#Couplet #Epigram #MoneyAndEconomics #ScottishWriters #SocialCommentaries
Out of the sun, out of the blast, Out of the world, alone I passed Across the moor and through the wo… To where the monastery stood. There neither lute nor breathing f…
Child — O mother, lay your hand on my brow… O mother, mother, where am I now? Why is the room so gaunt and great… Why am I lying awake so late?
NOR judge me light, tho’ light at… And lightly in the stress of fortu… The innumerable flaws of changeful… Nor judge me light for this, nor r… (Office forbid to mortals, kept su…
In the highlands, in the country p… Where the old plain men have rosy… And the young fair maidens Quiet eyes; Where essential silence cheers and…
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
Then the bright lamp is carried in… The sunless hours again begin; O’er all without, in field and lan… The haunted night returns again. Now we behold the embers flee
Soon our friends perish, Soon all we cherish Fades as days darken —goes as flow… Soon in December Over an ember,
I WHO all the winter through Cherished other loves than you, And kept hands with hoary policy i… Now I know the false and true, For the earnest sun looks through,
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,
It’s an owercome sooth for age an’… And it brooks wi’ nae denial, That the dearest friends are the a… And the young are just on trial. There’s a rival bauld wi’ young an…
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,
Of a’ the ills that flesh can fear… The loss o’ frien’s, the lack o’ g… A yowlin’ tyke, a glandered mear, A lassie’s nonsense - There’s just ae thing I cannae be…
It’s rainin’. Weet’s the gairden… Weet the lang roads whaur gangrels… A maist unceevil thing o’ God In mid July — If ye’ll just curse the sneckdraw,…
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,
A birdie with a yellow bill Hopped upon my window sill, Cocked his shining eye and said: “Ain’t you 'shamed, you sleepy—hea…