#Scots #XIXCentury
Come unto me, the Master says:- But how? I am not good; No thankful song my heart will rai… Nor even wish it could. I am not sorry for the past,
Merry, merry we well may be, For Jesus Christ is come down to… Long before, at the top of the sta… He set our angels a waiting there, Waiting hither and thither to fly,
The Man says: Laverock i’ the lift, Hae ye nae sang-thrift, ‘At ye scatter ’t sae heigh, and l… Wasterfu laverock!
Bands of dark and bands of light Lie athwart the homeward way; Now we cross a belt of Night, Now a strip of shining Day! Now it is a month of June,
From the German of Dessler . O Lord, how happy is the time When in thy love I rest! When from my weariness I climb
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,
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–
Speak, Prophet of the Lord! We m… To find thee with us in thine anci… Haggard and pale from some bleak w… Empty of all save God and thy lou… Nor with like rugged message quick…
Dark stranger on the teeming map o… Fabric, that seem’st a thing ali… From aught that nature or that art… To me a mystery thou ever art; And awe and wonder stir me when th…
Lord Jesus, Oh, ease us Of Self that oppresses, Annoys and distresses Body and brain
How shall he sing who hath no song… He laugh who hath no mirth? Will cannot wake the sleeping song… Yea, Love itself in vain may long To sing with them that have a song…
On the far horizon there Heaps of cloudy darkness rest; Though the wind is in the air There is stupor east and west. For the sky no change is making,
A fresh young voice that sings to… So often many a simple thing, Should surely not unanswered be By all that I can sing. Dear voice, be happy every way
Would-be prophets tell us We shall not re-know Them that walked our fellows In the ways below! Smoking, smouldering Tophets
THOU art of this world, Christ.… Thou know’st our evens, our morns,… How moons, and hearts, and seasons… How we grow weary plodding on the… Of future joy how present pain ber…