#ScottishWriters
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
I am a kind of farthing dip, Unfriendly to the nose and eyes; A blue-behinded ape, I skip Upon the trees of Paradise. At mankind’s feast, I take my pla…
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,
The relic taken, what avails the s… The locket, pictureless? O heart… Art thou not worse than that, Still warm, a vacant nest where lo… Her image nestled closer at my hea…
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…
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…
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
COME, my beloved, hear from me Tales of the woods or open sea. Let our aspiring fancy rise A wren’s flight higher toward the… Or far from cities, brown and bare…
So shall this book wax like unto a… Fairy with mirrored flowers about… Or like some tarn that wailing cur… Glassing the sallow uplands or bro… And so, as men go down into a dell
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,
We see you as we see a face That trembles in a forest place Upon the mirror of a pool Forever quiet, clear and cool; And in the wayward glass, appears
TO what shall I compare her, That is as fair as she? For she is fairer —fairer Than the sea. What shall be likened to her,
I DO not fear to own me kin To the glad clods in which spring… Or to my brothers, the great trees… That speak with pleasant voices in… Loud talkers with the winds that p…
“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…
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…