#ScottishWriters
HEY, the dusty Miller, And his dusty coat, He will win a shilling, Or he spend a groat: Dusty was the coat,
Humid seal of soft affections, Tend’rest pledge of future bliss, Dearest tie of young connections, Love’s first snow—drop, virgin kis… Speaking silence, dumb confession,
WHILE briers an’ woodbines buddi… An’ paitricks scraichin loud at e’… An’ morning poussie whiddin seen, Inspire my muse, This freedom, in an unknown frien’…
THERE was a lass, and she was fa… At kirk or market to be seen; When a’ our fairest maids were met… The fairest maid was bonie Jean. And aye she wrought her mammie’s w…
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…
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
Chorus’We’ll hide the Cooper be… Behint the door, behint the door, We’ll hide the Cooper behint the… And cover him under a mawn, O. THE COOPER o’ Cuddy came here…
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.
All devil as I am—a damned wretch… A hardened, stubborn, unrepenting… Still my heart melts at human wret… And with sincere but unavailing si… I view the helpless children of di…
SOME books are lies frae end to… And some great lies were never pen… Ev’n ministers they hae been kenn’… In holy rapture, A rousing whid at times to vend,
O LEAVE novels, 1 ye Mauchline… Ye’re safer at your spinning-wheel… Such witching books are baited hoo… For rakish rooks, like Rob Mossgi… Your fine Tom Jones and Grandiso…
GANE is the day, and mirk’s the… But we’ll ne’er stray for faut o’… Gude ale and bratdy’s stars and mo… And blue-red wine’s the risin’ sun… Chorus.'Then gudewife, count th…
Among the heathy hills and ragged… 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…
NOW in her green mantle blythe N… And listens the lambkins that blea… While birds warble welcomes in ilk… But to me it’s delightless’my N… The snawdrap and primrose our wood…
HOW cold is that bosom which foll… How pale is that cheek where the r… How silent that tongue which the e… How dull is that ear which to flat… If sorrow and anguish their exit a…