love thee more!

Alas, ’tis cold and dark! The wind all night hath sung a win… Hail from black clouds that swallo… Beat, beat against my bark. Oh! why delays the spring?

There was John Gordon an’ Archib… An’ a yerl’s twin sons war they; Quhan they war are an’ twenty year… They fell oot on their ae birthday… ‘Turn ye, John Gordon, nae brithe…

Sighing above, Rustling below, Thorough the woods The winds go. Beneath, dead crowds;

Oh, melancholy fragment of the nig… Drawing thy lazy web against the s… Thou shouldst have waited till the… With kindred glooms to build thy f… Sublime amid the ruins of the ligh…