#ScottishWriters
Per me si va nella citta dolente. —Dante Poi di tanto adoprar, di tanti mot… D’ogni celeste, ogni terrena cosa, Girando senza posa,
Would some little joy to-day Visit us, heart! Could it but a moment stay, Then depart, With the flutter of its wings
What precious thing are you making… In all these silken lines? And where and to whom will it go a… Such subtle knots and twines! I am tying up all my love in this,
Who has a thing to bring For a gift to our lord the king, Our king all kings above? A young girl brought him love; And he dowered her with shame,
WHAT are these leaves dark-spott… ‘A very holy herb.’ To what good use may I this herb… 'Press it on thy soul’s hurt.’ When herb unto the hurt I thus ap…
Once in a saintly passion I cried with desperate grief, “O Lord, my heart is black with g… Of sinners I am chief.” Then stooped my guardian angel
The fire that filled my heart of o… Gave luster while it burned; Now only ashes gray and cold Are in its silence urned. Ah! better was the furious flame,
For I must sing of all I feel and… Waiting with Memnon passive near… Until the heavenly light doth dawn… And thrill my silence into mystic… From unknown realms the wind strea…
Give a man a horse he can ride, Give a man a boat he can sail; And his rank and wealth, his stren… On sea nor shore shall fail. Give a man a pipe he can smoke,
Waking one morning In a pleasant land, By a river flowing Over golden sand:— Whence flow ye, waters,
NOR did we lack our own right roy… The glory of our peaceful realm an… By no long years of restless trava… By no fierce wars or intrigues bla… Did he attain his superlofty place…
(AN VERY IDLE IDYLL B… This is the Heath of Hampstead, This is the Dome of Saint Paul’s… Beneath, on the serried house-tops… A chequered luster falls:
FROM the midst of the fire I fli… These arrows of fire to you: If they sing, and burn, and sting, You feel how I burn too; But if they reach you there
As we rush, as we rush in the Tra… The trees and the houses go wheeli… But the starry heavens above the p… Come flying on our track. All the beautiful stars of the sky…
Mr. MacCall at Cleveland Hall, Sunday evening—date to fix— Fifteenth April, sixty-six, Speech reported and redacted By a fellow much distracted.