The wind it blew, and the ship it… And it was ‘Hey for hame!’ But up an’ cried the skipper til h… ‘Haud her oot ower the saut sea fa… Syne up an’ spak the angry king:

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…

There is a bellowing in me, as of… Unfleshed and visionless, mangling… With horrible convulse, as if it b… The cruel weight of worlds, but co… With the thick-dropping clods, and…

The mountain-stream may humbly boa… For her the loud waves call; The hamlet feeds the nation’s host… The home-farm feeds the hall; And unto earth heaven’s Lord doth…

Seek not my name-it doth no virtue… Seek, seek thine own primeval name… The name God called when thy idea… Arose in deeps of the eternal mind… When that thou findest, thou art s…

Filled with his words of truth and… Her heart will break or cry: A woman’s cry bursts forth in migh… Of loving agony. ‘Blessed the womb, thee, Lord, th…

A broken tale of endless things, Take, lady: thou art not of those Who in what vale a fountain spring… Would have its journey close. Countless beginnings, fair first p…

Hears’t thou the dash of water, lo… With its perpetual tidings upward… Struggling against the wind? Oh,… For not in vain from its portentou… Thy heart, wild stream, hath yearn…

Power that is not of God, however… Is but the downward rushing and th… Of a swift meteor that hath lost i… In the one impulse which doth anim… The parent mass: emblem to me of f…

Oh! is it Death that comes To have a foretaste of the whole? To-night the planets and the stars Will glimmer through my window-bar… But will not shine upon my soul!

‘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…

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…

‘What maks ye sae canty, granny de… Has some kin’ body been for ye to… Ye luik as smilin an’ fain an’ wil… As gien ye had fun a bonny shillin… ‘Ye think I luik canty, my bonny…

‘WHO is this little one lying,’ Said Time, ‘at my garden-gate, Moaning and sobbing and crying, Out in the cold so late?’ ‘They lurked until we came near,