#Scots #XIXCentury
O Lord, at Joseph’s humble bench Thy hands did handle saw and plane… Thy hammer nails did drive and cle… Avoiding knot and humouring grain. That thou didst seem, thou wast in…
I say! hey! cousin there! I mustn… Yet you have a tail behind, and I… You pull, and I pull, though we d… You have less hardship, and I hav… II.
A child was born in sin and shame, Wronged by his very birth, Without a home, without a name, One over in the earth. No wifely triumph he inspired,
Along the tops of all the yellow t… The golden-yellow trees, the sunsh… And where the leaves are gone, lon… Lone depths of thicket with their… And through the woods, all waste o…
SO shall abundant entrance me be… Into the truth, my life’s inherita… Lo! as the sun shoots straight fro… God-floated, casting round a lordl… Into the corners of his endless ro…
O night, send up the harvest moon To walk about the fields, And make of midnight magic noon On lonely tarns and wealds. In golden ranks, with golden crown…
‘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!…
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–
Loving looks the large-eyed cow, Loving stares the long-eared ass At Heaven’s glory in the grass! Child, with added human birth Come to bring the child of earth
First, most, to thee, my son, I g… In which a friend’s and brother’s… With mine; for not son only-brothe… Art thou, through sonship which no… Between the eyes that in each othe…
Comes there, O Earth, no breathin… No pause upon thy many-chequered l… Now resting on my bed with listles… I mourn thee resting not. Continu… Hear I the plashing borders of th…
A Microcosm In Terza Rima Quiet I lay at last, and knew no… Whether I breathed or not, so wor… With the death-struggle. What was… Neither I met, nor turned from it…
Forth to his study the sculptor go… In a mood of lofty mirth: ‘Now shall the tongues of my carpi… Confess what my art is worth! In my brain last night the vision…
Win’ that blaws the simmer plaid Ower the hie hill’s shoothers laid… Green wi’ gerse, an’ reid wi’ heat… Welcome wi’ yer sowl-like weather! Mony a win’ there has been sent
The flush of green that dyed the d… Hath vanished in the moon; Flower-scents float stronger out,… An unborn, coming tune. One southern eve like this, the de…