Alexander Anderson Poems

He sleeps; the inner agony hath pass'd
With the sure dawn that slowly climbs the east;
The night wherein man saw Him not hath ceas'd,
And sleep is on that glorious face at last.
...

As soft as an autumn leaf will light
When the winds are hush'd and still,
Fell your hand into mine that summer night,
When the moon rose above the hill.
...

Hurrah! for the mighty engine,
As he bounds along his track:
Hurrah, for the life that is in him,
And his breath so thick and black.
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The sunlight fell through the shadowy trees
In smiles all soft and sweet,
While the incense breath of an early-breeze
Stirr'd the primrose at our feet.
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Row, Kello, row frae rocky linns,
An' through amang thy grassy braes,
Where gowans grow an' hawthorns blaw,
An' sunshine sleeps on summer days.
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Or Guido, where beneath the crown of thorns
Love haloes the divinest of all eyes,
And struggles with despair with unheard sighs,
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Like a great tree beside the stream of life
The visioned poet stands,
And scatters forth his leaves of thought all rife,
As if from fairy hands.
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Half worship? Nay, full worship must be thine,
For all the best of Raphael's soul is there,
Glowing as in that hour when the divine
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And thou, in such calm moments, wilt again
Stand in that holy silent light which swims
With unsung liturgies and incensed hymns
That ever teach us life is light and vain!
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Did ye see the Bowgie man
Stan'in' at the door?
Ae big pock flung owre his back,
Anither doon afore.
...