#ScottishWriters
IN the highlands, in the country… Where the old plain men have rosy… And the young fair maidens Quiet eyes; Where essential silence cheers and…
Sing me a song of a lad that is go… Say, could that lad be I? Merry of soul he sailed on a day Over the sea to Skye. Mull was astern, Rum on the port,
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.
THE angler rose, he took his rod, He kneeled and made his prayers to… The living God sat overhead: The angler tripped, the eels were…
There are men and classes of men t… common herd: the soldier, the sail… unfrequently; the artist rarely; r… the physician almost as a rule. H… is) of our civilisation; and when…
The world is so full of a number o… I’m sure we should all be as happy…
As in the hostel by the bridge I… Nailed with indifference fondly de… And (O strange chance, more sorro… The counterfeit of her that was my… Dressed in like vesture, graceful…
STILL I love to rhyme, and stil… Far from the commoner way; Old—time trills and falls by the b… Dreaming to—morrow to—day. Come here, come, revive me, Sun—G…
Every night my prayers I say, And get my dinner every day; And every day that I’ve been good… I get an orange after food. The child that is not clean and ne…
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…
Home no more home to me, whither m… Hunger my driver, I go where I mu… Cold blows the winter wind over hi… Thick drives the rain, and my roof… Loved of wise men was the shade of…
I KNOW not how, but as I count The beads of former years, Old laughter catches in my throat With the very feel of tears.
Do you remember —can we e’er forge… How, in the coiled-perplexities of… In our wild climate, in our scowli… We gloomed and shivered, sorrowed,… The belching winter wind, the miss…
SWALLOWS travel to and fro, And the great winds come and go, And the steady breezes blow, Bearing perfume, bearing love. Breezes hasten, swallows fly,
KNOW you the river near to Grez, A river deep and clear? Among the lilies all the way, That ancient river runs to—day From snowy weir to weir.