#ScottishWriters
Lord, I have laid my heart upon t… But cannot get the wood to burn; It hardly flares ere it begins to… And to the dark return. Old sap, or night-fallen dew, make…
WHAT though my words glance side… Which I would utter in thine ear,… Truth in the inward parts thou dos… Wise hunger, not a fitness fine of… The little child that clamouring f…
Doon cam the sunbeams, and up gaed… As we spangt ower the road at ten… The horse wasna timmer, the cart w… And little cared we for the burn o… We war young, and the hert in’s wa…
There is a river whose waters run asleep run run ever singing in the shallows dumb in the hollows
They say that lonely sorrows do no… More gently, I think, sorrows tog… A new one joins the funeral glidin… With less of jar than when it brea… Grief swages grief, and joy doth j…
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…
I.-THIS SIDE AN’ THAT. The rich man sat in his father’s s… Purple an’ linen, an’ a’thing fine… The puir man lay at his yett i’ th… Sairs an’ tatters, an’ weary pine!
Within my heart a worm had long be… I knew it not when I went down an… Because some servants of my inner… Had not, I found, of late been do… But then I spied the horror hideo…
I. I honour Nature, holding it un… To look with jealousy on her desig… With every passing year more fast… About my heart; with her mysteriou… Claim I a fellowship not less aug…
Brother artist, help me; come! Artists are a maimed band: I have words but not a hand; Thou hast hands though thou art du… Had I thine, when words did fail–
Great-hearted child, thy very bein… The Son, Who know’st the hearts of all us p… For who is prodigal but he who has… Far from the true to heart it with…
To My Father Take of the first fruits, father,… Wrapped in the fresh leaves of my… Late waked for early gifts ill und… Claiming in all my harvests rightf…
We doubt the word that tells us:… And ye shall have your prayer; We turn our thoughts as to a task, With will constrained and rare. And yet we have; these scanty pray…
All things are shadows of thee, L… The sun himself is but thy shade; My spirit is the shadow of thy wor… A thing that thou hast said. Diamonds are shadows of the sun,
Gray clouds my heaven have covered… My sea ebbs fast, no more to flow; Ghastly and dry, my desert shore Parched, bare, unsightly things do… ’Tis thou, Lord, cloudest up my s…