#Couplet #Epigram #MoneyAndEconomics #ScottishWriters #SocialCommentaries
When I was down beside the sea A wooden spade they gave to me To dig the sandy shore. My holes were empty like a cup. In every hole the sea came up
I WHO all the winter through Cherished other loves than you, And kept hands with hoary policy i… Now I know the false and true, For the earnest sun looks through,
OVER the land is April, Over my heart a rose; Over the high, brown mountain The sound of singing goes. Say, love, do you hear me,
Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a—floating,
Soon our friends perish, Soon all we cherish Fades as days darken —goes as flow… Soon in December Over an ember,
My tea is nearly ready and the sun… It’s time to take the window to se… For every night at teatime and bef… With lantern and with ladder he co… Now Tom would be a driver and Mar…
The clinkum-clank o’ Sabbath bell… Noo to the hoastin’ rookery swells… Noo faintin’ laigh in shady dells, Sounds far an’ near, An’ through the simmer kintry tell…
My Treasures These nuts, that I keep in the ba… Where all my tin soldiers are lyin… Were gathered in Autumn by nursie… In a wood with a well by the side…
Smooth it glides upon its travel, Here a wimple, there a gleam— O the clean gravel! O the smooth stream! Sailing blossoms, silver fishes,
Whenever the moon and stars are se… Whenever the wind is high, All night long in the dark and wet… A man goes riding by. Late in the night when the fires a…
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
Peace and her huge invasion to the… Puts daily home; innumerable sails Dawn on the far horizon and draw n… Innumerable loves, uncounted hopes To our wild coasts, not darkling n…
We travelled in the print of olden… Yet all the land was green, And love we found, and peace, Where fire and war had been. They pass and smile, the children…
I will make you brooches and toys… Of bird-song at morning and star-s… I will make a palace fit for you a… Of green days in forests and blue… I will make my kitchen, and you sh…
She rested by the Broken Brook, She drank of Weary Well, She moved beyond my lingering look… Ah, whither none can tell! She came, she went. In other lan…