#ScottishWriters
Apologetic Postscript Of A Year… IF you see this song, my dear, And last year’s toast, I’m confoundedly in fear You’ll be serious and severe
UP with the sun, the breeze arose… Across the talking corn she goes, And smooth she rustles far and wid… Through all the voiceful countrysi… Through all the land her tale she…
When I am grown to man’s estate I shall be very proud and great, And tell the other girls and boys Not to meddle with my toys.
We travelled in the print of olden… Yet all the land was green, And love we found, and peace, Where fire and war had been. They pass and smile, the children…
Not yet, my soul, these friendly f… Where thou with grass, and rivers,… And the bright face of day, thy da… Where to thine ear first sang the… Where love and thou that lasting b…
THE old Chimaeras, old receipts For making “happy land,” The old political beliefs Swam close before my hand. The grand old communistic myths
LET love go, if go she will. Seek not, O fool, her wanton flig… Of all she gives and takes away The best remains behind her still. The best remains behind; in vain
Resign the rhapsody, the dream, To men of larger reach; Be ours the quest of a plain theme… The piety of speech. As monkish scribes from morning br…
WHEN Thomas set this tablet here… Time laughed at the vain chanticle… And ere the moss had dimmed the st… Time had defaced that garrison. Now I in turn keep watch and ward
The human conscience has fled of l… domain of conduct for what I shoul… less congenial field of art: there… rage, and with special severity in… so that in every novel the letters…
Great is the sun, and wide he goes Through empty heaven with repose; And in the blue and glowing days More thick than rain he showers hi… Though closer still the blinds we…
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…
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,
COME, my beloved, hear from me Tales of the woods or open sea. Let our aspiring fancy rise A wren’s flight higher toward the… Or far from cities, brown and bare…
LOVE —what is love? A great and… Wrung hands; and silence; and a lo… Life —what is life? Upon a moorla… To see love coming and see love de…