#Scots #XIXCentury
Frae nirly, nippin’, Eas’lan’ bre… Frae Norlan’ snaw, an’ haar o’ se… Weel happit in your gairden trees, A bonny bit, Atween the muckle Pentland’s knee…
As in the hostel by the bridge I… Nailed with indifference fondly de… And (O strange chance, more sorro… The counterfeit of her that was my… Dressed in like vesture, graceful…
Fifteen men on the Dead Man’s Ch… Yo—ho—ho, and a bottle of rum! Drink and the devil had done for t… Yo—ho—ho, and a bottle of rum!
The stormy evening closes now in v… Loud wails the wind and beats the… While here in sheltered house With fire-ypainted walls, I hear the wind abroad,
LOOK round: You see a little sup… But from my window, lo! great Cae… And the great dead themselves, wit… Bid you be merry and remember deat…
If two may read aright These rhymes of old delight And house and garden play, You too, my cousins, and you only,… You in a garden green
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…
In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle—light. In summer quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and see
T last she comes, O never more In this dear patience of my pain To leave me lonely as before, Or leave my soul alone again.
Trusty, dusky, vivid, true, With eyes of gold and bramble—dew, Steel—true and blade—straight, The great artificer Made my mate.
With half a heart I wander here As from an age gone by A brother yet—though young in year… An elder brother, I. You speak another tongue than mine…
HAD I the power that have the wi… The enfeebled will– a modern curse… This book of mine should blossom s… A perfect garden—ground of verse. White placid marble gods should ke…
Grown about by fragrant bushes, Sunken in a winding valley, Where the clear winds blow And the shadows come and go, And the cattle stand and low
I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited… Or feigned to visit, now, my day b… Do slumber wholly; nor shall know… The weariness of changes; nor perc… Immeasurable sands of centuries
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
