#Scots
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
Their eyes met; flashed an instant… That leapt unparring to each other… Jarring convulsion through the inm… Then fell, for they had fully done… She, in the manner of her folk unv…
LOVE’S DAWN Still thine eyes haunt me; in the… The dreamtime, the hushed stillnes… I see them shining pure and earnes… And here, all lonely, may I not a…
Sleepless himself to give to other… He giveth His beloved sleep. I HEARD the sounding of the mid… The others one by one had left the… In calm assurance that the graciou…
Mr. MacCall at Cleveland Hall, Sunday evening—date to fix— Fifteenth April, sixty-six, Speech reported and redacted By a fellow much distracted.
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…
Eastwards through busy streets I… Jostled by anxious crowds, who, he… Were so absorbed in dreams of Mam… That they could spare no time to l… The sunset’s gold and crimson fire…
The wine of Love is music, And the feast of Love is song: And when Love sits down to the ba… Love sits long: Sits long and arises drunken,
He cried out through the night: “Where is the light? Shall nevermore Open Heaven’s door? Oh, I am left
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
This field of stones, he said, May well call forth a sigh; Beneath them lie the dead, On them the living lie.
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…
In the endless nights, from my bed… I startle the stillness and gloom… 0 Love! 0 Beloved long lost! come… For my heart is wasting and dying… Come down for a moment! oh, come!…
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…
WHEN one is forty years and seve… Is seven and forty sad years old, He looks not onward for his Heave… The future is too blank and cold, Its pale flowers smell of graveyar…