#ScottishWriters
I HAVE left all upon the shamefu… Honour and Hope, my God, and all… Spurless, with sword reversed and… Degraded and disgraced, I leave t… From him that hath not, shall ther…
THE angler rose, he took his rod, He kneeled and made his prayers to… The living God sat overhead: The angler tripped, the eels were…
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,
YES, friend, I own these tales o… Smile not, as smiled their flawles… Age—old but yet untamed, for ages Pass and the magic is undiminished… Thus, friend, the tales of the old…
Whenever Auntie moves around, Her dresses make a curious sound, They trail behind her up the floor… And trundle after through the door…
MY Martial owns a garden, famed t… Beyond the glades of the Hesperid… Along Janiculum lies the chosen b… Where the cool grottos trench the… The moderate summit, something pla…
“Chief of our aunts”—not only I, But all your dozen of nurselings c… “What did the other children do? And what were childhood, wanting y…
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…
Smooth it glides upon its travel, Here a wimple, there a gleam— O the clean gravel! O the smooth stream! Sailing blossoms, silver fishes,
HERE in the quiet eve My thankful eyes receive The quiet light. I see the trees stand fair Against the faded air,
THE wind is without there and how… And the rain—flurries drum on the… Alone by the fireside with elbows… I can number the hours as they pas… Yet now, when to cheer me the cric…
Then the bright lamp is carried in… The sunless hours again begin; O’er all without, in field and lan… The haunted night returns again. Now we behold the embers flee
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;
Of all my verse, like not a single… But like my title, for it is not m… That title from a better man I st… Ah, how much better, had I stol’n…
I, WHOM Apollo sometime visited… Or feigned to visit, now, my day b… Do slumber wholly; nor shall know… The weariness of changes; nor perc… Immeasurable sands of centuries