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…

Lord Jesus, Oh, ease us Of Self that oppresses, Annoys and distresses Body and brain

’Tis not the violent hands alone t… The curse, the ravage, and the dow… Although to these full oft the yaw… Owes deadly surfeit; but a keener… A more immortal agony will cling

To give a thing and take again Is counted meanness among men; To take away what once is given Cannot then be the way of heaven! But human hearts are crumbly stuff…

In the winter, flowers are springi… In the winter, woods are green, Where our banished birds are singi… Where our summer sun is seen! Our cold midnights are coeval

She sitteth at the Master’s feet In motionless employ; Her ears, her heart, her soul comp… Drinks in the tide of joy. Ah! who but she the glory knows

I cannot write old verses here, Dead things a thousand years away, When all the life of the young yea… Is in the summer day. The roses make the world so sweet,

Uplifted is the stone And all mankind arisen! We are thy very own, We are no more in prison! What bitterest grief can stay

The stars cleave the sky. Yet for us they rest, And their race-course high Is a shining nest! The hours hurry on.

I dinna ken what’s come ower me! There’s a how whaur ance was a her… I never luik oot afore me, An’ a cry winna gar me stert; There’s naething nae mair to come…

I was very cold In the summer weather; The sun shone all his gold, But I was very cold– Alas, we were grown old,

We doubt the word that tells us:… And ye shall have your prayer; We turn our thoughts as to a task, With will constrained and rare. And yet we have; these scanty pray…

To God and man be simply true; Do as thou hast been wont to do; Bring out thy treasures, old and n… - Mean all the same when said to you…

What shall I be?-I will be a knig… Walled up in armour black, With a sword of sharpness, a hamme… And a spear that will not crack– So black, so blank, no glimmer of…

I follow, tottering, in the funera… That bears my body to the welcomin… As those I mourn not, that entomb… But smile as those that lay aside… To me it is a thing of poor disdai…