#Scots #XIXCentury
Once only by the garden gate Our lips we joined and parted. I must fulfil an empty fate And travel the uncharted. Hail and farewell! I must arise,
FIXED is the doom; and to the la… Teacher and taught, friend, lover,… Each walks, though near, yet separ… His dear ones shine beyond him lik… We also, love, forever dwell apart…
THE summer sun shone round me, The folded valley lay In a stream of sun and odour, That sultry summer day. The tall trees stood in the sunlig…
The world is so full of a number o… I’m sure we should all be as happy…
Late in the nicht in bed I lay, The winds were at their weary play… An’ tirlin’ wa’s an’ skirlin’ wae Through Heev’n they battered; - On-ding o’ hail, on-blaff o’ spray…
Come up here, O dusty feet! Here is fairy ready to eat. Here in my retiring room, Children, you may dine On the golden smell of broom
GOD gave to me a child in part, Yet wholly gave the father’s heart… Child of my soul, O whither now, Unborn, unmothered, goest thou? You came, you went, and no man wis…
SO live, so love, so use that fra… That when the dark hand of the shi… Shall one from other, wife or husb… The poor survivor may not weep and…
I SEND to you, commissioners, A paper that may please ye, sirs (For troth they say it might be wo… An’ I believe’t) And on your business lay my curse
LOVE —what is love? A great and… Wrung hands; and silence; and a lo… Life —what is life? Upon a moorla… To see love coming and see love de…
Historical Associations Dear Uncle Jim. this garden groun… That now you smoke your pipe aroun… has seen immortal actions done And valiant battles lost and won.
IT blows a snowing gale in the wi… The boats are on the sea and the c… The needle of the vane, it is veer… A flash of sun is on the veering o… Autumn leaves and rain,
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…
Whenever Auntie moves around, Her dresses make a curious sound, They trail behind her up the floor… And trundle after through the door…
Friend, in my mountain-side demesn… My plain-beholding, rosy, green And linnet-haunted garden-ground, Let still the esculents abound. Let first the onion flourish there…