#ScottishWriters
In rigorous hours, when down the i… The redbreast looks in vain For hips and haws, Lo, shining flowers upon my window… The silver pencil of the winter dr…
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,
AS in their flight the birds of s… Halt here and there in sweet and s… But halt not overlong; The time one rural song to sing They pause; then following bounteo…
Dark brown is the river, Golden is the sand. It flows along for ever, With trees on either hand. Green leaves a—floating,
O DULL cold northern sky, O brawling sabbath bells, O feebly twittering Autumn bird t… The year is like to die! O still, spoiled trees, O city wa…
When children are playing alone on… In comes the playmate that never w… When children are happy and lonely… The Friend of the Children comes… Nobody heard him, and nobody saw,
From breakfast on through all the… At home among my friends I stay, But every night I go abroad Afar into the land of Nod. All by myself I have to go,
I have a little shadow that goes i… And what can be the use of him is… He is very, very like me from the… And I see him jump before me, whe… The funniest thing about him is th…
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…
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…
I have trod the upward and the dow… I have endured and done in days be… I have longed for all, and bid far… And I have lived and loved, and c…
The tropics vanish, and meseems th… From Halkerside, from topmost All… Or steep Caerketton, dreaming gaz… Far set in fields and woods, the t… Spring gallant from the shallows o…
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…
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…
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