#Scots #XIXCentury
Friend, in my mountain-side demesn… My plain-beholding, rosy, green And linnet-haunted garden-ground, Let still the esculents abound. Let first the onion flourish there…
In the other gardens And all up the vale, From the autumn bonfires See the smoke trail! Pleasant summer over
I should like to rise and go Where the golden apples grow;— Where below another sky Parrot islands anchored lie, And, watched by cockatoos and goat…
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…
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…
The Silver Ship, my King - that… In the bright islands whence your… The Silver Ship, at rest from win… Below your palace in your harbour… And the seafarers, sitting safe on…
It is the season now to go About the country high and low, Among the lilacs hand in hand, And two by two in fairy land. The brooding boy, the sighing maid…
COME, my little children, here a… Some are short and some are long,… You must learn to sing them very s… Very true to time and tune and ple… Mark the note that rises, mark the…
WHAT man may learn, what man may… Of right or wrong of false or true… While, skipper—like, his course he… Through nine and twenty mingled ye… Half misconceived and half forgot,
AS in their flight the birds of s… Halt here and there in sweet and s… But halt not overlong; The time one rural song to sing They pause; then following bounteo…
SINCE years ago for evermore My cedar ship I drew to shore; And to the road and riverbed And the green, nodding reeds, I s… Mine ignorant and last farewell:
Dear Andrew, with the brindled ha… Who glory to have thrown in air, High over arm, the trembling reed, By Ale and Kail, by Till and Twe… An equal craft of hand you show
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
HAIL! Childish slaves of social… You had yourselves a hand in makin… How I could shake your faith, ye… If but I thought it worth the sha… I see, and pity you; and then
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…
