Alexander Anderson Poems

Last year I sat within my room,
And heard the cricket in the gloom
Chirp out his palpitating lay,
As if he were on holiday.
...

The merry children are playing
In the little village street;
The old men sit by the doorway:
Their evening rest is sweet.
...

The mist lies on Glen Aymer hill,
Listless as if asleep,
Below the silence quivers still
With bleatings of the sheep.
...

The simmer day was sweet an' lang,
It had nae thocht o' sorrow,
As my true love and I stood on
The bonnie banks o' Yarrow.
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Wull I ha'e to speak again
To thae weans o' mine?
Eicht o'clock, an' weel I ken
The schule gangs in at nine.
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I am auld an' frail, an' I scarce can gang,
Though whiles when I tak' a turn,
It's only when the sun blinks oot
On the braes by the Vennel Burn.
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He will not sing his loudest song,
This poet full of love and mirth,
Until the shadows which belong
To night are deep upon the hearth.
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Whisper, dear, that love is sweet,
Sweeter far than anything;
Brighter than the flowers that grow
...

Here's wee Tam aside the fire,
Soun' as soun' can be,
Tangs across his wee fat legs,
...

The humble bee is hiding
In the blossom's golden cells;
He, and he only, can tell me
Where the queen of the fairies dwells.
...