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

When thy heart, love-filled, grows… And eternal bliss looks nearer, Ask thy heart, nor show it favour, Is the gift or giver dearer? Love, love on; love higher, deeper…

Cry out upon the crime, and then l… The dogs of hate, whose hanging mu… The bloody secret; let the welkin… Reverberating, while ye dance and… About the horrid blaze! or else ye…

‘My life is drear; walking I labo… The heart in me is heavy as a ston… And of my sorrows this the icy cor… Life is so wide, and I am all alo… Thou did’st walk so, with heaven-b…

Of old, with goodwill from the ski… God’s message to them given– The angels came, a glad surprise, And went again to heaven. But now the angels are grown rare,

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…

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…

When God’s own child came down to… High heaven was very glad; The angels sang for holy mirth; Not God himself was sad! Shall we, when ours goes homeward,…

Dark stranger on the teeming map o… Fabric, that seem’€™st a thing ali… From aught that nature or that art… To me a mystery thou ever art; And awe and wonder stir me when th…

I.-BY THE CRADLE. Close her eyes: she must not peep! Let her little puds go slack; Slide away far into sleep: Sis will watch till she comes back…

Gray clouds my heaven have covered… My sea ebbs fast, no more to flow; Ghastly and dry, my desert shore Parched, bare, unsightly things do… ’Tis thou, Lord, cloudest up my s…

Rose o’ my hert, Open yer leaves to the lampin mune… Into the curls lat her keek an’ de… She’ll tak the colour but gie ye t… Buik o’ my brain,

December 28, 1879 A dim, vague shrinking haunts my s… My spirit bodeth ill– As some far-off restraining bank Had burst, and waters, many a rank…

Days of old, Ye are not dead, though gone from… Ye are not cold, But like the summer-birds fled o’e… The sun brings back the swallows f…

There was an auld fisher, he sat b… An’ luikit oot ower the sea; The bairnies war playin, he smil’t… But the tear stude in his e’e. An’ it’s-oh to win awa, awa!