#ScottishWriters
ONE night as I did wander, When corn begins to shoot, I sat me down to ponder Upon an auld tree root; Auld Ayr ran by before me,
WILLIE WASTLE dwalt on Tweed… The spot they ca’d it Linkumdoddi… Willie was a wabster gude, Could stown a clue wi’ ony body: He had a wife was dour and din,
Thou’s welcome, wean; mishanter fa… If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy ma… Shall ever daunton me or awe me, My sweet wee lady, Or if I blush when thou shalt ca’…
AS on the banks o’ wandering Nith… Ae smiling simmer morn I stray’d, And traced its bonie howes and hau… Where linties sang and lammies pla… I sat me down upon a craig,
“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,
Fair Empress of the poet’s soul, And Queen of poetesses; Clarinda, take this little boon, This humble pair of glasses: And fill them up with generous jui…
Talk not of love, it gives me pain… For love has been my foe; He bound me in an iron chain, And plung’d me deep in woe. But friendship’s pure and lasting…
Behind yon hills, where Lugar flo… 'Mang moors an’ mosses many, O, The wintry sun the day has clos’d, And I’ll awa to Nannie, O. The westlin wind blaws loud and sh…
LONG life, my Lord, an’ health b… Unskaithed by hunger’d Highland b… Lord grant me nae duddie, desperat… Wi’ dirk, claymore, and rusty trig… May twin auld Scotland o’ a life
O THOU dread Power, who reign’s… I know thou wilt me hear, When for this scene of peace and l… I make this prayer sincere. The hoary Sire’the mortal strok…
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…
HEAR, Land o’ Cakes, and brithe… Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat’… If there’s a hole in a’ your coats… I rede you tent it: A chield’s amang you takin notes,
ONE Queen Artemisia, as old stor… When deprived of her husband she l… In respect for the love and affect… She reduc’d him to dust and she dr… But Queen Netherplace, of a diff’…
BEHOLD, my love, how green the… The primrose banks how fair; The balmy gales awake the flowers, And wave thy flowing hair. The lav’rock shuns the palace gay,
Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous bea… O, what a panic’s in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, Wi’ bickerin brattle! I wad be laith to rin an’ chase th…