#ScottishWriters
I have a hoard of treasure in my b… The grange of memory steams agains… Full of my bygone lifetime’s garne… Old pleasures crowned with sorrow… Old sorrow grown a joy, old penanc…
Youth now flees on feathered foot Faint and fainter sounds the flute… Rarer songs of gods; and still Somewhere on the sunny hill, Or along the winding stream,
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…
ON now, although the year be done… Now, although the love be dead, Dead and gone; Hear me, O loved and cherished on… Give me still the hand that led,
GOD gave to me a child in part, Yet wholly gave the father’s heart… Child of my soul, O whither now, Unborn, unmothered, goest thou? You came, you went, and no man wis…
Sing clearlier, Muse, or evermore… Sing truer or no longer sing! No more the voice of melancholy J… To wake a weeping echo in the hill… But as the boy, the pirate of the…
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,
All the names I know from nurse: Gardener’s garters, Shepherd’s pu… Bachelor’s buttons, Lady’s smock, And the Lady Hollyhock. Fairy places, fairy things,
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…
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,
THE wind blew shrill and smart, And the wind awoke my heart Again to go a—sailing o’er the sea… To hear the cordage moan And the straining timbers groan,
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
Grown about by fragrant bushes, Sunken in a winding valley, Where the clear winds blow And the shadows come and go, And the cattle stand and low
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
Youth now flees on feathered foot. Faint and fainter sounds the flute… Rarer songs of gods; and still Somewhere on the sunny hill, Or along the winding stream,
