#ScottishWriters
LO, now, my guest, if aught amiss… Forgive it and dismiss it from you… For me, for you, for all, to close… Pass now the ev’ning sponge across… And to that spirit of forgiveness…
I will make you brooches and toys… Of bird—song at morning and star—s… I will make a palace fit for you a… Of green days in forests and blue… I will make my kitchen, and you sh…
He hears with gladdened heart the… Peal, and loves the falling dew; He knows the earth above and under… Sits and is content to view. He sits beside the dying ember,
All around the house is the jet—bl… It stares through the window—pane; It crawls in the corners, hiding f… And it moves with the moving flame… Now my little heart goes a beating…
NOW bare to the beholder’s eye Your late denuded bindings lie, Subsiding slowly where they fell, A disinvested citadel; The obdurate corset, Cupid’s foe,
LET love go, if go she will. Seek not, O fool, her wanton flig… Of all she gives and takes away The best remains behind her still. The best remains behind; in vain
I read, dear friend, in your dear… Your life’s tale told with perfect… The river of your life, I trace Up the sun-chequered, devious bed To the far-distant fountain-head.
CALL me not rebel, though { here… {in what I sing If I no longer hail thee { King a… { Lord and King I have redeemed myself with all I…
OVER the land is April, Over my heart a rose; Over the high, brown mountain The sound of singing goes. Say, love, do you hear me,
FEAR not, dear friend, but freel… Though lesser lives should suffer.… A lesser life, that what is his of… Gladly would give for you, and wha… Step, without trouble, down the su…
WHETHER upon the garden seat You lounge with your uplifted feet Under the May’s whole Heaven of b… Or whether on the sofa you, No grown up person being by,
In dreams, unhappy, I behold you… As heretofore: The unremembered tokens in your ha… Avail no more. No more the morning glow, no more…
AS swallows turning backward When half—way o’er the sea, At one word’s trumpet summons They came again to me — The hopes I had forgotten
T last she comes, O never more In this dear patience of my pain To leave me lonely as before, Or leave my soul alone again.
TO what shall I compare her, That is as fair as she? For she is fairer —fairer Than the sea. What shall be likened to her,