#Scots #XIXCentury
If I might guess, then guess I wo… That, mid the gathered folk, This gentle Dorcas one day stood, And heard when Jesus spoke. She saw the woven seamless coat–
When the snow is on the earth Birds and waters cease their mirth… When the sunlight is prevailing Even the night-winds drop their wa… On the earth when deep snows lie
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…
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,
Still am I haunting Thy door with my prayers; Still they are panting Up thy steep stairs! Wouldst thou not rather
Strait is the path? He means we m… Yes; but the strait path leads int…
’Tis we, not in thine arms, who we… The children in thy bosom laugh an…
Whence do ye come, ye creatures?… Is perfect as an angel! wings and… Stupendous in their beauty-gorgeou… In feathery fields of purple and o… Would God I saw a moment as ye do…
The infant lies in blessed ease Upon his mother’s breast; No storm, no dark, the baby sees Invade his heaven of rest. He nothing knows of change or deat…
Of old, with goodwill from the ski… God’s message to them given– The angels came, a glad surprise, And went again to heaven. But now the angels are grown rare,
The silence of traitorous feet! The silence of close-pent rage! The roar, and the sudden heart-bea… And the shot through the true hear… The truest heart of the age!
Lord of the world’s undying youth, What joys are in thy might! What beauties of the inner truth, And of the outer sight! And when the heart is dim and sad,
See how the storm of life ascends Up through the shadow of the world… Beyond our gaze the line extends, Like wreaths of vapour tempest-hur… Grasp tighter, brother, lest the s…
If thou hadst been a sculptor, wha… Of forms divine had thenceforth fi… Methinks I see thee, glorious wor… Striking a marble window through b… Thy face’s reflex on the coming fa…
Why dost thou want to sing When thou hast no song, my heart? If there be in thee a hidden sprin… Wherefore will no word start? On its way thou hearest no song,