O Lord, if on the wind, at cool o… I heard one whispered word of migh… If through the darkness, as in bed… But once had come a hand upon my f… If but one sign that might not be…

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…

I would I were a child, That I might look, and laugh, and… And follow thee with running feet,… Be led through dark and wild! How I would hold thy hand,

The hinges are so rusty The door is fixed and fast; The windows are so dusty The sun looks in aghast: Knock out the glass, I pray,

‘Hear’st thou that sound upon the… Said the youth softly, as outstret… Where for an hour outstretched he… Softly, yet with some token of dis… Answered the maiden: ‘It is but t…

One do I see and twelve; but seco… Methinks I know thee, thou belove… Not from thy nobler port, for ther… More quiet-featured: some there ar… Their message on their brows, whil…

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,

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

Comes there, O Earth, no breathin… No pause upon thy many-chequered l… Now resting on my bed with listles… I mourn thee resting not. Continu… Hear I the plashing borders of th…

When the clock hath ceased to tick Soul-like in the gloomy hall; When the latch no more doth click Tongue-like in the red peach-wall; When no more come sounds of play,

‘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…

Within my heart a worm had long be… I knew it not when I went down an… Because some servants of my inner… Had not, I found, of late been do… But then I spied the horror hideo…

The stars are all watching; God’s angel is catching At thy skirts in the darkness deep… Gold hinges grating, The mighty dead waiting,

As to her child a mother calls, ‘Come to me, child; come near!’ Calling, in silent intervals, The Master’s voice I hear. But does he call me verily?

When the snow is on the earth Birds and waters cease their mirth… When the sunlight is prevailing Even the night-winds drop their wa… On the earth when deep snows lie