#ScottishWriters
T last she comes, O never more In this dear patience of my pain To leave me lonely as before, Or leave my soul alone again.
Bring the comb and play upon it! Marching, here we come! Willie cocks his highland bonnet, Johnnie beats the drum. Mary Jane commands the party,
WOULDST thou be free? I think… But if thou wouldst, attend this s… When quite contented }thou canst d… Thou shall be free when } And drink a small wine of the marc…
SINCE years ago for evermore My cedar ship I drew to shore; And to the road and riverbed And the green, nodding reeds, I s… Mine ignorant and last farewell:
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…
Once only by the garden gate Our lips we joined and parted. I must fulfil an empty fate And travel the uncharted. Hail and farewell! I must arise,
I saw you toss the kites on high And blow the birds about the sky; And all around I heard you pass, Like ladies’ skirts across the gra… O wind, a—blowing all day long,
HOME from the daisied meadows, w… Home, golden—headed playmate, ere… For the dews are falling fast And the night has come at last. Home with you, home and lay your l…
Birds all the summer day Flutter and quarrel Here in the arbour—like Tent of the laurel. Here in the fork
The rain is falling all around, It falls on field and tree, It rains on the umbrellas here, And on the ships at sea.
The moon has a face like the clock… She shines on thieves on the garde… On streets and fields and harbour… And birdies asleep in the forks of… The squalling cat and the squeakin…
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,
Last, to the chamber where I lie My fearful footsteps patter nigh, And come out from the cold and glo… Into my warm and cheerful room. There, safe arrived, we turn about
Long must elapse ere you behold ag… Green forest frame the entry of th… The wild lane with the bramble and… The year-old cart-tracks perfect i… The wayside smoke, perchance, the…
IN the green and gallant Spring, Love and the lyre I thought to si… And kisses sweet to give and take By the flowery hawthorn brake. Now is russet Autumn here,