#ScottishWriters
ASK why God made the gem so smal… And why so huge the granite?' Because God meant mankind should… That higher value on it.
ON Cessnock banks a lassie dwells… Could I describe her shape and me… Our lasses a’ she far excels, An’ she has twa sparkling roguish… She’s sweeter than the morning daw…
Tune —“Invercauld’s Reel, or Str… Choir. —O Tibbie, I hae seen the… Ye wadna been sae shy; For laik o’ gear ye lightly me, But, trowth, I care na by.
TO Riddell, much lamented man, This ivied cot was dear; Wandr’er, dost value matchless wor… This ivied cot revere.
Chorus Ca’ the yowes to the knowes, Ca’ them where the heather grows Ca’ them where the burnie rows, My bonie dearie.
Chor.'And I’ll kiss thee yet, y… And I’ll kiss thee o’er again: And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, My bonie Peggy Alison. ILK care and fear, when thou art…
Farewell, ye dungeons dark and str… The wretch’s destinie! M’Pherson’s time will not be long On yonder gallows-tree. Chorus:
Should auld acquaintance be forgot… And never brought to mind? Should auld acquaintance be forgot… And auld lang syne! Chorus —For auld land syne, my de…
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;
DOES haughty Gaul invasion threa… Then let the louns beware, Sir; There’s wooden walls upon our seas… And volunteers on shore, Sir: The Nith shall run to Corsincon,
Chorus’Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow While my soul’s delight Is on her bed of sorrow. CAN I cease to care?
THOU of an independent mind, With soul resolv’d, with soul resi… Prepar’d Power’s proudest frown t… Who wilt not be, nor have a slave; Virtue alone who dost revere,
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,
Chorus.'Bonie wee thing, cannie… Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wad wear thee in my bosom, Lest my jewel it should tine. WISHFULLY I look and languish
Fareweel to a’ our Scottish fame, Fareweel our ancient glory; Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish nam… Sae famed in martial story! Now Sark rins over Solway sands,