#ScottishWriters
TO friends at home, the lone, the… The gracious old, the lovely young… The fair, December the beloved, These from my blue horizon and gre… These from this pinnacle of distan…
I DO not fear to own me kin To the glad clods in which spring… Or to my brothers, the great trees… That speak with pleasant voices in… Loud talkers with the winds that p…
TO what shall I compare her, That is as fair as she? For she is fairer —fairer Than the sea. What shall be likened to her,
THE summer sun shone round me, The folded valley lay In a stream of sun and odour, That sultry summer day. The tall trees stood in the sunlig…
Up into the cherry tree Who should climb but little me? I held the trunk with both my hand… And looked abroad in foreign lands… I saw the next door garden lie,
COME, here is adieu to the city And hurrah for the country again. The broad road lies before me Watered with last night’s rain. The timbered country woos me
At evening when the lamp is lit, Around the fire my parents sit; They sit at home and talk and sing… And do not play at anything. Now, with my little gun, I crawl
STOUT marches lead to certain en… We seek no Holy Grail, my friends… That dawn should find us every day Some fraction farther on our way. The dumb lands sleep from east to…
When aince Aprile has fairly come… An’ birds may bigg in winter’s lum… An’ pleisure’s spreid for a’ and s… O’ whatna state, Love, wi’ her auld recruitin’ drum…
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?
LOOK round: You see a little sup… But from my window, lo! great Cae… And the great dead themselves, wit… Bid you be merry and remember deat…
It’s strange that God should fash… The yearth and lift sae hie, An’ clean forget to explain the sa… To a gentleman like me. They gutsy, donnered ither folk,
YOU fear, Ligurra– above all, yo… That I should smite you with a st… This dreadful honour you both fear… Both all in vain: you fall below m… The Lybian lion tears the roaring…
A birdie with a yellow bill Hopped upon my window sill, Cocked his shining eye and said: “Ain’t you 'shamed, you sleepy—hea…
From the bonny bells of heather They brewed a drink long—syne, Was sweeter far than honey, Was stronger far than wine. They brewed it and they drank it,