From Songs of Travel
#Scots #XIXCentury
THOUGH deep indifference should… The sluggish life beneath my brows… And all the external things I see Grow snow—showers in the street to… Yet inmost in my stormy sense
YOU fear, Ligurra– above all, yo… That I should smite you with a st… This dreadful honour you both fear… Both all in vain: you fall below m… The Lybian lion tears the roaring…
The sheets were frozen hard, and t… The decks were like a slide, where… The wind was a nor’wester, blowing… And cliffs and spouting breakers w… They heard the surf a—roaring befo…
Dear Thamson class, whaure’er I g… It aye comes ower me wi’ a spang: “Lordsake! They Thamson lads - (… Or else lord mend them!) - An’ that Wanchancy annual sang
YOU looked so tempting in the pew… You looked so sly and calm — My trembling fingers played with y… As both looked out the Psalm. Your heart beat hard against my ar…
“Chief of our aunts”—not only I, But all your dozen of nurselings c… “What did the other children do? And what were childhood, wanting y…
I should like to rise and go Where the golden apples grow;— Where below another sky Parrot islands anchored lie, And, watched by cockatoos and goat…
Son of my woman’s body, you go, to… To taste the colour of love and th… From out of the dainty the rude, t… Eternally through the ages from th… The ten fingers and toes, and the…
Clinkum—clank in the rain they rid… Down by the braes and the grey sea… Clinkum—clank by stane and cairn, Weary fa’ their horse—shoe—airn! Loud on the causey, saft on the sa…
AS swallows turning backward When half—way o’er the sea, At one word’s trumpet summons They came again to me — The hopes I had forgotten
STOUT marches lead to certain en… We seek no Holy Grail, my friends… That dawn should find us every day Some fraction farther on our way. The dumb lands sleep from east to…
Frae nirly, nippin’, Eas’lan’ bre… Frae Norlan’ snaw, an’ haar o’ se… Weel happit in your gairden trees, A bonny bit, Atween the muckle Pentland’s knee…
I KNOW not how, but as I count The beads of former years, Old laughter catches in my throat With the very feel of tears.
When I am grown to man’s estate I shall be very proud and great, And tell the other girls and boys Not to meddle with my toys.
SWALLOWS travel to and fro, And the great winds come and go, And the steady breezes blow, Bearing perfume, bearing love. Breezes hasten, swallows fly,