#Scots #XVIIICentury
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…
FATE gave the word, the arrow sp… And pierc’d my darling’s heart; And with him all the joys are fled Life can to me impart. By cruel hands the sapling drops,
DAUGHTER of Chaos’ doting year… Nurse of ten thousand hopes and fe… Whether thy airy, insubstantial sh… (The rights of sepulture now duly… Spread abroad its hideous form
HEALTH to the Maxwell’s vetera… Health, aye unsour’d by care or gr… Inspir’d, I turn’d Fate’s sibyl l… This natal morn, I see thy life is stuff o’ prief,
O Thou, the first, the greatest f… Of all the human race! Whose strong right hand has ever b… Their stay and dwelling place! Before the mountains heav’d their…
O DEATH, had’st thou but spar’d… Whom we this day lament, We freely wad exchanged the wife, And a’ been weel content. Ev’n as he is, cauld in his graff,
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,
YOU’RE welcome to Despots, Dumo… You’re welcome to Despots, Dumour… How does Dampiere do? Ay, and Bournonville too? Why did they not come along with y…
Chorus:—Bonie wee thing, cannie w… Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wad wear thee in my bosom, Lest my jewel it should tine. Wishfully I look and languish
Braw, braw lads on Yarrow-braes, They rove amang the blooming heath… But Yarrow braes, nor Ettrick sha… Can match the lads o’ Galla Water… But there is ane, a secret ane,
STRAIT is the spot and green th… From whence my sorrows flow; And soundly sleeps the ever dear Inhabitant below. Pardon my transport, gentle shade,
The Couper o’ Cuddy came here awa… He ca’d the girrs out o’er us a’; An’ our gudewife has gotten a ca’, That’s anger’d the silly gudeman… We’ll hide the Couper behint the…
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.
Farewell, ye dungeons dark and str… The wretch’s destinie! McPherson’s time will not be long… On yonder gallows-tree. Sae rantingly, sae wantonly,
MY girl she’s airy, she’s buxom a… Her breath is as sweet as the blos… A touch of her lips it ravishes qu… She’s always good natur’d, good hu… She dances, she glances, she smile…