#ScottishWriters
Oh that men would praise the Lord For his goodness unto men! Forth he sends his saving word, —Oh that men would praise the Lor… And from shades of death abhorred
Love is the part, and love is the… Love is the robe, and love is the… Ruler of heart and brain and soul, Love is the lord and the slave of… I thank thee, Love, that thou lov…
Lost the little one roams about, Pathway or shelter none can find; Blinking stars are coming out; No one is moving but the wind; It is no use to cry or shout,
The Man says: Laverock i’ the lift, Hae ye nae sang-thrift, ‘At ye scatter ’t sae heigh, and l… Wasterfu laverock!
O Lord, if on the wind, at cool o… I heard one whispered word of migh… If through the darkness, as in bed… But once had come a hand upon my f… If but one sign that might not be…
Behind my father’s cottage lies A gentle grassy height Up which I often ran-to gaze Back with a wondering sight, For then the chimneys I thought h…
’Tis a poor drizzly morning, dark… The cloud has fallen, and filled w… The chimneyed city; and the smoke… And spreads diluted in the cloud,… A black precipitate, on miry stree…
Cry out upon the crime, and then l… The dogs of hate, whose hanging mu… The bloody secret; let the welkin… Reverberating, while ye dance and… About the horrid blaze! or else ye…
First came the red-eyed sun as I… He smote me on the temples and I… Casting the night aside and all it… And I would spurn my idleness, an… My own wild journey even like him,…
We doubt the word that tells us:… And ye shall have your prayer; We turn our thoughts as to a task, With will constrained and rare. And yet we have; these scanty pray…
O Lord, my God, how long Shall my poor heart pant for a bou… How long, O mighty Spirit, shall… The murmur of Truth’s crystal wat… From the deep caverns of their end…
O Lord of life, thy quickening vo… Awakes my morning song! In gladsome words I would rejoice That I to thee belong. I see thy light, I feel thy wind;
Little Boy Blue lost his way in a… Sing apples and cherries, roses an… He said, 'I would not go back if… It’s all so jolly and funny!’ He sang, ‘This wood is all my own…
What dost thou here, O soul, Beyond thy own control, Under the strange wild sky? 0 stars, reach down your hands, And clasp me in your silver bands,
There cam a man to oor toon-en’, And a waesome carl was he, Snipie-nebbit, and crookit-mou’d, And gleyt o’ a blinterin ee. Muckle he spied, and muckle he spa…
