#ScottishWriters
Deep in the shade of the wild wood… There standeth alone an old oak tr… And ever at night, 'mong its branc… The cold wind mourneth its glories… And the nightingale singeth her sa…
Why, Solitude, why hath the minst… The festive repast of the fair and… Why leaves he the city, The wise and the witty, To roam thro’ the woods in communi…
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…
Far from bustle, strife, and care, ‘Mong the woods I’ve wooed her. And to her secluded nook, By the margin of a brook, And by waters bright and blue,
I’m poor and quite unknown, I have neither fame nor rank; My labour is all I own, I have no gold at the bank; I’m one of the common crowd,
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,
When tke sentinel mastiff keepeth… And all is dark in the farmer’s ya… Ere the early cock hath begun to c… Abroad with the owl and the bat we… Thirst is mighty-hunger is strong
Soldier of Poland! wherefore sigh… Freedom, though crushed, shall nev… Though for awhile her noble head Be trampled by the Cossack’s trea… Though the proud Russian lay her…
I saw a stain on the last year’s s… Brothers! a stain of blood! But the cold hath past, and the wa… And the trees are in the bud. The snow hath melted from dale and…
Why, O wind of summer. Why that restless moan? Weepest thou for pleasures That are past and gone? Mournest thou for visions
Far away! O far away, Over the wide sea’s bounding spray… Many a league o’er the pelting foa… We seek a country, we seek a home! Farewell, England! our native lan…
Far away from the white man’s smok… In the woods and in silence deep, Under the shade of the beech and o… The bones of the heroes sleep. And there we go when the sky is gr…
COOL breeze of summer’s eve, ‘Mid leafy branches playing, Oh hasten to her bower, And chide my love for staying: Tell her, with anxious hope
Hast thou forgotten her to whom You vowed such vows of truth, She who was dearest to thy heart In days of hope and youth? Dost thou forget the parting praye…
In valleys where the white man’s f… Ne’er treads the early dew, By mighty streams, whose waters de… Ne’er bear his light canoe; In wild woods, where the settler’s…