#Scots
On An Engraving of Scheffer’s Christus Consolator What human form is this? what form… And who are these that gaze upon h… Mild, beautiful, and full of heave…
I.-THIS SIDE AN’ THAT. The rich man sat in his father’s s… Purple an’ linen, an’ a’thing fine… The puir man lay at his yett i’ th… Sairs an’ tatters, an’ weary pine!
The miser lay on his lonely bed; Life’s candle was burning dim. His heart in an iron chest was hid Under heaps of gold and an iron li… And whether it were alive or dead
Doon cam the sunbeams, and up gaed… As we spangt ower the road at ten… The horse wasna timmer, the cart w… And little cared we for the burn o… We war young, and the hert in’s wa…
One is a slow and melancholy maid; I know riot if she cometh from the… Or from the sleepy gulfs, but she… Often before me in the twilight sh… Holding a bunch of poppies and a b…
Ane by ane they gang awa; The getherer gethers grit and sma’… Ane by ane maks ane and a’! Aye whan ane sets doon the cup Ane ahint maun tak it up:
The sky has turned its heart away, The earth its sorrow found; The daisies turn from childhood’s… And creep into the ground. The earth is black and cold and ha…
I do remember how, when very young… I saw the great sea first, and hea… As I drew nearer, caught within t… Of its vast size and its mysteriou… How the floor trembled, and the da…
Still flowed the music, flowed the… The youth in silence went; Through naked streets, in cold moo… His homeward way he bent, Where, on the city’s seaward line,
January 26, 1885 Gordon, the self-refusing, Gordon, the lover of God, Gordon, the good part choosing, Welcome along the road!
Ah, holy midnight of the soul, When stars alone are high; When winds are resting at their go… And sea-waves only sigh! Ambition faints from out the will;
God gives his child upon his slate… To find eternity in hours and year… With both sides covered, back the… His dim eyes swollen with shed and… God smiles, wipes clean the upper…
They come to thee, the halt, the m… The devil-torn, the sick, the sore… Thy heart their well of life they… Thine ear their open door. Ah, who can tell the joy in Pales…
They all were looking for a king To slay their foes, and lift them… Thou cam’st a little baby thing That made a woman cry. O son of man, to right my lot
Here much and little shift and cha… With scale of need and time; There more and less have meanings… Which the world cannot rime. Sickness may be more hale than hea…
