I do remember how, when very young… I saw the great sea first, and hea… As I drew nearer, caught within t… Of its vast size and its mysteriou… How the floor trembled, and the da…

There breathes not a breath of the… But the spirit of love is moving t… Not a trembling leaf on the shadow… Flutters with hundreds in harmony, But that spirit can part its tone…

Of old, with goodwill from the ski… God’s message to them given– The angels came, a glad surprise, And went again to heaven. But now the angels are grown rare,

O lassie ayont the hill, Come ower the tap o’ the hill, Come ower the tap wi’ the breeze o… Bidena ayont the hill! I’m needin ye sair the nicht,

When the cock crows loud from the… And the moor-cock chirrs from the… What hear ye and see ye then, Ye children of air and ether? 1st Echo

‘Good morrow, my lord!’ in the sky… Sang the lark as the sun ascended… ‘Shine on me, my lord: I only am… Of all your servants, to welcome y… I have shot straight up, a whole h…

Had I the grace to win the grace Of some old man in lore complete, My face would worship at his face, And I sit lowly at his feet. Had I the grace to win the grace

‘Thou wanderest in the land of dre… O man of many songs! To thee what is, but looks and see… No realm to thee belongs!’ ‘Seest thou those mountains, faint…

‘I do beseech thee, God, show me… ‘Come up to me in Sinai on the mo… Thou shall behold as much as may b… And on a rock stood Moses, lone i… From Sinai’s top, the vaporous, t…

The stars are all watching; God’s angel is catching At thy skirts in the darkness deep… Gold hinges grating, The mighty dead waiting,

I woke at midnight, and my heart, My beating heart, said this to me: Thou seest the moon, how calm and… The world is fair by day and night… But what is that to thee?

The Man says: Laverock i’ the lift, Hae ye nae sang-thrift, ‘At ye scatter ’t sae heigh, and l… Wasterfu laverock!

The veil hath lifted and hath fall… Who next it stood before us, first… We see not; but between the cherub… The light burns clearer: come-a th… Lord, for thy prophet’s calm comma…

Here is a temple strangely wrought… Within it I can see Two spirits of a diverse thought Contend for mastery. One is an angel fair and bright,

As to her child a mother calls, ‘Come to me, child; come near!’ Calling, in silent intervals, The Master’s voice I hear. But does he call me verily?