#ScottishWriters
Oh, melancholy fragment of the nig… Drawing thy lazy web against the s… Thou shouldst have waited till the… With kindred glooms to build thy f… Sublime amid the ruins of the ligh…
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…
Is there a secret Joy, that may n… For every flower that ends its lit… For every child that groweth up to… For every captive bird a cage doth… For every aching eye that went to…
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!
O Peter, wherefore didst thou dou… Indeed the spray flew fast about, But he was there whose walking foo… Could make the wandering hills tak… And he had said, ‘Come down to me…
’Tis not the violent hands alone t… The curse, the ravage, and the dow… Although to these full oft the yaw… Owes deadly surfeit; but a keener… A more immortal agony will cling
O Lord, I cannot but believe The birds do sing thy praises then… And they are lying seed-sown land… Their little bosoms breeding songs… If thou hadst finished me, O Lord…
I am a bubble Upon thy ever-moving, resting sea: Oh, rest me now from tossing, tres… Take me down into thee. Give me thy peace.
Victorious through failure! faithf… Who for twelve angel legions would… From thine own country of eternal… To shield thee from the lanterned… Making thy one rash servant sheath…
Cry out upon the crime, and then l… The dogs of hate, whose hanging mu… The bloody secret; let the welkin… Reverberating, while ye dance and… About the horrid blaze! or else ye…
Methinks I see thee, lying straig… Silent and darkling, in thy earthy… The mighty strength in which I tr… The long arms lying careless of ki… On thy tall form I see the night-…
If I did seem to you no more Than to myself I seem, Not thus you would fling wide the… And on the beggar beam! You would not don your radiant bes…
I have only one foot, but thousand… My one foot stands well, but never… I’ve a good many arms, if you coun… But hundreds of fingers, large and… From the ends of my fingers my bea…
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…
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,