His face, his words, her heart awo… Awoke her slumbering truth; She judged him well; her bonds she… And fled to him for ruth. With tears she washed his weary fe…

Lord, I’m an auld man, An’ I’m deein! An’ do what I can I canna help bein Some feart at the thoucht!

There was an auld fisher, he sat b… An’ luikit oot ower the sea; The bairnies war playin, he smil’t… But the tear stude in his e’e. An’ it’s-oh to win awa, awa!

Content Primroses, With hearts at rest in your thick… Peeping as from his mother’s lap t… Who courts shy shelter from his ow… Hanging Harebell,

Father, in the dark I lay, Thirsting for the light, Helpless, but for hope alway In thy father-might. Out of darkness came the morn,

Daylight fades away. Is the Lord at hand In the shadows gray Stealing on the land? Gently from the east

A lang-backit, spilgie, fuistit au… Gangs a’ nicht rakin athort the wa… Wi’ a pock on his back, luikin hun… His crook-fingert han’ aye followi… He gathers up a’thing that canna b…

Why came in dreams the low-born ma… Between thee and thy rest? In vain thy whispered message ran, Though justice was its quest! Did some young ignorant angel dare…

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…

Merry, merry we well may be, For Jesus Christ is come down to… Long before, at the top of the sta… He set our angels a waiting there, Waiting hither and thither to fly,

When I am dead unto myself, and l… O Father, thee live on in me, Contented to do nought but pay my… And leave the house to thee, Then shall I be thy ransomed-from…

Strait is the path? He means we m… Yes; but the strait path leads int…

Such guests as you, sir, were not… When I my homely dish with care d… ’Twas certain humble souls I woul… Who do not turn from wholesome mil… You came, slow-trotting on the nar…

The lightning and thunder They go and they come: But the stars and the stillness Are always at home.

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