Oh how oft I wake and find I have been forgetting thee! I am never from thy mind: Thou it is that wakest me.

LORD, I do choose the higher tha… I would be handled by thy nursing… After thy will, not my infant alar… Hurt me thou wilt-but then more lo… If more can be and less, in love’s…

A lang-backit, spilgie, fuistit au… Gangs a’ nicht rakin athort the wa… Wi’ a pock on his back, luikin hun… His crook-fingert han’ aye followi… He gathers up a’thing that canna b…

For years eighteen she, patient so… Her eyes had graveward sent; Her earthly life was lapt in dole, She was so bowed and bent. What words! To her? Who can be ne…

Christmas-Days are still in store… Will they change-steal faded hithe… Or come fresh as heretofore, Summering all our winter weather? Surely they will keep their bloom

Back shining from the pane, the fi… Seems outside in the snow: So love set free from love’s desir… Lights grief of long ago. The dark is thinned with snow-shee…

In the air why such a ringing? On the earth why such a droning? In the air the lark is singing; On the earth the wind is moaning. ‘I am blest, in sunlight swinging!…

Why came in dreams the low-born ma… Between thee and thy rest? In vain thy whispered message ran, Though justice was its quest! Did some young ignorant angel dare…

Above my head the great pine-branc… Backwards and forwards each to the… Beckoning the tempest-cloud which… Like a slow-laboured thought, heav… Hark to the patter of the coming s…

Were I a skilful painter, My pencil, not my pen, Should try to teach thee hope and… And who would blame me then?- Fear of the tide of darkness

Comes there, O Earth, no breathin… No pause upon thy many-chequered l… Now resting on my bed with listles… I mourn thee resting not. Continu… Hear I the plashing borders of th…

I know what beauty is, for thou Hast set the world within my heart… Of me thou madest it a part; I never loved it more than now. I know the Sabbath afternoons;

Alas, ’tis cold and dark! The wind all night hath sung a win… Hail from black clouds that swallo… Beat, beat against my bark. Oh! why delays the spring?

This is the sweetness of an April… The softness of the spring is on t… Of the old year. She has no natur… But something comes to her from fa… Out of the Past, and on her old d…

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…