When, long ago, the daring of my y… Drew nigh thy greatness with a lit… Thou didst receive me; and thy sky… Has domed me since, a heaven of sh… Made homely by the tenderness and…

Whan Andrew frae Strathbogie gaed The lift was lowerin dreary, The sun he wadna raise his heid, The win’ blew laich and eerie. In’s pooch he had a plack or twa–

They are blind, and they are dead: We will wake them as we go; There are words have not been said… There are sounds they do not know: We will pipe and we will sing–

This is the sweetness of an April… The softness of the spring is on t… Of the old year. She has no natur… But something comes to her from fa… Out of the Past, and on her old d…

Shepherd, on before thy sheep, Hear thy lamb that bleats behind! Scarce the track I stumbling keep… Through my thin fleece blows the w… Turn and see me, Son of Man!

I will think as thinks the rabbit:… Oh, delight In the night When the moon Sets the tune

A pale green sky is gleaming; The steely stars are few; The moorland pond is steaming A mist of gray and blue. Along the pathway lonely

Heavily slumbered noonday bright Upon the lone field, glory-dight, A burnished grassy sea: The child, in gorgeous golden hour… Through heaven-descended starry fl…

Be welcome, year! with corn and si… Make poor the body, but make rich… What man that bears his sheaves, g… Will heed the paint rubbed from hi… Nor leave behind thy fears and hol…

I am weary, and very lonely, And can but think-think. If there were some water only That a spirit might drink-drink, And arise,

In God alone, the perfect end, Wilt thou find thyself or friend.

From out a windy cleft there comes… Of eyes unearthly, which go to and… Upon the people’s tumult, for belo… The nations smite each other: no a… Troubles their liquid rolling, or…

Where did you come from, baby dear… Out of the everywhere into here. Where did you get those eyes so bl… Out of the sky as I came through. What makes the light in them spark…

From the German of Dessler . O Lord, how happy is the time When in thy love I rest! When from my weariness I climb

And weep not, though the Beautifu… Within thy heart, as daily in thin… Thy heart must have its autumn, it… Leading, mayhap, to winter’s dim d… Yet doubt not. Beauty doth not pa…