Up cam the tide wi’ a burst and a… And back gaed the stanes wi’ a whu… The king’s son walkit i’ the eveni… To hear the sea murmur and murr. Straucht ower the water slade frae…

I have not any fearful tale to tel… Of fabled giant or of dragon-claw, Or bloody deed to pilfer and to se… To those who feed, with such, a ga… But what in yonder hamlet there be…

I like ye weel upo Sundays, Nanni… I’ yer goon and yer ribbons and a’… But I like ye better on Mondays,… Whan ye’re no sae buskit and braw. For whan we’re sittin sae douce,…

Where went the feet that hitherto… Here yawns no gulf to quench the f… With lengthening pauses broke, the… The grass floats in; the gazer sta… Tremble not, maiden, though the fo…

Lord, hear my discontent: all blan… A mirror polished by thy hand; Thy sun’s beams flash and flame fr… I cannot help it: here I stand, t… To one of them I cannot say,

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…

‘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…

I have a fellowship with every sha… Of changing nature: with the tempe… My soul goes forth to claim her ea… Of living princedom; and her wings… Amidst the wildest uproar undismay…

Out of the gulf into the glory, Father, my soul cries out to be li… Dark is the woof of my dismal stor… Thorough thy sun—warp stormily dri… Out of the gulf into the glory,

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

A broken tale of endless things, Take, lady: thou art not of those Who in what vale a fountain spring… Would have its journey close. Countless beginnings, fair first p…

Christmas-Days are still in store… Will they change-steal faded hithe… Or come fresh as heretofore, Summering all our winter weather? Surely they will keep their bloom

‘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…

I am a bubble Upon thy ever-moving, resting sea: Oh, rest me now from tossing, tres… Take me down into thee. Give me thy peace.

The mountain-stream may humbly boa… For her the loud waves call; The hamlet feeds the nation’s host… The home-farm feeds the hall; And unto earth heaven’s Lord doth…