#Scots #XIXCentury
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…
O Lord, I cannot but believe The birds do sing thy praises then… And they are lying seed-sown land… Their little bosoms breeding songs… If thou hadst finished me, O Lord…
O Mother Earth, I have a fear Which I would tell to thee– Softly and gently in thine ear When the moon and we are three. Thy grass and flowers are beautifu…
’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…
AND do not fear to hope. Can poe… More than the Father’s heart rich… Each time we smell the autumn’s dy… We know the primrose time will com… Not more we hope, nor less would s…
Methought I stood among the stars… Watching a grey parched orb which… Half blinded by the dusty winds th… Empty as Death and barren as a st… The pleasant sound of water all un…
The dreary wind of night is out, Homeless and wandering slow; O’er pale seas moaning like a doub… It breathes, but will not blow. It sighs from out the helpless pas…
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…
Said the boy as he read, ‘I too w… I will fight for the truth and its… He went to the playground, and soo… A very cowardly story! Said the girl as she read, ‘That…
‘What! you Dr. Doddridge’s dog, a… My little dog, who blessed you With such white toothy-pegs? And who was it that dressed you In such a lot of legs?
Now in the dark of February rains… Poor lovers of the sunshine, sprin… The earthy fields are full of hidd… And March’s violets bud along the… Therefore with joy believe in what…
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…
Why came in dreams the low-born ma… Between thee and thy rest? In vain thy whispered message ran, Though justice was its quest! Did some young ignorant angel dare…
This is the sweetness of an April… The softness of the spring is on t… Of the old year. She has no natur… But something comes to her from fa… Out of the Past, and on her old d…
A quiet heart, submissive, meek, Father, do thou bestow, Which more than granted, will not… To have, or give, or know. Each little hill then holds its gi…