#Scots
‘What gars ye sing,’ said the herd… ‘What gars ye sing sae lood?’ ‘To tice them oot o’ the yerd, lad… The worms for my daily food.’ An’ aye he sang, an’ better he san…
Mourn not, my friends, that we are… A fresher birth brings every new y… Years are Christ’s napkins to wip… See now, I’ll be to you an angel… My plumes are ruffled, and they sh…
A name of the Year. Some say the… a march of wolves, which wolves, running in single fi… Others say the word means the path of the light
They were parted then at last? Was it duty, or force, or fate? Or did a worldly blast Blow-to the meeting-gate? An old, short story is this!
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…
‘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!…
I came upon a fountain on my way When it was hot, and sat me down t… Its sparkling stream, when all aro… I spied full many vessels made of… Whereon were written, not without…
Oh! is it Death that comes To have a foretaste of the whole? To-night the planets and the stars Will glimmer through my window-bar… But will not shine upon my soul!
Lord Jesus, Oh, ease us Of Self that oppresses, Annoys and distresses Body and brain
There was a girl that lost things– Nor only from her hand; She lost, indeed-why, most things, As if they had been sand! She said, 'But I must use them,
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,
Sweep up the flure, Janet; Put on anither peat. It’s a lown and a starry nicht, J… And nowther cauld nor weet. It’s the nicht atween the Sancts…
January 26, 1885 Gordon, the self-refusing, Gordon, the lover of God, Gordon, the good part choosing, Welcome along the road!
Ave! Once more touch the strings That Memory may feed upon the str… And over-live again The days, When the heart gloried in the gold…
I have a puppet-jointed child, She’s but three half-years old; Through lawless hair her eyes glea… With looks both shy and bold. Like little imps, her tiny hands
