#ScottishWriters
Lawrence, what though the world be… And twilight cool thy potent day i… The sun, beneath the round earth s… All the night through, sleepless a… Oh, be thy spirit faithful as the…
Oh! is it Death that comes To have a foretaste of the whole? To-night the planets and the stars Will glimmer through my window-bar… But will not shine upon my soul!
Whan Andrew frae Strathbogie gaed The lift was lowerin dreary, The sun he wadna raise his heid, The win’ blew laich and eerie. In’s pooch he had a plack or twa–
Back shining from the pane, the fi… Seems outside in the snow: So love set free from love’s desir… Lights grief of long ago. The dark is thinned with snow-shee…
Dead art thou? No more dead than… Over whose couch the saving God d… ‘She is not dead but sleepeth,’ sa… And took her by the hand! Thee knowledge never from Life’s…
THOU art of this world, Christ.… Thou know’st our evens, our morns,… How moons, and hearts, and seasons… How we grow weary plodding on the… Of future joy how present pain ber…
Through the unchanging heaven, as… Speed onward still, a strange wild… Fleet children of the waters! Glo… Whether the sun lift up his shinin… High throned at noontide and estab…
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
Be welcome, year! with corn and si… Make poor the body, but make rich… What man that bears his sheaves, g… Will heed the paint rubbed from hi… Nor leave behind thy fears and hol…
Cry out upon the crime, and then l… The dogs of hate, whose hanging mu… The bloody secret; let the welkin… Reverberating, while ye dance and… About the horrid blaze! or else ye…
The stars are all watching; God’s angel is catching At thy skirts in the darkness deep… Gold hinges grating, The mighty dead waiting,
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
Oh holy Sabbath bells, Ye have a pleasant voice! Through all the land your music sw… And man with one commandment tells To rest and to rejoice.
I love thy skies, thy sunny mists, Thy fields, thy mountains hoar, Thy wind that bloweth where it lis… Thy will, I love it more. I love thy hidden truth to seek
I like ye weel upo Sundays, Nanni… I’ yer goon and yer ribbons and a’… But I like ye better on Mondays,… Whan ye’re no sae buskit and braw. For whan we’re sittin sae douce,…