#Scots
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…
I SAW thee once, I see thee now; Thy pure young face, thy noble mie… Thy truthful eyes, thy radiant bro… All childlike, lovely, and serene; Rapt in harmonious visions proud,
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…
“Why are your songs all wild and b… As funeral dirges with the orphans… Each night since first the world w… A sequent day to laugh it down the… Chant us a glee to make our hearts…
This field of stones, he said, May well call forth a sigh; Beneath them lie the dead, On them the living lie.
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…
He cried out through the night: “Where is the light? Shall nevermore Open Heaven’s door? Oh, I am left
THROUGH foulest fogs of my own… Through midnight glooms of all the… Through sulphurous cannon-clouds t… Above the steam of blood in anger… Through all the sombre earth-oppre…
SHE was so good, and he was so ba… A very pretty time they had! A pretty time, and it lasted long: Which of the two was more in the w… He befouled in the slough of sin;
He came to the desert of London t… Gray miles long; He wandered up and he wandered dow… Singing a quiet song. He came to the desert of London t…
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…
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,
Per me si va nella citta dolente. —Dante Poi di tanto adoprar, di tanti mot… D’ogni celeste, ogni terrena cosa, Girando senza posa,
Mr. MacCall at Cleveland Hall, Sunday evening—date to fix— Fifteenth April, sixty-six, Speech reported and redacted By a fellow much distracted.