#ScottishWriters
AULD comrade dear, and brither s… How’s a’ the folk about Glenconne… How do you this blae eastlin wind, That’s like to blaw a body blind? For me, my faculties are frozen,
Ye flowery banks o’ bonnie Doon, How can ye blume sae fair? How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae fu’ o’ care? Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie…
MUSING on the roaring ocean, Which divides my love and me; Wearying heav’n in warm devotion, For his weal where’er he be. Hope and Fear’s alternate billow
THO’ cruel fate should bid us par… Far as the pole and line, Her dear idea round my heart, Should tenderly entwine. Tho’ mountains, rise, and deserts…
Upon that night, when fairies ligh… On Cassilis Downans dance, Or owre the lays, in splendid blaz… On sprightly coursers prance; Or for Colean the route is ta’en,
My curse upon your venom’d stang, That shoots my tortur’d gums alang… And thro’ my lugs gies mony a twan… Wi’ gnawing vengeance; Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang,
NOW westlin winds and slaught’rin… Bring Autumn’s pleasant weather; The moorcock springs on whirring w… Amang the blooming heather: Now waving grain, wide o’er the pl…
AS father Adam first was fool’d, (A case that’s still too common,) Here lies man a woman ruled, The devil ruled the woman.
Chorus’Long, long the night, Heavy comes the morrow While my soul’s delight Is on her bed of sorrow. CAN I cease to care?
O THOU who kindly dost provide For every creature’s want! We bless Thee, God of Nature wid… For all Thy goodness lent: And if it please Thee, Heavenly…
Ye banks, and braes, and streams a… The castle o’ Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your… Your waters never drumlie! There Simmer first unfald her rob…
THOU, Liberty, thou art my theme… Not such as idle poets dream, Who trick thee up a heathen goddes… That a fantastic cap and rod has; Such stale conceits are poor and s…
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…
I hae seen the hairst o’ Rettie,… And twa—three aff the throne. I’ve heard o sax and seven weeks The hairsters girn and groan. But wi’ a covie Willie Rae
“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