Category Archives: Poem

Jim Stewart, ‘Balgay Hill

There once was rhododendron, among graves shadowed by cypress; and in that rubbish of breakable twig and bough with the green-black dust, cradles, where blackbird hearts jumped in their huddled eggs, speckles gathered at the fat ends, no batch the same. Always there was an abandoned clutch. The yolk could be blown through careful punctures,

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Robert Burns, ‘A Red, Red Rose’

O my Luve’s like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve’s like the melodie That’s sweetly play’d in tune. As fair art thou, my bonnie lass, So deep in luve am I: And I will luve thee still, my dear, Till a’ the seas gang dry: Till a’ the seas

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‘To Any Reader’

By Robert Louis Stevenson 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, And in another garden, play. But do not think you can at all, By knocking on the window, call

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Ae fond kiss by Robert Burns

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, alas, for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee. Who shall say that Fortune grieves him, While the star of hope she leaves him? Me, nae cheerful twinkle lights me; Dark despair around benights me. I’ll ne’er blame

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A Winter Night by Robert Burns

When biting Boreas, fell and doure, Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless bow’r; When Phoebus gies a short-liv’d glow’r, Far south the lift, Dim-dark’ning thro’ the flaky show’r, Or whirling drift:   Ae night the storm the steeples rocked, Poor Labour sweet in sleep was locked, While burns, wi’ snawy wreeths upchoked, Wild-eddying swirl, Or thro’

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