#ScottishWriters
LATE, O miller, The birds are silent, The darkness falls. In the house the lights are lighte… See, in the valley they twinkle,
FLOWER god, god of the spring,… Cold—dyed shield in the sky, lover… Here I wander in April Cold, grey—headed; and still to my Heart, Spring comes with a bound,…
Child — O mother, lay your hand on my brow… O mother, mother, where am I now? Why is the room so gaunt and great… Why am I lying awake so late?
The red room with the giant bed Where none but elders laid their h… The little room where you and I Did for awhile together lie And, simple, suitor, I your hand
Sing me a song of a lad that is go… Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye. Mull was astern, Rum on the port,
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…
Since long ago, a child at home, I read and longed to rise and roam… Where’er I went, whate’er I wille… One promised land my fancy filled. Hence the long roads my home I ma…
The rain is falling all around, It falls on field and tree, It rains on the umbrellas here, And on the ships at sea.
SINCE thou hast given me this go… That while my footsteps tread the… And the great woods embower me, an… And purple even sweetly lead me on From day to day, and night to nigh…
FOR some abiding central source o… Strong—smitten steady chords, ye s… And, flowing, carry virtue. Far b… The vain tumultuous passions of th… Fleet fast and disappear; and as t…
Children, you are very little, And your bones are very brittle; If you would grow great and statel… You must try to walk sedately. You must still be bright and quiet…
TO friends at home, the lone, the… The gracious old, the lovely young… The fair, December the beloved, These from my blue horizon and gre… These from this pinnacle of distan…
(Whan the dear doctor, dear to a’, Was still amang us here belaw, I set my pipes his praise to blaw Wi’ a’ my speerit; But noo, Dear Doctor! he’s awa’,
If two may read aright These rhymes of old delight And house and garden play, You too, my cousins, and you only,… You in a garden green
Birds all the summer day Flutter and quarrel Here in the arbour—like Tent of the laurel. Here in the fork