#Scots #XVIIICentury
Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear… Ye Jacobites by name, lend an ear… Ye Jacobites by name, Your fautes I will proclaim, Your doctrines I maun blame —you…
O I’ve walked o’er yon countries… Among Airlin’s braw lasses I’ve h… Comin’ hame in the mornins, fin I… Fin I wis a plooboy on Airlin’s f… O the first thing I did, fin I ga…
FOR lords or kings I dinna mourn… E’en let them die-for that they’re… But oh! prodigious to reflec’! A Towmont, sirs, is gane to wreck… O Eighty-eight, in thy sma’ space…
Will ye go the Highlands Leezie… Will ye go to the Highlands wi’ m… Will ye go to the Highlands Leezi… My pride and my darling to be.
THIS 1 wot ye all whom it concer… I, Rhymer Robin, alias Burns, October twenty-third, A ne’er-to-be-forgotten day, Sae far I sprackl’d up the brae,
When Januar’ wind was blawing cau… As to the north I took my way, The mirksome night did me enfauld, I knew na whare to lodge till day: By my gude luck a maid I met,
AS I stood by yon roofless tower, Where the wa’flower scents the dew… Where the howlet mourns in her ivy… And tells the midnight moon her ca… The winds were laid, the air was s…
GUDEWIFE, I MIND it weel in… When I was bardless, young, and b… An’ first could thresh the barn, Or haud a yokin’ at the pleugh; An, tho’ forfoughten sair eneugh,
HE who of Rankine sang, lies stif… And a green grassy hillock hides h… Alas! alas! a devilish change inde…
THE KING’S most humble servant… Can scarcely spare a minute; But I’ll be wi’ you by an’ by; Or else the Deil’s be in it.
BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arri… My dearest Nancy, O fareweel! Severed frae thee, can I survive, Frae thee whom I hae lov’d sae we… Endless and deep shall be my grief…
THE NIGHT was still, and o’er… The moon shone on the castle wa’; The mavis sang, while dew-drops ha… Around her on the castle wa’; Sae merrily they danced the ring
Out over the Forth, I look to the… But what is the North and its Hig… The South, nor the East, gie ease… The far foreign land, or the wide… But I look to the West, when I g…
SHREWD Willie Smellie to Croch… The old cock’d hat, the grey surto… His bristling beard just rising in… 'Twas four long nights and days to… His uncomb’d grizzly locks, wild s…
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…
