#ScottishWriters
O, WERE I on Parnassus hill, Or had o’ Helicon my fill, That I might catch poetic skill, To sing how dear I love thee! But Nith maun be my Muse’s well,
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…
Tune - “Laggan Burn.” Here’s to thy health, my bonie las… Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee; I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-do… To tell thee that I lo’e thee.
CEASE, ye prudes, your envious r… Lovely Burns has charms’confess… True it is, she had one failing, Had a woman ever less?
I MURDER hate by flood or field… Tho’ glory’s name may screen us; In wars at home I’ll spend my blo… Life-giving wars of Venus. The deities that I adore
Here’s a health to them that’s awa… Here’s a health to them that’s awa And wha winna wish guid luck to ou… May never guid luck be their fa’! It’s guid to be merry and wise,
The winter it is past, and the sum… And the small birds, they sing on… Now ev’ry thing is glad, while I… Since my true love is parted from… The rose upon the breer, by the wa…
Wee Willie Gray, and his leather… Peel a willow wand to be him boots… The rose upon the breir will be hi… The rose upon the breir will be hi… Wee Willie Gray, and his leather…
Ca’ the yowes to the knowes, Ca’ them where the heather grows Ca’ them where the burnie rows, My bonie dearie. Hark! the mavis’ evening sang
YON wandering rill that marks the… And glances o’er the brae, Sir, Slides by a bower, where mony a fl… Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir; There Damon lay, with Sylvia gay,
O HOW shall I, unskilfu’, try The poet’s occupation? The tunefu’ powers, in happy hours… That whisper inspiration; Even they maun dare an effort mair
THERE’S news, lassies, news, Gude news I’ve to tell! There’s a boatfu’ o’ lads Come to our town to sell. Chorus.—The wean wants a cradle,
HOW cruel are the parents Who riches only prize, And to the wealthy booby Poor Woman sacrifice! Meanwhile, the hapless Daughter
HOW can my poor heart be glad, When absent from my sailor lad; How can I the thought forego’ He’s on the seas to meet the foe? Let me wander, let me rove,
O Thou Great Being! what Thou ar… Surpasses me to know; Yet sure I am, that known to Thee Are all Thy works below. Thy creature here before Thee sta…