#ScottishWriters
To Mary In Heaven Thou lingering star, with less’nin… That lov’st to greet the early mor… Again thou usherast in the day My Mary from my soul was torn.
WHILE larks, with little wing, Fann’d the pure air, Tasting the breathing Spring, Forth I did fare: Gay the sun’s golden eye
NOW westlin winds and slaught’rin… Bring Autumn’s pleasant weather; The moorcock springs on whirring w… Amang the blooming heather: Now waving grain, wide o’er the pl…
LET other heroes boast their scar… The marks of sturt and strife: And other poets sing of wars, The plagues of human life: Shame fa’ the fun, wi’ sword and g…
FY, let us a’ to Kirkcudbright, For there will be bickerin’ there; For Murray’s light horse are to m… And O how the heroes will swear! And there will be Murray, Command…
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…
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;
MY father was a farmer upon the C… And carefully he bred me in decenc… He bade me act a manly part, thoug… For without an honest manly heart,… Then out into the world my course…
O Thou, the first, the greatest f… Of all the human race! Whose strong right hand has ever b… Their stay and dwelling place! Before the mountains heav’d their…
NO 1 sculptured marble here, nor… “No storied urn nor animated bust;… This simple stone directs pale Sc… To pour her sorrows o’er the Poet… ADDITIONAL STANZASShe mou…
O on the fourteenth day of Februa… In the bold Princess Royal bound… We had forty bright sailors for ou… And boldly from the eastward to th… We had not been sailing scarce day…
THERE 1 was a lad was born in K… But whatna day o’ whatna style, I doubt it’s hardly worth the whil… To be sae nice wi’ Robin. Chor.—Robin was a rovin’ boy,
My love, she’s but a lassie yet, My love, she’s but a lassie yet! We’ll let her stand a year or twa, She’ll no be half sae saucy yet! I rue the day I sought her, O!
My heart is a—breaking, dear Titt… Some counsel unto me come len’; To anger them a’ is a pity, But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen? I’m thinking, wi’ sic a braw fello…
MUSING on the roaring ocean, Which divides my love and me; Wearying heav’n in warm devotion, For his weal where’er he be. Hope and Fear’s alternate billow