#ScottishWriters
Wee Willie Gray, and his leather… Peel a willow wand to be him boots… The rose upon the breir will be hi… The rose upon the breir will be hi… Wee Willie Gray, and his leather…
Ye banks and braes o’ bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fai… How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu’ o’ care! Thou’ll break my heart, thou warbl…
O WERE my Love yon lilac fair, Wi’ purple blossoms to the spri… And I a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing; How I wad mourn when it was torn
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’…
FRAE the friends and land I love… Driv’n by Fortune’s felly spite; Frae my best belov’d I rove, Never mair to taste delight: Never mair maun hope to find
It was a’ for our rightful king That we left fair Scotland’s stra… It was a’ for our rightful king We e’er saw Irish land, My dear,
THE SMILING Spring comes in r… And surly Winter grimly flies; Now crystal clear are the falling… And bonie blue are the sunny skies… Fresh o’er the mountains breaks fo…
O HOW shall I, unskilfu’, try The poet’s occupation? The tunefu’ powers, in happy hours… That whisper inspiration; Even they maun dare an effort mair
O RAGING Fortune’s withering b… Has laid my leaf full low, O! O raging Fortune’s withering blas… Has laid my leaf full low, O! My stem was fair, my bud was green…
ON a bank of flowers, in a summer… For summer lightly drest, The youthful, blooming Nelly lay, With love and sleep opprest; When Willie, wand’ring thro’ the…
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…
WHEN chill November’s surly blas… Made fields and forests bare, One ev’ning, as I wander’d forth Along the banks of Ayr, I spied a man, whose aged step
O Thou Great Being! what Thou ar… Surpasses me to know; Yet sure I am, that known to Thee Are all Thy works below. Thy creature here before Thee sta…
NOW Robin 1 lies in his last lai… He’ll gabble rhyme, nor sing nae m… Cauld poverty, wi’ hungry stare, Nae mair shall fear him; Nor anxious fear, nor cankert care…
LORD, we thank, and thee adore, For temporal gifts we little merit… At present we will ask no more’ Let William Hislop give the spiri…