Hears’t thou the dash of water, lo… With its perpetual tidings upward… Struggling against the wind? Oh,… For not in vain from its portentou… Thy heart, wild stream, hath yearn…

Here much and little shift and cha… With scale of need and time; There more and less have meanings… Which the world cannot rime. Sickness may be more hale than hea…

‘Traveller, what lies over the hil… Traveller, tell to me: Tip-toe-high on the window-sill Over I cannot see.’ ‘My child, a valley green lies the…

Rose o’ my hert, Open yer leaves to the lampin mune… Into the curls lat her keek an’ de… She’ll tak the colour but gie ye t… Buik o’ my brain,

When the cock crows loud from the… And the moor-cock chirrs from the… What hear ye and see ye then, Ye children of air and ether? 1st Echo

Who lights the fire-that forth so… And freely frolicketh the fairy sm… Some pretty one who never felt the… Glad girl, or maiden more sedate t… Pedant it cannot, villain cannot b…

There is a river whose waters run asleep run run ever singing in the shallows dumb in the hollows

Here stands a giant stone from who… Comes down the sounding water: let… Till every sense of man and human… Is wrecked and quenched for ever,… Into the whirl of time, and withou…

The brother knew well the castle o… Every closet, each outlook fair, Every turret and bartizan bold, Every chamber, garnished or bare. The brother was out in the heavenl…

Come to me, come to me, O my God; Come to me everywhere! Let the trees mean thee, and the g… And the water and the air! For thou art so far that I often…

A clock aeonian, steady and tall, With its back to creation’s flamin… Stands at the foot of a dim, wide… Swing, swang, its pendulum goes, Swing-swang-here-there!

Winter froze both brook and well; Fast and fast the snowflakes fell; Children gathered round the hearth Made a summer of their mirth; When a boy, so lately come

It is no winter night comes down Upon our hearts, dear friends of o… But a May evening, softly brown, Whose wind is rather cold. We are not, like yon sad-eyed Wes…

He who by a mother’s love Made the wandering world his own, Every year comes from above, Comes the parted to atone, Binding Earth to the Father’s thr…

Doon cam the sunbeams, and up gaed… As we spangt ower the road at ten… The horse wasna timmer, the cart w… And little cared we for the burn o… We war young, and the hert in’s wa…