#ScottishWriters
Out of the sun, out of the blast, Out of the world, alone I passed Across the moor and through the wo… To where the monastery stood. There neither lute nor breathing f…
In all the grove, nor stream nor b… Nor aught beside my blows was hear… And the woods wore their noonday d… The glory of their silentness. From the island summit to the seas…
Before this little gift was come The little owner had made haste fo… And from the door of where the ete… Looked back on human things and sm… O may this grief remain the only o…
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.
OUR Johnie’s deid. The mair’s th… He’s deid, an’ deid o’ Aqua—vitae… O Embro’, you’re a shrunken city, Noo Johnie’s deid! Tak hands, an’ sing a burial ditty
WHEN the sun comes after rain And the bird is in the blue, The girls go down the lane Two by two. When the sun comes after shadow
ABOUT the sheltered garden groun… The trees stand strangely still. The vale ne’er seemed so deep befo… Nor yet so high the hill. An awful sense of quietness,
WHEN loud by landside streamlets… And clear in the greenwood quires… With sun on the meadows And songs in the shadows Comes again to me
NOW bare to the beholder’s eye Your late denuded bindings lie, Subsiding slowly where they fell, A disinvested citadel; The obdurate corset, Cupid’s foe,
Far `yont amang the years to be When a’ we think, an’ a’ we see, An’ a’ we luve, `s been dung ajee By time’s rouch shouther, An’ what was richt and wrang for m…
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…
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,
Youth now flees on feathered foot Faint and fainter sounds the flute… Rarer songs of gods; and still Somewhere on the sunny hill, Or along the winding stream,
As One Who Having Wandered All… AS one who having wandered all ni… In a perplexed forest, comes at le… In the first hours, about the mati… And when the sun uprises in his st…
The gauger walked with willing foo… And aye the gauger played the flut… And what should Master Gauger pla… But Over the hills and far away? Whene’er I buckle on my pack