The Year Of The Trouble In Lanc… The skies are pale, the trees are… The earth is dull and old; The frost is glittering as if The very sun were cold.

There is a bellowing in me, as of… Unfleshed and visionless, mangling… With horrible convulse, as if it b… The cruel weight of worlds, but co… With the thick-dropping clods, and…

I would I were an angel strong, An angel of the sun, hasting along… I would I were just come awake, A child outbursting from night’s d… Or lark whose inward, upward fate

Win’ that blaws the simmer plaid Ower the hie hill’s shoothers laid… Green wi’ gerse, an’ reid wi’ heat… Welcome wi’ yer sowl-like weather! Mony a win’ there has been sent

When thou turn’st away from ill, Christ is this side of thy hill. When thou turnest toward good, Christ is walking in thy wood. When thy heart says, ‘Father, par…

A pale green sky is gleaming; The steely stars are few; The moorland pond is steaming A mist of gray and blue. Along the pathway lonely

‘What maks ye sae canty, granny de… Has some kin’ body been for ye to… Ye luik as smilin an’ fain an’ wil… As gien ye had fun a bonny shillin… ‘Ye think I luik canty, my bonny…

Lord Jesus, Oh, ease us Of Self that oppresses, Annoys and distresses Body and brain

Graut Euch nicht, Ihr lieben Leu… Vor dem ungeheuren Morgen; Wenn es kommt, es ist das Heute, Und der liebe Gott zu sorgen.

I know not what among the grass th… Thy nature, nor thy substance, fai… Nor what to other eyes thou hast o… To send thine image through them t… But when I push the frosty leaves…

Sweep up the flure, Janet; Put on anither peat. It’s a lown and a starry nicht, J… And nowther cauld nor weet. It’s the nicht atween the Sancts…

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,

I.-BY THE CRADLE. Close her eyes: she must not peep! Let her little puds go slack; Slide away far into sleep: Sis will watch till she comes back…

A pool of broken sunbeams lay Upon the passage-floor, Radiant and rich, profound and gay As ever diamond bore. Small, flitting hands a handkerchi…

O night, send up the harvest moon To walk about the fields, And make of midnight magic noon On lonely tarns and wealds. In golden ranks, with golden crown…