#ScottishWriters
The round moon hangs like a yellow… That lie like lace against the sil… Oh, still the night! Oh, hushed t… Surely God is nigh.
Let me not think of blood to-night… So doing It will be harder still to fight: Peace’s wooing Sucks blood making me white
Ah! when it rains all day And the sky is a mist That creeps by chillily Where sun once kissed, Like death pale shroud,
JUNE! the joyous, sun-filled mon… When roses, emblems of a heaven, c… Strange melodies in garden and in… With blithesome birds that sing in… Of English lanes; and thousand ot…
It is not sweet to die for one’s c… I saw a dead man stinking in a tre… Where even flies would sicken with… Ah! is it sweet to die for one’s c… His face had rotted black as ebony…
Lo! there she comes from afar Her eyes tender as moonlight Or the evening star On a purple night In Autumn! See!
THE hour is drowsed with things o… That round my tottering senses cre… Like subtle wandering scents, so r… They might ensweeten fairies’ hair… And I am walking in a glade
I HEAR a rat scurrying At the end o’ the street Across the moon-lit stones, hurryi… To dingier retreat— A ruined house against the moon,
As one who was rebuked I stood In silence by the sea ; The stars were pale and faint—a br… Of angel eyes to me: The dim red flush of evening lay
I HAVE leaned on God And have been comforted by Him: My fears have been allayed ; My terror of Death has been forgo… My frightened heart
O spirit of my Fate keen-eyed, fi… Thou lead’st me not to pleasant pl… Rich in gold of setting suns, wher… Slim sylphs in silken draperies, w… With luring elfish eyes as they fl…
I PRAY to God at night, Tho’ I know not where He is Nor what He is; Nor whether I am right: I pray to God at night.
I hear the dull, low thunder of th… Beyond the hills that doze uneasil… A sullen doomful growl that ever r… From end to end of the heavy freig… A friend of mine writes, squatted…
OUT, out into the wind-swept clea… Whose purple canopy, the sky, is b… With the soft splendour of the ful… And a thousand stars that mystical… Strange melodies upborne on the co…
Think not of me as facing death, Tattered, labouring for breath ; Rather think of one who strays Dreaming dreams by perfumed ways. Soon I may die, ah! true, ’tis tr…