To whom the heavy burden clings, It yet may serve him like a staff; One day the cross will break in wi… The sinner laugh a holy laugh. The dwarfed Zacchaeus climbed a t…

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…

I cannot praise thee. By his inst… The master sits, and moves nor foo… For see the organ-pipes this, that… Leaning, o’erthrown, like wheat-st… I well could praise thee for a flo…

A harebell hung her wilful head: ‘I am tired, so tired! I wish I w… She hung her head in the mossy del… ‘If all were over, then all were w… The Wind he heard, and was pitifu…

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…

’Tis a poor drizzly morning, dark… The cloud has fallen, and filled w… The chimneyed city; and the smoke… And spreads diluted in the cloud,… A black precipitate, on miry stree…

Autumn clouds are flying, flying O’er the waste of blue; Summer flowers are dying, dying, Late so lovely new. Labouring wains are slowly rolling

December 28, 1879 A dim, vague shrinking haunts my s… My spirit bodeth ill– As some far-off restraining bank Had burst, and waters, many a rank…

Heaven and the sea attend the dyin… And in their sadness overflow and… Faint gold, and windy blue, and gr… Far out amid them my pale soul I… For, as they mingle, so mix life a…

There was John Gordon an’ Archib… An’ a yerl’s twin sons war they; Quhan they war are an’ twenty year… They fell oot on their ae birthday… ‘Turn ye, John Gordon, nae brithe…

To My Father Take of the first fruits, father,… Wrapped in the fresh leaves of my… Late waked for early gifts ill und… Claiming in all my harvests rightf…

Look! look there! Send your eyes across the gray By my finger-point away Through the vaporous, fumy air. Beyond the air, you see the dark?

A quiet heart, submissive, meek, Father, do thou bestow, Which more than granted, will not… To have, or give, or know. Each little hill then holds its gi…

Lord, hear my discontent: all blan… A mirror polished by thy hand; Thy sun’s beams flash and flame fr… I cannot help it: here I stand, t… To one of them I cannot say,

A power is on me, and my soul must… To thee, thou grey, grey man, whom… With those white-headed children.… To commune with thy setting, and t… My doubts on thy grey hair; for I…