#ScottishWriters
God gives his child upon his slate… To find eternity in hours and year… With both sides covered, back the… His dim eyes swollen with shed and… God smiles, wipes clean the upper…
The dreary wind of night is out, Homeless and wandering slow; O’er pale seas moaning like a doub… It breathes, but will not blow. It sighs from out the helpless pas…
Win’ that blaws the simmer plaid Ower the hie hill’s shoothers laid… Green wi’ gerse, an’ reid wi’ heat… Welcome wi’ yer sowl-like weather! Mony a win’ there has been sent
‘Earth, if aught should check thy… Rushing through unfended space, Headlong, stayless, thou wilt fall Into yonder glowing ball!’ ‘Beggar of the universe,
For years eighteen she, patient so… Her eyes had graveward sent; Her earthly life was lapt in dole, She was so bowed and bent. What words! To her? Who can be ne…
A Part Of The Story Omitted In… How sir Galahad despaired of find… Through the wood the sunny day Glimmered sweetly glad; Through the wood his weary way
There is a river whose waters run asleep run run ever singing in the shallows dumb in the hollows
Now have I grown a sharpness and… Unto my future nights, and I will… Sheer through the ebon gates that… On every set of day; or as a sledg… Drawn over snowy plains; where not…
I pray you, all ye men who put you… In moulds and systems and well-tac… Holding that Nature lives from ye… In one continual round because she… Set me not down, I pray you, in t…
I was very cold In the summer weather; The sun shone all his gold, But I was very cold– Alas, we were grown old,
Thou foldest me in sickness; Thou callest through the cloud; I batter with the thickness Of the swathing, blinding shroud: Oh, let me see thy face,
Summer is come again. The sun is… And the soft wind is breathing. A… Is sparkling in thine eyes, and in… My soul is shining. Come; our day… Shall be to revel in unlikely thin…
‘And yet it moves!’ Ah, Truth, wh… When all for thee they racked each… Wert thou in heaven, and busy with… When those poor hands convulsed th… Art thou a phantom that deceives!…
Ane by ane they gang awa; The getherer gethers grit and sma’… Ane by ane maks ane and a’! Aye whan ane sets doon the cup Ane ahint maun tak it up:
Chained is the Spring. The Night… Blows over the hard earth; Time is not more confused and cold… Nor keeps more wintry mirth. Yet blow, and roll the world about…