#Couplet #Epigram #MoneyAndEconomics #ScottishWriters #SocialCommentaries
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…
THE old Chimaeras, old receipts For making “happy land,” The old political beliefs Swam close before my hand. The grand old communistic myths
Children, you are very little, And your bones are very brittle; If you would grow great and statel… You must try to walk sedately. You must still be bright and quiet…
Down by a shining water well I found a very little dell, No higher than my head. The heather and the gorse about In summer bloom were coming out,
I heard the pulse of the besieging… Throb far away all night. I hear… Fly crying and convulse tumultuous… I rose and strolled. The isle wa… And flailing fans and shadows of t…
FOR some abiding central source o… Strong—smitten steady chords, ye s… And, flowing, carry virtue. Far b… The vain tumultuous passions of th… Fleet fast and disappear; and as t…
You too, my mother, read my rhymes For love of unforgotten times, And you may chance to hear once mo… The little feet along the floor.
For the long nights you lay awake And watched for my unworthy sake: For your most comfortable hand That led me through the uneven lan… For all the story—books you read:
In dreams, unhappy, I behold you… As heretofore: The unremembered tokens in your ha… Avail no more. No more the morning glow, no more…
On the great streams the ships may… About men’s business to and fro. But I, the egg-shell pinnace, sle… On crystal waters ankle-deep: I, whose diminutive design,
OUR Johnie’s deid. The mair’s th… He’s deid, an’ deid o’ Aqua—vitae… O Embro’, you’re a shrunken city, Noo Johnie’s deid! Tak hands, an’ sing a burial ditty
LIGHT as the linnet on my way I… For all my pack I bear a chartere… Forth on the world without a guide… Content to know, through all man’s… The eternal woman by the wayside w…
A picture-frame for you to fill, A paltry setting for your face, A thing that has no worth until You lend it something of your grac… I send (unhappy I that sing
My body which my dungeon is, And yet my parks and palaces: — Which is so great that there I go All the day long to and fro, And when the night begins to fall
A child should always say what’s t… And speak when he is spoken to, And behave mannerly at table; At least as far as he is able.