#ScottishWriters
From the bonny bells of heather They brewed a drink long—syne, Was sweeter far than honey, Was stronger far than wine. They brewed it and they drank it,
For the long nights you lay awake And watched for my unworthy sake: For your most comfortable hand That led me through the uneven lan… For all the story—books you read:
AWAY with funeral music– set The pipe to powerful lips— The cup of life’s for him that dri… And not for him that sips.
HERE in the quiet eve My thankful eyes receive The quiet light. I see the trees stand fair Against the faded air,
The moon has a face like the clock… She shines on thieves on the garde… On streets and fields and harbour… And birdies asleep in the forks of… The squalling cat and the squeakin…
Resign the rhapsody, the dream, To men of larger reach; Be ours the quest of a plain theme… The piety of speech. As monkish scribes from morning br…
When I was down beside the sea A wooden spade they gave to me To dig the sandy shore. My holes were empty like a cup. In every hole the sea came up
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.
I sit and wait a pair of oars On cis-Elysian river-shores. Where the immortal dead have sate, 'T is mine to sit and meditate; To re-ascend life’s rivulet,
It is not yours, O mother, to com… Not, mother, yours to weep, Though nevermore your son again Shall to your bosom creep, Though nevermore again you watch y…
Historical Associations Dear Uncle Jim. this garden groun… That now you smoke your pipe aroun… has seen immortal actions done And valiant battles lost and won.
TO her, for I must still regard h… As feminine in her degree, Who has been my unkind bombarder Year after year, in grief and glee… Year after year, with oaken tree;
The Lord Himsel’ in former days Waled out the proper tunes for pra… An’ named the proper kind o’ claes For folk to preach in: Preceese and in the chief o’ ways
I SEND to you, commissioners, A paper that may please ye, sirs (For troth they say it might be wo… An’ I believe’t) And on your business lay my curse
AS swallows turning backward When half—way o’er the sea, At one word’s trumpet summons They came again to me — The hopes I had forgotten