From The Pentlands Looking North And South (John Buchan Poems)
Around my feet the clouds are drawnIn the cold mystery of the dawn;No breezes cheer, no guests intrudeMy mossy, mist-clad ...
Around my feet the clouds are drawnIn the cold mystery of the dawn;No breezes cheer, no guests intrudeMy mossy, mist-clad ...
The door is open to the wall,The air is bright and free;Adown the stair, across the hall,And then-the world and ...
When I was young and herdit sheepI read auld tales o' Wallace wight;My held was fou o' sangs and threipO' ...
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