#ScottishWriters
O, whistle an’ I’ll come to ye, m… O, whistle an’ I’ll come to ye, m… Tho’ father an’ mother an’ a’ shou… O, whistle an’ I’ll come to ye, m… But warily tent when ye come to co…
AN HONEST man here lies at res… As e’er God with his image blest; The friend of man, the friend of t… The friend of age, and guide of yo… Few hearts like his, with virtue w…
Farewell, ye dungeons dark and str… The wretch’s destinie! M’Pherson’s time will not be long On yonder gallows—tree. Chorus:
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…
I HAE a wife of my ain, I’ll partake wi’ naebody; I’ll take Cuckold frae nane, I’ll gie Cuckold to naebody. I hae a penny to spend,
O, were my love yon lilac fair Wi’ purple blossoms to the spring, And I a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing. How I wad mourn when it was torn
PEG NICHOLSON was a good bay… As ever trod on airn; But now she’s floating down the N… And past the mouth o’ Cairn. Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare…
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…
O Mary, at thy window be, It is the wish’d, the trysted hour… Those smiles and glances let me se… That makes the miser’s treasure po… How blythely wad I bide the stour…
THE lovely lass o’ Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e’en and morn she cries, ‘Ala… And aye the saut tear blin’s her e… 'Drumossie moor, Drumossie day,
The sun lies clasped in amber clou… Half hidden in the sea, And o’er the sands the flowing tid… Comes racing merrilee. The hawthorn hedge is white with b…
FRAE the friends and land I love… Driv’n by Fortune’s felly spite; Frae my best belov’d I rove, Never mair to taste delight: Never mair maun hope to find
WHY, why tell thy lover Bliss he never must enjoy"? Why, why undeceive him, And give all his hopes the lie? O why, while fancy, raptur’d slumb…
The winter it is past, and the sum… And the small birds, they sing on… Now ev’ry thing is glad, while… Since my true love is parted from… The rose upon the breer, by the wa…
CLARINDA, mistres of my soul, The measur’d time is run! The wretch beneath the dreary pole So marks his latest sun. To what dark cave of frozen night