#ScottishWriters
Loosener of springs, he died by th… Softness, not hardness, sent him h… He loved thee-and thou mad’st him… Of all the place thou comest from!
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,
To whom the heavy burden clings, It yet may serve him like a staff; One day the cross will break in wi… The sinner laugh a holy laugh. The dwarfed Zacchaeus climbed a t…
Go not forth to call Dame Sorrow From the dim fields of Tomorrow; Let her roam there all unheeded, She will come when she is needed; Then, when she draws near thy door…
My little boy, with smooth, fair c… And dreamy, large, brown eyes, Not often, little wisehead, speaks… But hearing, weighs and tries. ‘God is not only in the sky,’
Now far from my old northern land, I live where gentle winters pass; Where green seas lave a wealthy st… And unsown is the grass ;
Tumultuous rushing o’er the outstr… A wildered maze of comets and of s… The blood of changeless God that… With quick diastole up the immorta… A phantom host that moves and work…
The miser lay on his lonely bed; Life’s candle was burning dim. His heart in an iron chest was hid Under heaps of gold and an iron li… And whether it were alive or dead
To Jordan when our Lord had gone, His Father’s pleasure willing, He took his baptism of St. John, His work and charge fulfilling; Therein he did appoint a bath
I will think as thinks the rabbit:… Oh, delight In the night When the moon Sets the tune
Ah, holy midnight of the soul, When stars alone are high; When winds are resting at their go… And sea-waves only sigh! Ambition faints from out the will;
Lord, I have laid my heart upon t… But cannot get the wood to burn; It hardly flares ere it begins to… And to the dark return. Old sap, or night-fallen dew, make…
The warl it’s dottit wi’ hames As thick as gowans o’ the green, Aye bonnier ilk ane nor the lave To him wha there opent his een. An’ mony an’ bonny’s the hame
‘Shew us the Father.’ Chiming sta… And lives that fit the worlds, and… A Thought that holds them up reve… A Wisdom we have been made wise t… And, looking out from sweetest Na…
’Tis the midnight hour; I heard The Abbey-bell give out the word. Seldom is the lamp-ray shed On some dwarfed foot-farer’s head In the deep and narrow street