#Scots #XIXCentury
Late in the nicht in bed I lay, The winds were at their weary play… An’ tirlin’ wa’s an’ skirlin’ wae Through Heev’n they battered; - On-ding o’ hail, on-blaff o’ spray…
THOUGH deep indifference should… The sluggish life beneath my brows… And all the external things I see Grow snow—showers in the street to… Yet inmost in my stormy sense
The stormy evening closes now in v… Loud wails the wind and beats the… While here in sheltered house With fire-ypainted walls, I hear the wind abroad,
NOW in the sky And on the hearth of Now in a drawer the direful cane, That sceptre of the . . . reign, And the long hawser, that on the b…
We travelled in the print of olden… Yet all the land was green, And love we found, and peace, Where fire and war had been. They pass and smile, the children…
It is not yours, O mother, to com… Not, mother, yours to weep, Though nevermore your son again Shall to your bosom creep, Though nevermore again you watch y…
THERE’S just a twinkle in your… That seems to say I MIGHT, if… Were only bold enough to try An arm about your waist. I hear, too, as you come and go,
AS swallows turning backward When half—way o’er the sea, At one word’s trumpet summons They came again to me — The hopes I had forgotten
FEAR not, dear friend, but freel… Though lesser lives should suffer.… A lesser life, that what is his of… Gladly would give for you, and wha… Step, without trouble, down the su…
A birdie with a yellow bill Hopped upon my window sill, Cocked his shining eye and said: “Ain’t you 'shamed, you sleepy—hea…
GO, little book– the ancient phra… And still the daintiest– go your w… My Otto, over sea and land, Till you shall come to Nelly’s ha… How shall I your Nelly know?
IN the green and gallant Spring, Love and the lyre I thought to si… And kisses sweet to give and take By the flowery hawthorn brake. Now is russet Autumn here,
My house, I say. But hark to the… That make my roof the arena of the… That gyre about the gable all day… And fill the chimneys with their m… Our house, they say; and mine, the…
A naked house, a naked moor, A shivering pool before the door, A garden bare of flowers and fruit And poplars at the garden foot; Such is the place that I live in,
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…