#Scots #XIXCentury
Doon cam the sunbeams, and up gaed… As we spangt ower the road at ten… The horse wasna timmer, the cart w… And little cared we for the burn o… We war young, and the hert in’s wa…
My Lily snatches not my gift; Glad is she to be fed, But to her mouth she will not lift The piece of broken bread, Till on my lips, unerring, swift,
‘Rejoice,’ said the Sun; ‘I will… With glory and gladness and holida… I am dumb, O man, and I need thy… But man would not rejoice. ‘Rejoice in thyself,’ said he, ‘O…
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…
Every time would have its song If the heart were right, Seeing Love all tender-strong Fills the day and night. Weary drop the hands of Prayer
Beautiful stories wed with lovely… Like words and music:-what shall b… Of love and nobleness that might a… To express in action what this swe… The sweetness of a day of airs and…
Tumultuous rushing o’er the outstr… A wildered maze of comets and of s… The blood of changeless God that… With quick diastole up the immorta… A phantom host that moves and work…
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…
‘Grant, Lord, her prayer, and let… She crieth after us.’ Nay, to the dogs ye cast it so; Serve not a woman thus. Their pride, by condescension fed,
Lord, according to thy words, I have considered thy birds; And I find their life good, And better the better understood: Sowing neither corn nor wheat
Whan Andrew frae Strathbogie gaed The lift was lowerin dreary, The sun he wadna raise his heid, The win’ blew laich and eerie. In’s pooch he had a plack or twa–
I stood in an ancient garden With high red walls around; Over them grey and green lichens In shadowy arabesque wound. The topmost climbing blossoms
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,
Came of old to houses lonely Men with wings, but did not show t… Angels come to our house, only, For their wings, they do not know…
If thou art tempted by a thought o… Crave not too soon for victory, no… Thou art a coward if thy safety se… To spring too little from a righte… For there is nightmare on thee, no…
