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THE GLOOMY night is gath’ring fast, Loud roars the wild, inconstant blast, Yon murky cloud is foul with rain, I see it driving o’er the plain; The hunter now has left the moor.
MY heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie, Some counsel unto me come len’, To anger them a’ is a pity, But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen?
NO Spartan tube, no Attic shell, No lyre Æolian I awake; ’Tis liberty’s bold note I swell, Thy harp, Columbia, let me take!
Thee, God, I come from, to thee go, All day long I like fountain flow From thy hand out, swayed about Mote-like in thy mighty...
The Trees like Tassels -- hit -- and swung -- There seemed to rise a Tune From Miniature Creatures Accompanying the Sun -- Far Psalteries...
Drink to me only with thine eyes, And I will pledge with mine; Or leave a kiss but in the cup, And I'll not look for wine.
XIX The soul's Rialto hath its merchandise; I barter curl for curl upon that mart, And from my poet's forehead to my heart Receive this lock which outweighs argosies,— As purply black, as erst to Pindar's eyes The dim purpureal...
The Soul has Bandaged moments -- When too appalled to stir -- She feels some ghastly Fright come up And stop to look at her...
O WHA my babie-clouts will buy? O wha will tent me when I cry? Wha will kiss me where I lie? The rantin’ dog, the daddie o’t. O wha will own he did the faut? O wha will buy the groanin maut?
FAREWELL to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love.
The golden gates of Sleep unbar Where Strength and Beauty, met together, Kindle their image like a star In a sea of glassy weather! Night, with all thy stars look down,-- Darkness, weep thy holiest dew,-- Never smiled the inconstant...
My period had come for Prayer -- No other Art -- would do -- My Tactics missed a rudiment -- Creator -- Was it you?...
O THOU dread Power, who reign’st above, I know thou wilt me hear, When for this scene of peace and love, I make this prayer sincere. The hoary Sire—the mortal stroke, Long, long be pleas’d to spare; To bless this...
IT was upon a Lammas night, When corn rigs are bonie, Beneath the moon’s unclouded light, I held awa to Annie; The time flew by, wi’ tentless heed, Till, ’tween the late and early, Wi’ sma’ persuasion she agreed To see me thro’ the barley.
Grant, if thou wilt, thou art belov'd of many, But that thou none lov'st is most evident: For thou art so possess'd with murderous hate, That 'gainst thy self thou stick'st not to conspire, Seeking that beauteous roof to ruinate...
No more be griev'd at that which thou hast done: Roses have thorns, and silver fountains mud: Clouds and eclipses stain both moon and sun, And loathsome canker lives in sweetest bud.
We sow the glebe, we reap the corn, We build the house where we may rest, And then, at moments, suddenly, We look up to the great wide sky, Inquiring wherefore we were born… For earnest or for jest?
Love, meet me in the green glen, Beside the tall elm tree, Where the sweet briar smells so sweet agen; There come with me, Meet me in the green glen.
Or whether doth my mind, being crown'd with you, Drink up the monarch's plague, this flattery?
When passion's trance is overpast, If tenderness and truth could last, Or live, whilst all wild feelings keep Some mortal slumber, dark and deep, I should not weep, I should not weep!
Life is real, life is earnest, And the shell is not its pen – “Egg thou art, and egg remainest” Was not spoken of the hen.
I'm sorry for the Dead -- Today -- It's such congenial times Old Neighbors have at fences -- It's time o' year for Hay. And...
Each Life Converges to some Centre -- Expressed -- or still -- Exists in every Human Nature A Goal -- Embodied scarcely to itself --...
In the valley of waters we wept on the day When the host of the Stranger made Salem his prey; And our heads on our bosoms all droopingly lay, And our hearts were so full of the land far away!