#ScottishWriters
‘Traveller, what lies over the hil… Traveller, tell to me: Tip-toe-high on the window-sill Over I cannot see.’ ‘My child, a valley green lies the…
Lord, what is man That thou art mindful of him! Though in creation’s van, Lord, what is man! He wills less than he can,
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…
Trust him in the common light; Trust him in the awesome night; Trust him when the earth doth quak… Trust him when thy heart doth ache… Trust him when thy brain doth reel
Now have I grown a sharpness and… Unto my future nights, and I will… Sheer through the ebon gates that… On every set of day; or as a sledg… Drawn over snowy plains; where not…
If thou art tempted by a thought o… Crave not too soon for victory, no… Thou art a coward if thy safety se… To spring too little from a righte… For there is nightmare on thee, no…
Trust my father, saith the eldest-… I did trust him ere the earth bega… Not to know him is to be forlorn; Not to love him is-not to be man. He that knows him loves him altoge…
‘What gars ye sing,’ said the herd… ‘What gars ye sing sae lood?’ ‘To tice them oot o’ the yerd, lad… The worms for my daily food.’ An’ aye he sang, an’ better he san…
Beautiful stories wed with lovely… Like words and music:-what shall b… Of love and nobleness that might a… To express in action what this swe… The sweetness of a day of airs and…
Days of old, Ye are not dead, though gone from… Ye are not cold, But like the summer-birds fled o’e… The sun brings back the swallows f…
Near him she stole, rank after ran… She feared approach too loud; She touched his garment’s hem, and… Back in the sheltering crowd. A shame-faced gladness thrills her…
It is no winter night comes down Upon our hearts, dear friends of o… But a May evening, softly brown, Whose wind is rather cold. We are not, like yon sad-eyed Wes…
Methought I floated sightless, no… That I had ears until I heard the… As of a mighty man in agony: ‘How long, Lord, shall I lie thus… The arrows of thy lightning throug…
O Father, I am in the dark, My soul is heavy-bowed: I send my prayer up like a lark, Up through my vapoury shroud, To find thee,
Oh that a wind would call From the depths of the leafless wo… Oh that a voice would fall On the ear of my solitude! Far away is the sea,