#ScottishWriters
LO! in thine honest eyes I read The auspicious beacon that shall l… After long sailing in deep seas, To quiet havens in June ease. Thy voice sings like an inland bir…
O it’s I that am the captain of a… Of a ship that goes a sailing on t… And my ship it keeps a—turning all… But when I’m a little older, I sh… How to send my vessel sailing on b…
Do you remember —can we e’er forge… How, in the coiled-perplexities of… In our wild climate, in our scowli… We gloomed and shivered, sorrowed,… The belching winter wind, the miss…
NOT thine where marble—still and… Old statues share the tempered lig… And mock the uneven modern flight, But in the stream Of daily sorrow and delight
KNOW you the river near to Grez, A river deep and clear? Among the lilies all the way, That ancient river runs to—day From snowy weir to weir.
I know not how it is with you — I love the first and last, The whole field of the present vie… The whole flow of the past. One tittle of the things that are,
At evening when the lamp is lit, Around the fire my parents sit; They sit at home and talk and sing… And do not play at anything. Now, with my little gun, I crawl
MEN are Heaven’s piers; they eve… Unwearying bear the skyey floor; Man’s theatre they bear with ease, Unfrowning cariatides! I, for my wife, the sun uphold,
As from the house your mother sees You playing round the garden trees… So you may see, if you will look Through the windows of this book, Another child, far, far away,
THE UNFATHOMABLE sea, and t… The deeds of heroes and the crimes… Dispart us; and the river of event… Has, for an age of years, to east… More widely borne our cradles. Th…
HERE in the quiet eve My thankful eyes receive The quiet light. I see the trees stand fair Against the faded air,
To you, let snow and roses And golden locks belong. These are the world’s enslavers, Let these delight the throng. For her of duskier lustre
GO(D) knows, my Martial, if we t… To enjoy our days set wholly free; To the true life together bend our… And take a furlough from the false… No rich saloon, nor palace of the…
A picture-frame for you to fill, A paltry setting for your face, A thing that has no worth until You lend it something of your grac… I send (unhappy I that sing
In winter I get up at night And dress by yellow candle—light. In summer quite the other way, I have to go to bed by day. I have to go to bed and see