Sydney Thompson Dobell Poems

Daft Jean,
The waesome wean,
She cam' by the cottage, she cam' by the ha',
The laird's ha' o' Wutherstanelaw,
...

Child, your effectual hands create too much.
The things they fashion having, thenceforth, less
...

Down by the Sutlej shore,
Where sound the trumpet and the wild tum-tum,
At winter's eve did come
A gaunt old northern lion, at whose roar
...

Tall and young and light of tongue,
Gallantly riding by wood and lea,
He was ware of a maiden fair
And turned and whispered, 'Remember me.'
...

'The Spring again hath started on the course
Wherein she seeketh Summer thro' the Earth.
...

Rain, rain, sweet warm rain,
On the wood and on the plain!
Rain, rain, warm and sweet,
Summer wood lush leafy and loud,
...

Oh worst of years, by what signs shall we know
So dire an advent? Let thy New-Year's-day
Be night. At the east gate let the sun lay
...

While the thistle bears
Spears,
And the shamrock is green,
And the English rose
...

Beauty is One. But that so equal gold,
Run in the apt and kindly difference
Of each receptive and significant sense,
...

Can I see thee stand
On the looming land?
Dost thou wave with thy white hand
Farewell, farewell?
...