#ScottishWriters
Dead art thou? No more dead than… Over whose couch the saving God d… ‘She is not dead but sleepeth,’ sa… And took her by the hand! Thee knowledge never from Life’s…
’Tis time to sleep, my little boy: Why gaze thy bright eyes so? At night our children, for new joy Home to thy father go, But thou art wakeful! Sleep, my c…
Of the poor bird that cannot fly Kindly you think and mournfully; For prisoners and for exiles all You let the tears of pity fall; And very true the grief should be
I shall be satisfied With the seeing of thy face. When I awake, wide-eyed, I shall be satisfied With what this life did hide,
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,
The bairns i’ their beds, worn oot… Are sleepin, nor ever an eelid win… The auld fowk lie still wi’ their… An’ the mirk pang-fou o’ the thing… Whan oot o’ ilk corner the bairnie…
Sometimes, O Lord, thou lightest… A lamp that well might pharos all… Anon the light will neither rise n… Shrouded in danger gray the beacon… A pharos? Oh dull brain! poor dyi…
Now in the dark of February rains… Poor lovers of the sunshine, sprin… The earthy fields are full of hidd… And March’s violets bud along the… Therefore with joy believe in what…
O God, whose daylight leadeth dow… Into the sunless way, Who with restoring sleep dost crow… The labour of the day! What I have done, Lord, make it c…
Down a warm alley, early in the ye… Among the woods, with all the suns… And all the winds outside it, I b… To think that something gracious w… If anything of grace inhabit here,
A glory on the chamber wall! A glory in the brain! Triumphant floods of glory fall On heath, and wold, and plain. Earth lieth still in hopeless blis…
A thousand houses of poesy stand a… They fill the earth and they fill… air; But to-night they have shut their… windows fair,
‘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…
‘I do beseech thee, God, show me… ‘Come up to me in Sinai on the mo… Thou shall behold as much as may b… And on a rock stood Moses, lone i… From Sinai’s top, the vaporous, t…
The stars cleave the sky. Yet for us they rest, And their race-course high Is a shining nest! The hours hurry on.