#Scots
It is the season now to go About the country high and low, Among the lilacs hand in hand, And two by two in fairy land. The brooding boy, the sighing maid…
The Silver Ship, my King - that… In the bright islands whence your… The Silver Ship, at rest from win… Below your palace in your harbour… And the seafarers, sitting safe on…
MY first gift and my last, to you I dedicate this fascicle of songs… The only wealth I have: Just as they are, to you. I speak the truth in soberness, an…
My body which my dungeon is, And yet my parks and palaces: — Which is so great that there I go All the day long to and fro, And when the night begins to fall
Do you remember —can we e’er forge… How, in the coiled-perplexities of… In our wild climate, in our scowli… We gloomed and shivered, sorrowed,… The belching winter wind, the miss…
Bright is the ring of words When the right man rings them, Fair the fall of songs When the singer sings them. Still they are carolled and said —
COME, my beloved, hear from me Tales of the woods or open sea. Let our aspiring fancy rise A wren’s flight higher toward the… Or far from cities, brown and bare…
In dreams, unhappy, I behold you… As heretofore: The unremembered tokens in your ha… Avail no more. No more the morning glow, no more…
LOUD and low in the chimney The squalls suspire; Then like an answer dwindles And glows the fire, And the chamber reddens and darken…
AS in their flight the birds of s… Halt here and there in sweet and s… But halt not overlong; The time one rural song to sing They pause; then following bounteo…
OH, I wad like to ken—to the begg… Why chops are guid to brander and… An’ siller, that ’s sae braw to ke… It ’s gey an’ easy spierin’, says… Oh, I wad like to ken—to the begg…
UP with the sun, the breeze arose… Across the talking corn she goes, And smooth she rustles far and wid… Through all the voiceful countrysi… Through all the land her tale she…
All around the house is the jet—bl… It stares through the window—pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding f… And it moves with the moving flame… Now my little heart goes a beating…
To you, let snow and roses And golden locks belong. These are the world’s enslavers, Let these delight the throng. For her of duskier lustre
The year runs through her phases;… Springtime and summer pass; winter… But one pale season rules the hous… Cold falls the imprisoned daylight… By each lean pallet squats, and pa…
