#Scots #XIXCentury
First came the red-eyed sun as I… He smote me on the temples and I… Casting the night aside and all it… And I would spurn my idleness, an… My own wild journey even like him,…
Upon a rock I sat-a mountain-side… Far, far forsaken of the old sea’s… A rock where ancient waters’ rise… Recoil and plunge, eddy, and oscil… Had worn and worn, while races liv…
It is May, and the moon leans dow… Over a blossomy land; Leans from her window a lady white… With her cheek upon her hand. ‘Oh, why in the blue so misty, moo…
Love, the baby, Crept abroad to pluck a flower: One said, Yes, sir; one said, May… One said, Wait the hour. Love, the boy,
I love thy skies, thy sunny mists, Thy fields, thy mountains hoar, Thy wind that bloweth where it lis… Thy will, I love it more. I love thy hidden truth to seek
Queen Mary one day Jesus sent To fetch some water, legends tell; The little boy, obedient, Drew a full pitcher from the well; But as he raised it to his head,
I know what beauty is, for thou Hast set the world within my heart… Of me thou madest it a part; I never loved it more than now. I know the Sabbath afternoons;
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,…
The dreary wind of night is out, Homeless and wandering slow; O’er pale seas moaning like a doub… It breathes, but will not blow. It sighs from out the helpless pas…
O wild and dark! a night hath foun… Wherein I mingle with that elemen… Sent madly loose through the wide… In yon tormented branches! I will… A while unto the storm, and thence…
Come unto me, the Master says:- But how? I am not good; No thankful song my heart will rai… Nor even wish it could. I am not sorry for the past,
There was a girl that lost things– Nor only from her hand; She lost, indeed-why, most things, As if they had been sand! She said, 'But I must use them,
Well for youth to seek the strong, Beautiful, and brave! We, the old, who walk along Gently to the grave, Only pay our court to thee,
Waking in the night to pray, Sleeping when the answer comes, Foolish are we even at play– Tearfully we beat our drums! Cast the good dry bread away,
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…
