#ScottishWriters
A glory on the chamber wall! A glory in the brain! Triumphant floods of glory fall On heath, and wold, and plain. Earth lieth still in hopeless blis…
First, most, to thee, my son, I g… In which a friend’s and brother’s… With mine; for not son only-brothe… Art thou, through sonship which no… Between the eyes that in each othe…
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…
Ave! Once more touch the strings That Memory may feed upon the str… And over-live again The days, When the heart gloried in the gold…
‘If I sit in the dust For lauding good wine, Ha, ha! it is just: So sits the vine!’ Abu Midjan sang as he sat in chai…
Nobody knows the world but me. The rest go to bed; I sit up and… I’m a better observer than any of… For I never look out till the twi… And never then without green glass…
The Deil’s forhooit his ain, his… The Deil’s forhooit his ain! His bairns are greitin in ilka neu… For the Deil’s forhooit his ain. The Deil he tuik his stick and hi…
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…
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…
’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
If I did seem to you no more Than to myself I seem, Not thus you would fling wide the… And on the beggar beam! You would not don your radiant bes…
Little Bo-Peep, she has lost her… And will not know where to find th… They are over the height and out o… Trailing their tails behind them! Little Bo-Peep woke out of her sl…
Trust him in the common light; Trust him in the awesome night; Trust him when the earth doth quak… Trust him when thy heart doth ache… Trust him when thy brain doth reel
Would-be prophets tell us We shall not re-know Them that walked our fellows In the ways below! Smoking, smouldering Tophets
Behind my father’s cottage lies A gentle grassy height Up which I often ran-to gaze Back with a wondering sight, For then the chimneys I thought h…
