#Scots
I dream’d I lay where flowers wer… Gaily in the sunny beam; List’ning to the wild birds singin… By a falling crystal stream: Straight the sky grew black and da…
O THOU, in whom we live and move… Who made the sea and shore; Thy goodness constantly we prove, And grateful would adore; And, if it please Thee, Power abo…
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
MY father was a farmer upon the C… And carefully he bred me in decenc… He bade me act a manly part, thoug… For without an honest manly heart,… Then out into the world my course…
DOES haughty Gaul invasion threa… Then let the louns beware, Sir; There’s wooden walls upon our seas… And volunteers on shore, Sir: The Nith shall run to Corsincon,
O, were my love yon lilac fair Wi’ purple blossoms to the spring, And I a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing. How I wad mourn when it was torn
FROM those drear solitudes and f… Where Infamy with sad Repentance… Where turnkeys make the jealous po… And deal from iron hands the spare… Where truant 'prentices, yet young…
[First Setting] Comin thro’ the rye, poor body, Comin thro’ the rye, She draigl’t a’ her petticoatie Comin thro’ the rye.
When o’er the hill the eastern sta… Tells bughtin-time is near, my jo, And owsen frae the furrow’d field Return sae dowf and weary O; Down by the burn where scented bir…
As I was a—wand’ring ae morning i… I heard a young ploughman sae swee… And as he was singin’, thir words… There’s nae life like the ploughma… The lav’rock in the morning she’ll…
SHE’S fair and fause that causes… I lo’ed her meikle and lang; She’s broken her vow, she’s broken… And I may e’en gae hang. A coof cam in wi’ routh o’ gear,
Yestreen I had a pint o’ wine, A place where body saw na; Yestreen lay on this breast o’ min… The gowden locks of Anna. The hungry Jew in wilderness
Now westlin winds and slaught’ring… Bring autumn’s pleasant weather; And the moorcock springs, on whirr… Amang the blooming heather; Now waving grain, wide o’er the pl…
When by a generous Public’s kind… That dearest meed is granted—hones… When here your favour is the actor… Nor even the man in private life f… What breast so dead to heav’nly V…
There lived a carl in Kellyburn B… Hey and the rue grows bonie wi’ th… And he had a wife was the plague o… And the thyme it is wither’d and r… [And he had a wife was the plague…
