#ScottishWriters
THOU of an independent mind, With soul resolv’d, with soul resi… Prepar’d Power’s proudest frown t… Who wilt not be, nor have a slave; Virtue alone who dost revere,
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…
BLEST be M’Murdo to his latest… No envious cloud o’ercast his even… No wrinkle, furrow’d by the hand o… Nor ever sorrow add one silver hai… O may no son the father’s honour s…
HOW wisdom and Folly meet, mix,… How Virtue and Vice blend their b… How Genius, th’ illustrious fathe… Confounds rule and law, reconciles… I sing: If these mortals, the cri…
WHOE’ER thou art, O reader, kno… That Death has murder’d Johnie; An’ here his body lies fu’ low; For saul he ne’er had ony.
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…
CURSE on ungrateful man, that ca… And yet can starve the author of t… O thou, my elder brother in misfor… By far my elder brother in the Mu… With tears I pity thy unhappy fat…
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
MY heart is a-breaking, dear Titt… Some counsel unto me come len’, To anger them a’ is a pity, But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen? I’m thinking, wi’ sic a braw fello…
The winter it is past, and the sum… And the small birds, they sing on… Now ev’ry thing is glad, while… Since my true love is parted from… The rose upon the breer, by the wa…
Is there, for honest poverty, That hings his head, an’ a’ that? The coward slave, we pass him by, We dare be poor for a’ that! For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
HERE lies a mock Marquis, whose… If ever he rise, it will be to be…
Chorus’Here’s a health to ane I… Here’s a health to ane I loe dear… Thou art sweet as the smile when f… And soft as their parting tear’… ALTHO’ thou maun never be mine,
1 It was a’ for our rightful k… 2 That we left fair Scotl… 3 It was a’ for our rightful k… 4 We e’er saw Irish land, 5 My dear,
There’s nane that’s blest of human… But the cheerful and the gay, man. Here’s a bottle and an honest frie… What wad ye wish for mair, man? Wha kens, before his life may end,