#Scots
Lawrence, what though the world be… And twilight cool thy potent day i… The sun, beneath the round earth s… All the night through, sleepless a… Oh, be thy spirit faithful as the…
Men sought, ambition’s thirst to s… The lost elixir old Whose magic touch should instant m… The meaner metals gold. A nobler alchymy is thine
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…
Loosener of springs, he died by th… Softness, not hardness, sent him h… He loved thee-and thou mad’st him… Of all the place thou comest from!
O Father, I am in the dark, My soul is heavy-bowed: I send my prayer up like a lark, Up through my vapoury shroud, To find thee,
A brown bird sang on a blossomy tr… Sang in the moonshine, merrily, Three little songs, one, two, and… A song for his wife, for himself,… He sang for his wife, sang low, sa…
Such guests as you, sir, were not… When I my homely dish with care d… ’Twas certain humble souls I woul… Who do not turn from wholesome mil… You came, slow-trotting on the nar…
King Cole he reigned in Aureoland… But the sceptre was seldom in his… Far oftener was there his golden c… He ate too much, but he drank all… To be called a king and to be a ki…
When God’s own child came down to… High heaven was very glad; The angels sang for holy mirth; Not God himself was sad! Shall we, when ours goes homeward,…
Dead art thou? No more dead than… Over whose couch the saving God d… ‘She is not dead but sleepeth,’ sa… And took her by the hand! Thee knowledge never from Life’s…
O Mother Earth, I have a fear Which I would tell to thee– Softly and gently in thine ear When the moon and we are three. Thy grass and flowers are beautifu…
Imagination cannot rise above thee… Near and afar I see thee, and I l… My misery away from me I thrust i… For thy perfection I behold, and…
When things are holding wonted pac… In wonted paths, without a trace Or hint of neighbouring wonder, Sometimes, from other realms, a to… A scent, a vision, swift, alone,
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,
The silence of traitorous feet! The silence of close-pent rage! The roar, and the sudden heart-bea… And the shot through the true hear… The truest heart of the age!