#ScottishWriters
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,
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…
Didst ever see a hanging?'-'No, n… Nor ever wish to see such scandal… But once I saw a wretch condemn’d… A lean-faced, bright-eyed youth, w… At the recital of a dream he had.
Cleon hath a million acres, Ne’er a one have I; Cleon dwelleth in a palace, In a cottage I; Cleon hath a dozen fortunes,
Hurrah! for the land of the thistl… The clime of the fair and free! Where the lassies are bonnie And loving as ony, The pride of the North Countrie!
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
Strew roses on the way, And think no more of grief, Short is the passing day, Short-lived the summer leaf; Short is our mortal span
O! sadly, ye dark rolling waves of… O! sadly ye beat on this desolate… And wake, with the voice of your r… Sad thoughts of the home 1 must vi… From the far distant land which ha…
I knew thee in the sunny hour, When Fortune shed her brightest b… And thought, should e’er the tempe… Thy love would wither like a dream… I deemed that it was feigned and c…
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.
If I were a voice, a persuasive v… That could travel the wide world t… I would fly on the beams of the mo… And speak to men with a gentle mig… And tell them to be true.
A mighty tempest rent the sky, As if a god were passing by. Bending to earth my humbled head, In solemn and religious dread, And kneeling on the sod,
The soldier bold, when the bugles… Must start from his pleasant sleep… To measure alone his weary round On the gloomy castle-keep. But we, merry men, in the pathless…
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,
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