#ScottishWriters
The gardener does not love to talk… He makes me keep the gravel walk; And when he puts his tools away, He locks the door and takes the ke… Away behind the currant row
Sonnet VIII As Daniel, bird—alone, in that fa… Kneeling in fervent prayer, with h… Turned thro’ the casement toward t… Or as untamed Elijah, that red br…
My tea is nearly ready and the sun… It’s time to take the window to se… For every night at teatime and bef… With lantern and with ladder he co… Now Tom would be a driver and Mar…
Three of us afloat in the meadow b… Three of us abroad in the basket o… Winds are in the air, they are blo… And waves are on the meadow like t… Where shall we adventure, to—day t…
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…
Bright is the ring of words When the right man rings them, Fair the fall of songs When the singer sings them. Still they are carolled and said —
A mile an’ a bittock, a mile or tw… Abune the burn, ayont the law, Davie an’ Donal’ an’ Cherlie an’… An’ the mune was shinin’ clearly! Ane went hame wi’ the ither, an’ t…
TO her, for I must still regard h… As feminine in her degree, Who has been my unkind bombarder Year after year, in grief and glee… Year after year, with oaken tree;
LIGHT as the linnet on my way I… For all my pack I bear a chartere… Forth on the world without a guide… Content to know, through all man’s… The eternal woman by the wayside w…
COME to me, all ye that labour;… Here apart in starry quiet I will… Come to me, ye heavy laden, sin de… In your father’s quiet mansions, s… But an hour you bear your trial, s…
THEY tell me, lady, that to—day On that unknown Australian strand… Some time ago, so far away— Another lady joined the band. She joined the company of those
God, if this were enough, That I see things bare to the buf… And up to the buttocks in mire; That I ask nor hope nor hire, Nut in the husk,
Out of the sun, out of the blast, Out of the world, alone I passed Across the moor and through the wo… To where the monastery stood. There neither lute nor breathing f…
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,
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…