#ScottishWriters
I CALL no Goddess to inspire my… A fabled Muse may suit a bard tha… Friend of my life! my ardent spiri… And all the tribute of my heart re… For boons accorded, goodness ever…
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,
The sun he is sunk in the west; All creatures retired to rest, While here I sit, all sore beset, With sorrow, grief, and woe: And it’s O, fickle Fortune, O!
HERE Souter Hood in death does… To hell if he’s gane thither, Satan, gie him thy gear to keep; He’ll haud it weel thegither.
ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire, And waste my soul with care; But ah! how bootless to admire, When fated to despair! Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair,
TO you, sir, this summons I’ve se… Pray, whip till the pownie is frea… But if you demand what I want, I honestly answer you—naething. Ne’er scorn a poor Poet like me,
O ROUGH, rude, ready-witted Ran… The wale o’ cocks for fun an’ drin… There’s mony godly folks are think… Your dreams and tricks Will send you, Korah-like, a-sink…
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.
When first my brave Johnie lad ca… He had a blue bonnet that wanted t… But now he has gotten a hat and a… Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up yo… Cock up your beaver, and cock it f…
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.
WHILE larks, with little wing, Fann’d the pure air, Tasting the breathing Spring, Forth I did fare: Gay the sun’s golden eye
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…
Is there a whim—inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot fo… Owre blate to seek, owre proud to… Let him draw near; And owre this grassy heap sing doo…
“O cam ye here the fight to shun, Or herd the sheep wi’ me, man? Or were ye at the Sherra—moor, Or did the battle see, man?” “I saw the battle, sair and teugh
O THOU, in whom we live and move… Who made the sea and shore; Thy goodness constantly we prove, And grateful would adore; And, if it please Thee, Power abo…