#Scots #XIXCentury
What life it is, and how that all… With outward maker’s force, or lik… Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia To L.P.M.D.
When I look back upon my life nig… Nigh spent, although the stream as… I more of follies than of sins rep… Less for offence than Love’s shor… With self, O Father, leave me not…
When at Philippi, he who would ha… Great Rome from tyrants, for the… That lay 'twixt him and battle, so… From painful thoughts, he in a boo… That so the death of Portia might…
Summer is come again. The sun is… And the soft wind is breathing. A… Is sparkling in thine eyes, and in… My soul is shining. Come; our day… Shall be to revel in unlikely thin…
WE are a shadow and a shining, we… One moment nothing seems but what… Nor aught to rule but common circu… Nought is to seek but praise, to s… A moment more, and God is all in…
Near him she stole, rank after ran… She feared approach too loud; She touched his garment’s hem, and… Back in the sheltering crowd. A shame-faced gladness thrills her…
There may be seeming calm above, b… There is a pulse below which cease… A subterranean working, fiery hot, Deep in the million-hearted bosom,… Earthquakes unlock not the prodigi…
Methought that in a solemn church… Its marble acres, worn with knees… Lay spread from door to door, from… Midway the form hung high upon the… Of him who gave his life to be our…
There is a river whose waters run asleep run run ever singing in the shallows dumb in the hollows
I think I might be weary of this… That comes inevitably every year, The same when I was young and str… The same when I am old and growin… I should grow weary of it every ye…
Trust him in the common light; Trust him in the awesome night; Trust him when the earth doth quak… Trust him when thy heart doth ache… Trust him when thy brain doth reel
I will think as thinks the rabbit:… Oh, delight In the night When the moon Sets the tune
Such guests as you, sir, were not… When I my homely dish with care d… ’Twas certain humble souls I woul… Who do not turn from wholesome mil… You came, slow-trotting on the nar…
A still dark joy! A sudden face! Cold daylight, footsteps, cries! The temple’s naked, shining space, Aglare with judging eyes! All in abandoned guilty hair,
The silence of traitorous feet! The silence of close-pent rage! The roar, and the sudden heart-bea… And the shot through the true hear… The truest heart of the age!
