#ScottishWriters
Some men there are who cannot spar… A single tear until they feel The last cold pressure, and the he… Is stamped upon the outmost layer. And, waking, some will sigh to thi…
I said, I will arise and work som… Nor be content with growth, but ca… A life around me, clear as yes fro… That to my restless hand some rest… And give a vital power to Action’…
Here is a temple strangely wrought… Within it I can see Two spirits of a diverse thought Contend for mastery. One is an angel fair and bright,
Enough he labours for his hire; Yea, nought can pay his pain; But powers that wear and waste and… Need help to toil again. They give him freely all they can,
‘WHO is this little one lying,’ Said Time, ‘at my garden-gate, Moaning and sobbing and crying, Out in the cold so late?’ ‘They lurked until we came near,
If I might guess, then guess I wo… That, mid the gathered folk, This gentle Dorcas one day stood, And heard when Jesus spoke. She saw the woven seamless coat–
There cam a man to oor toon-en’, And a waesome carl was he, Snipie-nebbit, and crookit-mou’d, And gleyt o’ a blinterin ee. Muckle he spied, and muckle he spa…
The stars are spinning their threa… And the clouds are the dust that f… And the suns are weaving them up For the day when the sleepers aris… The ocean in music rolls,
The monk was praying in his cell, With bowed head praying sore; He had been praying on his knees For two long hours and more. As of themselves, all suddenly,
Babe Jesus lay in Mary’s lap, The sun shone in his hair; And this was how she saw, mayhap, The crown already there. For she sang: ‘Sleep on, my littl…
Out of thy door I run to do the t… That calls upon me. Straight the… Whoops from mine ears the sounds o… About their work, ‘My God, my fat… I turn in haste to see thy blessed…
Were thou and I the white pinions On some eager, heaven-born dove, Swift would we mount to the old do… To our rest of old, my love! Were thou and I trembling strands
‘Rejoice,’ said the Sun; ‘I will… With glory and gladness and holida… I am dumb, O man, and I need thy… But man would not rejoice. ‘Rejoice in thyself,’ said he, ‘O…
A pool of broken sunbeams lay Upon the passage-floor, Radiant and rich, profound and gay As ever diamond bore. Small, flitting hands a handkerchi…
Well for youth to seek the strong, Beautiful, and brave! We, the old, who walk along Gently to the grave, Only pay our court to thee,