#Scots #XIXCentury
O NEPOS, twice my neigh(b)our (… We’re door by door, by Flora’s te… And in the country, still conjoine… Behold our villas standing gate by… Thou hast a daughter, dearer far t…
It’s strange that God should fash… The yearth and lift sae hie, An’ clean forget to explain the sa… To a gentleman like me. They gutsy, donnered ither folk,
THIS gloomy northern day, Or this yet gloomier night, Has moved a something high In my cold heart; and I, That do not often pray,
Three of us afloat in the meadow b… Three of us abroad in the basket o… Winds are in the air, they are blo… And waves are on the meadow like t… Where shall we adventure, to—day t…
“Chief of our aunts”—not only I, But all your dozen of nurselings c… “What did the other children do? And what were childhood, wanting y…
The embers of the day are red Beyond the murky hill. The kitchen smokes: the bed In the darkling house is spread: The great sky darkens overhead,
Come up here, O dusty feet! Here is fairy ready to eat. Here in my retiring room, Children, you may dine On the golden smell of broom
To you, let snow and roses And golden locks belong. These are the world’s enslavers, Let these delight the throng. For her of duskier lustre
The moon has a face like the clock… She shines on thieves on the garde… On streets and fields and harbour… And birdies asleep in the forks of… The squalling cat and the squeakin…
I have a hoard of treasure in my b… The grange of memory steams agains… Full of my bygone lifetime’s garne… Old pleasures crowned with sorrow… Old sorrow grown a joy, old penanc…
Little Indian, Sioux, or Crow, Little frosty Eskimo, Little Turk or Japanee, Oh! don’t you wish that you were m… You have seen the scarlet trees
GOD gave to me a child in part, Yet wholly gave the father’s heart… Child of my soul, O whither now, Unborn, unmothered, goest thou? You came, you went, and no man wis…
About my fields, in the broad sun And blaze of noon, there goeth one… Barefoot and robed in blue, to sca… With the hard eye of the husbandma… My harvests and my cattle. Her,
The gardener does not love to talk… He makes me keep the gravel walk; And when he puts his tools away, He locks the door and takes the ke… Away behind the currant row
DEAR sir, good—morrow! Five year… When you first girded for this ard… And under various whimsical pretex… Endowed another with your damned d… Could you have dreamed in your des…
