Though in my heart no Christmas g… Though my song-bird be dumb, Jesus, it is enough for me That thou art come. What though the loved be scattered…

Came of old to houses lonely Men with wings, but did not show t… Angels come to our house, only, For their wings, they do not know…

Every time would have its song If the heart were right, Seeing Love all tender-strong Fills the day and night. Weary drop the hands of Prayer

‘Thou wanderest in the land of dre… O man of many songs! To thee what is, but looks and see… No realm to thee belongs!’ ‘Seest thou those mountains, faint…

A still dark joy! A sudden face! Cold daylight, footsteps, cries! The temple’s naked, shining space, Aglare with judging eyes! All in abandoned guilty hair,

Who know thee, love: thy life be s… That, ere the year be o’er, Each one who loves thee now so muc… Even God, may love thee more!

Still flowed the music, flowed the… The youth in silence went; Through naked streets, in cold moo… His homeward way he bent, Where, on the city’s seaward line,

Sighing above, Rustling below, Thorough the woods The winds go. Beneath, dead crowds;

It is no winter night comes down Upon our hearts, dear friends of o… But a May evening, softly brown, Whose wind is rather cold. We are not, like yon sad-eyed Wes…

The times are changed, and gone th… When the high heavenly land, Though unbeheld, quite near them l… And men could understand. The dead yet find it, who, when he…

‘O lat me in, my bonny lass! It’s a lang road ower the hill, And the flauchterin snaw begud to… On the brig ayont the mill!’ ‘Here’s nae change-hoose, John Mu…

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…

A little bird sat on the edge of h… Her yellow-beaks slept as sound as… Day-long she had worked almost wit… And had filled every one of their… Her own she had filled just over-f…

Would-be prophets tell us We shall not re-know Them that walked our fellows In the ways below! Smoking, smouldering Tophets

For years eighteen she, patient so… Her eyes had graveward sent; Her earthly life was lapt in dole, She was so bowed and bent. What words! To her? Who can be ne…