#Scots #XIXCentury
To My Father Take of the first fruits, father,… Wrapped in the fresh leaves of my… Late waked for early gifts ill und… Claiming in all my harvests rightf…
Prince Breacan of Denmark was lor… And lord of the billowy sea; Lord of the sea and lord of the la… He might have let maidens be! A maiden he met with locks of gold…
’Tis we, not in thine arms, who we… The children in thy bosom laugh an…
‘Earth, if aught should check thy… Rushing through unfended space, Headlong, stayless, thou wilt fall Into yonder glowing ball!’ ‘Beggar of the universe,
TO THEM THAT MOURN Let your tears flow; let your sad… Only take heed they fan, they wate… A STORY OF THE SEA-SHORE. INTRODUCTION.
Oh how oft I wake and find I have been forgetting thee! I am never from thy mind: Thou it is that wakest me.
There is not any weed but hath its… There is not any pool but hath its… And black and muddy though the wat… We may not miss the glory of a flo… And winter moons will give them ma…
I waited for the Master In the darkness dumb; Light came fast and faster– My light did not come! I waited all the daylight,
God gives his child upon his slate… To find eternity in hours and year… With both sides covered, back the… His dim eyes swollen with shed and… God smiles, wipes clean the upper…
Rich is the fancy which can double… All seeming forms, and from cold i… Build up high glittering palaces w… Summer perfection, moulding all th… To spirit symmetry, and doth not l…
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,
If thou hadst been a sculptor, wha… Of forms divine had thenceforth fi… Methinks I see thee, glorious wor… Striking a marble window through b… Thy face’s reflex on the coming fa…
Here much and little shift and cha… With scale of need and time; There more and less have meanings… Which the world cannot rime. Sickness may be more hale than hea…
Oh! the bonny, bonny dell, whaur t… Wi’ a clip o’ the sunshine atween… Whaur the birks are a’ straikit wi… And the brume hings its lamps by d… Whaur the burnie comes trottin owe…
What life it is, and how that all… With outward maker’s force, or lik… Sir Philip Sidney’s Arcadia To L.P.M.D.
