#Scots #XIXCentury
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…
The mountain-stream may humbly boa… For her the loud waves call; The hamlet feeds the nation’s host… The home-farm feeds the hall; And unto earth heaven’s Lord doth…
Tumultuous rushing o’er the outstr… A wildered maze of comets and of s… The blood of changeless God that… With quick diastole up the immorta… A phantom host that moves and work…
Her mother, Elfie older grown, One evening, for adieu, Said, 'You’ll not mind being left… For God takes care of you!’ In child-way her heart’s eye did s…
Waking in the night to pray, Sleeping when the answer comes, Foolish are we even at play– Tearfully we beat our drums! Cast the good dry bread away,
Little White Lily Sat by a stone, Drooping and waiting Till the sun shone. Little White Lily
December 28, 1879 A dim, vague shrinking haunts my s… My spirit bodeth ill– As some far-off restraining bank Had burst, and waters, many a rank…
Better to smell the violet Than sip the glowing wine; Better to hearken to a brook Than watch a diamond shine. Better to have a loving friend
O God, whose daylight leadeth dow… Into the sunless way, Who with restoring sleep dost crow… The labour of the day! What I have done, Lord, make it c…
From out a windy cleft there comes… Of eyes unearthly, which go to and… Upon the people’s tumult, for belo… The nations smite each other: no a… Troubles their liquid rolling, or…
My TO-MORROW is but a flitting Fancy of the brain; God’s TO-MORROW an angel sitti… Ready for joy or pain. My TO-MORROW has no soul,
Quiet, quiet dead, Have ye aught to say From your hidden bed In the earthy clay? Fathers, children, mothers,
I have only one foot, but thousand… My one foot stands well, but never… I’ve a good many arms, if you coun… But hundreds of fingers, large and… From the ends of my fingers my bea…
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…
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,
