Thou whom chance may hither lead, Be thou clad in russet weed, Be thou deck'd in silken stole, Grave these maxims on thy soul. Life is but a day at most, Sprung from night, in darkness lost;...
A plague on your languages, German and Norse! Let me have the song of the kettle; And the tongs and the poker, instead of that horse That gallops away with such fury and force...
Gay visions for thee 'neath hope's pencil have glowed, Peace dwells in thy bosom, a guileless abode; Thou hast seen the bright side of existence alone, And believ'st every spirit as pure as thine own....
O Friend! I know not which way I must look For comfort, being, as I am, opprest, To think that now our life is only drest For show; mean handy-work of craftsman, cook,...
The cock is crowing, The stream is flowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter The green field sleeps in the sun; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest;...
The Cock is crowing, The stream is flowing, The small birds twitter, The lake doth glitter, The green field sleeps in the sun; The oldest and youngest Are at work with the strongest;...
We are what we are made; each following day Is the Creator of our human mould Not less than was the first; the all-wise God Gilds a few points in every several life,...
Autumn, I love thy parting look to view In cold November's day, so bleak and bare, When, thy life's dwindled thread worn nearly thro', With ling'ring, pott'ring pace, and head bleach'd bare,...
Dear P----, while Painters, Poets, Sages, Inscribe this volume's votive pages With partial friendship: why invite The tribute of a luckless wight Unknown--by wisdom or by wit...
Joy to thee, Lady! many years of joy To thee--and thine--that springtide of the heart, The bliss of virtuous love, without alloy. And all that health and gladsome life impart....
Lady unknown! a pilgrim from the shrine Of Poesy's fair temple, brings a wreath Which fame and gratitude alike entwine, Around a name that charms the monster Death,...
Whate'er thy countrymen have done By law and wit, by sword and gun, In thee is faithfully recited, And all the living world that view Thy work, give thee the praises due...
Here is one leaf reserved for me, From all thy sweet memorials free; And here my simple song might tell The feelings thou must guess so well. But could I thus, within thy mind,...
This mortal body of a thousand days Now fills, O Burns, a space in thine own room, Where thou didst dream alone on budded bays, Happy and thoughtless of thy day of doom!...
Blue was the loch, [1] the clouds were gone, Ben-Lomond in his glory shone, When, Luss, I left thee; when the breeze Bore me from thy silver sands, Thy kirk-yard wall among the trees,...
Calm is all nature as a resting wheel. The kine are couched upon the dewy grass; The horse alone, seen dimly as I pass, Is cropping audibly his later meal: Dark is the ground; a slumber seems to steal...
When soft September brings again To yonder gorse its golden glow, And Snowdon sends its autumn rain To bid thy current livelier flow; Amid that ashen foliage light...