#Scots #XVIIICentury
Bonie wee thing, cannie wee thing, Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wad wear thee in my bosom, Lest my jewel it should tine. Wishfully I look and languish
BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arri… My dearest Nancy, O fareweel! Severed frae thee, can I survive, Frae thee whom I hae lov’d sae we… Endless and deep shall be my grief…
Ye flowery banks o’ bonnie Doon, How can ye blume sae fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu’ o’ care? Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie…
When Princes and Prelates and het… All Europe hae set in a lowe, The poor man lies down, nor envies… And comforts himsel with a mowe. And why shouldna poor folk mowe, m…
Sweet fa’s the eve on Craigieburn… And blythe awakens the morrow, But a’ the pride o’ spring’s retur… Can yield me nocht but sorrow. I see the flowers and spreading tr…
O DEATH! thou tyrant fell and b… The meikle devil wi’ a woodie Haurl thee hame to his black smidd… O’er hurcheon hides, And like stock-fish come o’er his…
Now simmer blinks on flow’ry braes… And o’er the crystal streamlet pla… Come, let us spend the lightsome d… In the birks of Aberfeldie! Bonnie lassie, will ye go,
Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;
Again rejoicing nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues, Her leafy looks wave in the breeze… All freshly steep’d in morning dew… And maun I still on Menie doat,
A Guide New-year I wish thee, Ma… Hae, there’s a ripp to thy auld ba… Tho’ thou’s howe-backit now, an’ k… I’ve seen the day There could hae gaen like ony stag…
THOU greybeard, old Wisdom! may… Give me with young Folly to live; I grant thee thy calm-blooded, tim… But Folly has raptures to give.
Thou’s welcome, wean; mishanter fa… If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy ma… Shall ever daunton me or awe me, My sweet wee lady, Or if I blush when thou shalt ca’…
O WERE my Love yon lilac fair, Wi’ purple blossoms to the spri… And I a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing; How I wad mourn when it was torn
O raging Fortune’s withering blas… Has laid my leaf full low! O O raging Fortune’s withering blas… Has laid my leaf full low! O My stem was fair my bud was green
NO Spartan tube, no Attic shell, No lyre Æolian I awake; ’Tis liberty’s bold note I swell, Thy harp, Columbia, let me take! See gathering thousands, while I…
