#Scots #XIXCentury
Where the bud has never blown Who for scent is debtor? Where the spirit rests unknown Fatal is the letter. In thee, Jesus, Godhead-stored,
Love is the part, and love is the… Love is the robe, and love is the… Ruler of heart and brain and soul, Love is the lord and the slave of… I thank thee, Love, that thou lov…
To whom the heavy burden clings, It yet may serve him like a staff; One day the cross will break in wi… The sinner laugh a holy laugh. The dwarfed Zacchaeus climbed a t…
There may be seeming calm above, b… There is a pulse below which cease… A subterranean working, fiery hot, Deep in the million-hearted bosom,… Earthquakes unlock not the prodigi…
’Tis a poor drizzly morning, dark… The cloud has fallen, and filled w… The chimneyed city; and the smoke… And spreads diluted in the cloud,… A black precipitate, on miry stree…
I was very cold In the summer weather; The sun shone all his gold, But I was very cold– Alas, we were grown old,
‘What maks ye sae canty, granny de… Has some kin’ body been for ye to… Ye luik as smilin an’ fain an’ wil… As gien ye had fun a bonny shillin… ‘Ye think I luik canty, my bonny…
Annie she’s dowie, and Willie he’… What can be the matter wi’ siccan… For Annie she’s fair as the first… And Willie he’s honest and stalwa… Oh, the tane has a daddy is poor a…
I like ye weel upo Sundays, Nanni… I’ yer goon and yer ribbons and a’… But I like ye better on Mondays,… Whan ye’re no sae buskit and braw. For whan we’re sittin sae douce,…
The homely words how often read! How seldom fully known! ‘Which father of you, asked for br… Would give his son a stone?’ How oft has bitter tear been shed,
Look! look there! Send your eyes across the gray By my finger-point away Through the vaporous, fumy air. Beyond the air, you see the dark?
When peevish flaws his soul have s… To fretful tears for crossed desir… Obedient to his mother’s word My child to banishment retires. As disappears the moon, when wind
I am weary, and very lonely, And can but think-think. If there were some water only That a spirit might drink-drink, And arise,
A Microcosm In Terza Rima Quiet I lay at last, and knew no… Whether I breathed or not, so wor… With the death-struggle. What was… Neither I met, nor turned from it…
Oh! the bonny, bonny dell, whaur t… Wi’ a clip o’ the sunshine atween… Whaur the birks are a’ straikit wi… And the brume hings its lamps by d… Whaur the burnie comes trottin owe…
