#ScottishWriters
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,
Bright is the ring of words When the right man rings them, Fair the fall of songs When the singer sings them. Still they are carolled and said —
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,
IT’S forth across the roaring foa… It’s many a lonely league from hom… From where the dogs of Scotland c… To where the flags are flying besi… Where all the deep—sea galleons ri…
Who comes to—night? We open the d… Who comes? My bursting walls, can… The presences that now together th… Your narrow entry, as with flowers… As with the air of life, the breat…
MY heart, when first the blackbir… My heart drinks in the song: Cool pleasure fills my bosom throu… And spreads each nerve along. My bosom eddies quietly,
HERE lies Erotion, whom at six y… Fate pilfered. Stranger (when I t… Who shall succeed me in my rural f… To this small spirit annual honour… Bright be thy hearth, hale be thy…
Every night my prayers I say, And get my dinner every day; And every day that I’ve been good… I get an orange after food. The child that is not clean and ne…
Down by a shining water well I found a very little dell, No higher than my head. The heather and the gorse about In summer bloom were coming out,
I read, dear friend, in your dear… Your life’s tale told with perfect… The river of your life, I trace Up the sun-chequered, devious bed To the far-distant fountain-head.
In dreams, unhappy, I behold you… As heretofore: The unremembered tokens in your ha… Avail no more. No more the morning glow, no more…
It’s rainin’. Weet’s the gairden… Weet the lang roads whaur gangrels… A maist unceevil thing o’ God In mid July — If ye’ll just curse the sneckdraw,…
Little Indian, Sioux, or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, Oh! don’t you wish that you were m… You have seen the scarlet trees
The coach is at the door at last; The eager children, mounting fast And kissing hands, in chorus sing: Good—bye, good—bye, to everything! To house and garden, field and law…
STILL I love to rhyme, and stil… Far from the commoner way; Old—time trills and falls by the b… Dreaming to—morrow to—day. Come here, come, revive me, Sun—G…
