#ScottishWriters
KEMBLE, thou cur’st my unbelief For Moses and his rod; At Yarico’s sweet nor of grief The rock with tears had flow’d.
It was upon a Lammas night, When corn rigs are bonie, Beneath the moon’s unclouded light… I held awa to Annie: The time flew by, wi’ tentless hee…
IN wood and wild, ye warbling thr… Your heavy loss deplore; Now, half extinct your powers of s… Sweet Echo is no more. Ye jarring, screeching things arou…
OF all the numerous ills that hur… That press the soul, or wring the… Beyond comparison the worst are th… By our own folly, or our guilt bro… In ev’ry other circumstance, the m…
An old song improved... Chorus: Carle, an’ the King come, Carle, an’ the King come, Thou shalt dance and I will sing,
Here lies a mock Marquis, whose t… If ever he rise, it will be to be…
When biting Boreas, fell and dour… Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless b… When Phoebus gies a short—liv’d g… Far south the lift, Dim—dark’ning thro’ the flaky show…
Ye banks and braes o’ bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fai… How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu’ o’ care! Thou’ll break my heart, thou warbl…
O LORD, when hunger pinches sore… Do thou stand us in stead, And send us, from thy bounteous st… A tup or wether head! Amen.———— O Lord, since we have feasted thu…
O Kenmure’s on and awa, Willie, O Kenmure’s on and awa: An’ Kenmure’s lord’s the bravest… That ever Galloway saw. Success to Kenmure’s band, Willie…
WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond… An’ bar the doors wi’ driving snaw… An’ hing us owre the ingle, I set me down to pass the time, An’ spin a verse or twa o’ rhyme,
SWEET naïveté of feature, Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Not to thee, but thanks to Nature… Thou art acting but thyself. Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected…
WHY am I loth to leave this eart… Have I so found it full of pleasi… Some drops of joy with draughts of… Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renew… Is it departing pangs my soul alar…
It was in sweet Senegal that my f… For the lands of Virginia—ginia O… Torn from that lovely shore, and m… And alas! I am weary, weary O! Torn from &c.
There lived a carl in Kellyburn B… Hey and the rue grows bonie wi’ th… And he had a wife was the plague o… And the thyme it is wither’d and r… [And he had a wife was the plague…
