#ScottishWriters
AS father Adam first was fool’d, (A case that’s still too common,) Here lies man a woman ruled, The devil ruled the woman.
Ha! whare ye gaun, ye crowlan ferl… Your impudence protects you sairly… I canna say but ye strunt rarely, Owre gauze and lace; Tho’, faith! I fear ye dine but s…
When chapman billies leave the str… And drouthy neebors neebors meet, As market—days are wearing late, And folk begin to tak the gate; While we sit bousin, at the nappy,
AGAIN the silent wheels of time Their annual round have driven, And you, tho’ scarce in maiden pri… Are so much nearer Heaven. No gifts have I from Indian coast…
IN this strange land, this uncout… A land unknown to prose or rhyme; Where words ne’er cross’t the Mus… Nor limpit in poetic shackles: A land that Prose did never view…
Ye gallants bright, I red ye righ… Beware o’ bonnie Ann; Her comely face sae fu’ o’ grace, Your heart she will trepan. Her een sae bright, like stars by…
AMONG the heathy hills and ragge… The roaring Fyers pours his mossy… Till full he dashes on the rocky m… Where, thro’ a shapeless breach, h… As high in air the bursting torren…
Farewell, ye dungeons dark and str… The wretch’s destinie! McPherson’s time will not be long… On yonder gallows-tree. Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,
BELOW thir stanes lie Jamie’s b… O Death, it’s my opinion, Thou ne’er took such a bleth’rin b… Into thy dark dominion!
BY all I lov’d, neglected and for… No friendly face e’er lights my sq… Shunn’d, hated, wrong’d, unpitied,… The mock’d quotation of the scorne… Ev’n the poor súpport of my wretch…
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’…
NO more, ye warblers of the wood!… Nor pour your descant grating on m… Thou young-eyed Spring! gay in th… More welcome were to me grim Wint… How can ye charm, ye flowers, with…
KNOW thou, O stranger to the fam… Of this much lov’d, much honoured… (For none that knew him need be to… A warmer heart death ne’er made co…
The heather was blooming, the mead… Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at… O’er moors and o’er mosses and mon… At length they discover’d a bonie… Chorus.-I rede you, beware at the…
Scots, what hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victorie! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;
