The times are changed, and gone th… When the high heavenly land, Though unbeheld, quite near them l… And men could understand. The dead yet find it, who, when he…

Little one, you must not fret That I take your clothes away; Better sleep you so will get, And at morning wake more gay– Saith the children’s mother.

I do remember how, when very young… I saw the great sea first, and hea… As I drew nearer, caught within t… Of its vast size and its mysteriou… How the floor trembled, and the da…

Lie down upon the ground, thou hop… Press thy face in the grass, and d… Dost feel the green globe whirl?… Climbeth she out of darkness to th… Which is her God; seven times she…

A pool of broken sunbeams lay Upon the passage-floor, Radiant and rich, profound and gay As ever diamond bore. Small, flitting hands a handkerchi…

The Man says: Laverock i’ the lift, Hae ye nae sang-thrift, ‘At ye scatter ’t sae heigh, and l… Wasterfu laverock!

‘What maks ye sae canty, granny de… Has some kin’ body been for ye to… Ye luik as smilin an’ fain an’ wil… As gien ye had fun a bonny shillin… ‘Ye think I luik canty, my bonny…

Out of thy door I run to do the t… That calls upon me. Straight the… Whoops from mine ears the sounds o… About their work, ‘My God, my fat… I turn in haste to see thy blessed…

AND do not fear to hope. Can poe… More than the Father’s heart rich… Each time we smell the autumn’s dy… We know the primrose time will com… Not more we hope, nor less would s…

Comes there, O Earth, no breathin… No pause upon thy many-chequered l… Now resting on my bed with listles… I mourn thee resting not. Continu… Hear I the plashing borders of th…

THOU art of this world, Christ.… Thou know’st our evens, our morns,… How moons, and hearts, and seasons… How we grow weary plodding on the… Of future joy how present pain ber…

‘They have no more wine!’ she said… But they had enough of bread; And the vessels by the door Held for thirst a plenteous store: Yes,

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 Thou that walkest with nigh hop… Past the one harbour, built for th… Doth no stray odour from its table… No truant beam from fire or candle… At his wide door the host doth sta…

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…