High thoughts!
They come and go,
Like the soft breathings of a listening maiden,
While round me flow
The winds, from woods and fields with gladness laden:
When the corn’s rustle on the ear doth come—
When the eve’s beetle sounds its...
Robert Nicoll
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A Trodden daisy, from the sward,
With tearful eye I took,
And on its ruined glories I,
With moving heart, did look;
For, crushed and broken though it was,
That little flower was fair;
And oh! I loved the dying bud,
For God was there... -
A Happy bit hame this auld world would be
If men, when they ’re here, could make shift to agree,
An’ ilk said to his neighbor, in cottage an’ ha’,
“Come, gi’e me your hand,—we are brethren a’.”I ken na why ane wi’ anither should fight,
When to ’gree...