#ScottishWriters
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…
Not undelightful, friend, our rust… To grateful hearts; for by especia… Deep nested in the hill’s enormous… With its own ring of walls and gro… Sits, in deep shelter, our small c…
The embers of the day are red Beyond the murky hill. The kitchen smokes: the bed In the darkling house is spread: The great sky darkens overhead,
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…
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?
As the single pang of the blow, wh… Rings and lives and resounds in al… So the thunder above spoke with a… So in the heart of the mountain th… Sudden the thunder was drowned —qu…
The strong man’s hand, the snow—co… The certain—footed sympathies of y… These, and that lofty passion afte… Hunger unsatisfied in priest or sa… Or the great men of former years,…
NOW Antoninus, in a smiling age, Counts of his life the fifteenth f… The rounded days and the safe year… Nor fears death’s water mounting r… To him remembering not one day is…
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…
I sit and wait a pair of oars On cis-Elysian river-shores. Where the immortal dead have sate, 'T is mine to sit and meditate; To re-ascend life’s rivulet,
I will make you brooches and toys… Of bird-song at morning and star-s… I will make a palace fit for you a… Of green days in forests and blue… I will make my kitchen, and you sh…
AWAY with funeral music– set The pipe to powerful lips— The cup of life’s for him that dri… And not for him that sips.
There are men and classes of men t… common herd: the soldier, the sail… unfrequently; the artist rarely; r… the physician almost as a rule. H… is) of our civilisation; and when…
Farewell, fair day and fading ligh… The clay-born here, with westward… Marks the huge sun now downward so… Farewell. We twain shall meet no… Farewell. I watch with bursting…
Say not of me, that weakly I decl… The labours of my siers, and fled… The towers we founded and the lamp… To play at home with paper like a… But rather say: In the afternoon…