#Scots
You have no enemies, you say? Alas! my friend, the boast is poor… He who has mingled in the fray Of duty, that the brave endure, Must have made foes! If you have…
The merry Spring, the bright, bri… What joys she shakes from her flow… When the young bird sings from its… How happy it sleeps on its loved o… How sweet to roam at beauty’s side…
Hope on her wings, and God her gu… The dove of Noah soared, Far through the dim unfathomed spa… Where shoreless ocean roared. But ah! she found no valley green,
Sweet deceiver! who so oft Hast lulled my soul with visions s… When the heart is new and young, Thou dost come with honeyed tongue… Whispering to confiding youth
Wind of the winter night, whence c… And whither, oh whither, art wande… Sad, sad is thy voice on this deso… And mournful, oh mournful, thy how… Say where hast thou been on thy cl…
In cold misfortune’s cheerless day… When joy and peace and love depart… When friends deceive, and hopes de… And sorrows press the heavy heart, O! Lord, Thou canst relief impart…
‘Where is the place of their first… ’Where, oh where, is that green ba… ‘Under whose cover ’The maid and her lover ‘Plighted their troth and their co…
The earth is white with the fallin… And white is the forest tree, And my mocassin leaves no tell-tal… As I come to visit thee. O! swift is my foot on the war-pat…
Alder tree, O alder tree, Over his grave reclining; I’ve braided a wreath of the faire… That ever were fed by the spring-t… Or nursed by the summer shining.
Come, soul-inspiring Mirth, I’ll twine a wreath for thee, With flowers of spring-time birth, Born amid Nature’s glee: Born when the cuckoo sung
Peerless orb of life and light, Here beneath the cloudless blue, Lo! we quaff the liquor bright, And pray for rain and pleasant dew… Here beneath thy ruddy beam,
Earth heard the loud, the solemn s… And started from her utmost bound, And Darkness, on his ebon car, Spread his black wings, and fled a… The dun clouds opened with affrigh…
We come! We come! To soften the strokes of fate. And lead the wanderer back in drea… To his woodland cot, and his nativ… And his long-expecting mate.
A little stream had lost its way Amid the grass and fern; A passing stranger scooped a well, Where weary men might turn; He walled it in and hung with care
‘Where shall I hide myself?- Lost and undone!- A beggar—an outcast— Insulting the Sun! Oh! Yesterday vanished!
