#Scots
And should the twilight darken int… And sorrow grow to anguish, be tho… Thou art in God, and nothing can… Which a fresh life-pulse cannot se… That thou dost know the darkness,…
The Man says: Laverock i’ the lift, Hae ye nae sang-thrift, ‘At ye scatter ’t sae heigh, and l… Wasterfu laverock!
Dead, why defend thee, who in life For thy worst foe hadst died; Who, thy own name a word of strife… Didst silent stand aside? Grand in forgiveness, what to thee
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
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…
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…
Thrice-happy he whose heart, each… When old-worn day hath vanished o’… And he hath laid him down in chamb… Straightway begins to tremble and… And loose faint flashes toward the…
They all were looking for a king To slay their foes, and lift them… Thou cam’st a little baby thing That made a woman cry. O son of man, to right my lot
Sweep up the flure, Janet; Put on anither peat. It’s a lown and a starry nicht, J… And nowther cauld nor weet. It’s the nicht atween the Sancts…
How shall he sing who hath no song… He laugh who hath no mirth? Will cannot wake the sleeping song… Yea, Love itself in vain may long To sing with them that have a song…
‘Traveller, what lies over the hil… Traveller, tell to me: Tip-toe-high on the window-sill Over I cannot see.’ ‘My child, a valley green lies the…
’Tis time to sleep, my little boy: Why gaze thy bright eyes so? At night our children, for new joy Home to thy father go, But thou art wakeful! Sleep, my c…
Gray clouds my heaven have covered… My sea ebbs fast, no more to flow; Ghastly and dry, my desert shore Parched, bare, unsightly things do… ’Tis thou, Lord, cloudest up my s…
Summer, sweet Summer, many-finger… We hold thee very dear, as well we… It is the kernel of the year to—da… All hail to thee! thou art a welco… If every insect were a fairy drumm…
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…
