#Scots #XIXCentury
A child was born in sin and shame, Wronged by his very birth, Without a home, without a name, One over in the earth. No wifely triumph he inspired,
I envy the tree-tops that shake so… In winds that fill them full of he… I envy every little cloud that sha… With unseen angels evening in the… I envy most the youngest stars tha…
Oh that men would praise the Lord For his goodness unto men! Forth he sends his saving word, —Oh that men would praise the Lor… And from shades of death abhorred
My little boy, with smooth, fair c… And dreamy, large, brown eyes, Not often, little wisehead, speaks… But hearing, weighs and tries. ‘God is not only in the sky,’
Star high, Baby low: ‘Twixt the two Wise men go; Find the baby,
Mourner, that dost deserve thy mou… Call thyself punished, call the ea… Say, ‘God is angry, and I earned… I would not have him smile on wick… Say this, and straightway all thy…
THE song birds that come to me ni… Fly oft away and vanish if I slee… Nor to my fowling-net will one ret… Is the thing ever ours we cannot k… But their souls go not out into th…
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…
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…
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…
Babe Jesus lay in Mary’s lap, The sun shone in his hair; And this was how she saw, mayhap, The crown already there. For she sang: ‘Sleep on, my littl…
With joyful pride her heart is hig… Her humble house doth hold The man her nation’s prophecy Long ages hath foretold! Poor, is he? Yes, and lowly born:
All things are shadows of thee, L… The sun himself is but thy shade; My spirit is the shadow of thy wor… A thing that thou hast said. Diamonds are shadows of the sun,
Nature, to him no message dost tho… Who in thy beauty findeth not the… To gird himself more strongly for… Of night and darkness. Oh, what c… The woods, the valleys, and the mo…
My TO-MORROW is but a flitting Fancy of the brain; God’s TO-MORROW an angel sitti… Ready for joy or pain. My TO-MORROW has no soul,
