#Scots #XIXCentury
I saw you toss the kites on high And blow the birds about the sky; And all around I heard you pass, Like ladies’ skirts across the gra… O wind, a—blowing all day long,
The relic taken, what avails the s… The locket, pictureless? O heart… Art thou not worse than that, Still warm, a vacant nest where lo… Her image nestled closer at my hea…
NOW when the number of my years Is all fulfilled, and I From sedentary life Shall rouse me up to die, Bury me low and let me lie
EARLY in the morning I hear on… You (at least, I guess it’s you)… Mostly little minds should take an… While the birds are singing in the…
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…
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.
Behold, as goblins dark of mien And portly tyrants dyed with crime Change, in the transformation scen… At Christmas, in the pantomime, Instanter, at the prompter’s cough…
I SEND to you, commissioners, A paper that may please ye, sirs (For troth they say it might be wo… An’ I believe’t) And on your business lay my curse
Frae nirly, nippin’, Eas’lan’ bre… Frae Norlan’ snaw, an’ haar o’ se… Weel happit in your gairden trees, A bonny bit, Atween the muckle Pentland’s knee…
YOU looked so tempting in the pew… You looked so sly and calm — My trembling fingers played with y… As both looked out the Psalm. Your heart beat hard against my ar…
MY Martial owns a garden, famed t… Beyond the glades of the Hesperid… Along Janiculum lies the chosen b… Where the cool grottos trench the… The moderate summit, something pla…
LOVE —what is love? A great and… Wrung hands; and silence; and a lo… Life —what is life? Upon a moorla… To see love coming and see love de…
O CHIEF director of the growing… Of Rome the glory and of Rome the… Me, O Quintilian, may you not for… Before from labour I make haste t… Some burn to gather wealth, lay ha…
When I was down beside the sea A wooden spade they gave to me To dig the sandy shore. My holes were empty like a cup. In every hole the sea came up
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…
