Alexander Anderson Poems

Oh, Jenny, she is fair an' braw,
An' Daisy fu' o' lovin' wiles;
Then Mary has a broo o' snaw,
An' lips an' cheeks just made for smiles.
I lo'e the three wi' a' my will,
...

The night is calm, and sweet, and still—
Such nights should ever be—
When the young and good of this earth of ours
Droop in our hands like wither'd flow'rs,
To bloom in eternity.
...

I stand with my shoulder to shoulders,
In the long, sad battle of life;
I keep in the ranks of my fellows,
I add my voice to the strife.
...

We left the dear old house behind,
And where the moon was glancing,
We stood amid the low soft wind,
To hear the feet still dancing.
...

The hills aroon' oor ain wee toon
Are no' like ither hills to me,
They're sweet to see in simmer licht,
An' sweet when winter sweeps the lea.
...

You smile, and half in jest you ask
A song from me. A simple task,
If he who sings had all the youth
And freshness of thy maiden truth,
To give to words the glow and light,
Without which who can sing aright?
...

Once more on the mighty engine, boys,
With my hand on the driver's arm,
And again at his touch through each fire-leading vein
Throbs a flood of the life-giving charm.
...

The silent dead go marching down,
With not a single banner flown;
But if you only bend your ear
Their funeral marches you can hear.
...

He sleeps among the hills he knew,
They look upon his early rest,
The winds that in his childhood blew—
They stir the grass upon his breast.
...

Lucy is but a child as yet,
And full of mirth and glee,
But still in Lucy's eye is set
A light that I love to see.
...