#Scots #XIXCentury
Trust my father, saith the eldest-… I did trust him ere the earth bega… Not to know him is to be forlorn; Not to love him is-not to be man. He that knows him loves him altoge…
Sweep up the flure, Janet; Put on anither peat. It’s a lown and a starry nicht, J… And nowther cauld nor weet. It’s the nicht atween the Sancts…
The Deil’s forhooit his ain, his… The Deil’s forhooit his ain! His bairns are greitin in ilka neu… For the Deil’s forhooit his ain. The Deil he tuik his stick and hi…
The monk was praying in his cell, With bowed head praying sore; He had been praying on his knees For two long hours and more. As of themselves, all suddenly,
I woke at midnight, and my heart, My beating heart, said this to me: Thou seest the moon, how calm and… The world is fair by day and night… But what is that to thee?
Prince Breacan of Denmark was lor… And lord of the billowy sea; Lord of the sea and lord of the la… He might have let maidens be! A maiden he met with locks of gold…
Here is a temple strangely wrought… Within it I can see Two spirits of a diverse thought Contend for mastery. One is an angel fair and bright,
Loosener of springs, he died by th… Softness, not hardness, sent him h… He loved thee-and thou mad’st him… Of all the place thou comest from!
Hark, the rain is on my roof! Every murmur, through the dark, Stings me with a dull reproof Like a half-extinguished spark. Me! ah me! how came I here,
The witch lady walked along the st… Heard a roaring of the sea, On the edge of a pool saw a dead m… Good thing for a witch lady! Lightly she stepped across the roc…
The lightning and thunder They go and they come: But the stars and the stillness Are always at home.
Love is the part, and love is the… Love is the robe, and love is the… Ruler of heart and brain and soul, Love is the lord and the slave of… I thank thee, Love, that thou lov…
She sitteth at the Master’s feet In motionless employ; Her ears, her heart, her soul comp… Drinks in the tide of joy. Ah! who but she the glory knows
There may be seeming calm above, b… There is a pulse below which cease… A subterranean working, fiery hot, Deep in the million-hearted bosom,… Earthquakes unlock not the prodigi…
Autumn clouds are flying, flying O’er the waste of blue; Summer flowers are dying, dying, Late so lovely new. Labouring wains are slowly rolling
