#Scots
O who, that shared them, ever shal… The emotions of the spirit-rousing… When breathless in the mart the co… Early and late, at evening and at… When the loud cannon and the merry…
It was Dunois, the young and brav… But first he made his orisons befo… ‘And grant, immortal Queen of Hea… ‘That I may prove the bravest kni… His oath of honour on the shrine h…
The herring loves the merry moon-l… The mackerel loves the wind, But the oyster loves the dredging… For they come of a gentle kind. Now haud your tongue, baith wife a…
Whet the bright steel, Sons of the White Dragon! Kindle the torch, Daughter of Hengist! The steel glimmers not for the car…
Farewell, merry maidens, to song,… For the brave lads of Westra are… And we must have labour, and hunge… Ere we dance with the maids of Du… For now, in our trim boats of Nor…
It was an English ladye bright, (The sun shines fair on Carlisle… And she would marry a Scottish kn… For Love will still be lord of al… Blithely they saw the rising sun
Soft spread the southern sumer nig… Her veil of darksome blue; Ten thousand stars combined to lig… The terrace of Saint Cloud. The evening breezes gently sigh’d,
And what though winter will pinch… Through locks of grey and a cloak… Yet keep up thy heart, bold cavali… For a cup of sack shall fence the… For time will rust the brightest b…
TO mute and to material things New life revolving summer brings; The genial call dead Nature hears… And in her glory reappears. But oh, my Country’s wintry state
Soldier, rest! thy warfare o’er, Sleep the sleep that knows not bre… Dream of battled fields no more, Days of danger, nights of waking. In our isle’s enchanted hall,
And said I that my limbs were old… And said I that my blood was cold… And that my kindly fire was fled, And my poor wither’d heart was dea… And that I might not sing of love…
From heavy dreams fair Helen rose… And eyed the dawning red: ‘Alas, my love, thou tarriest long… O art thou false or dead?’- II.
From a rude isle, his ruder lineag… The spark, that, from a suburb hov… Ascending, wraps some capital in f… Hath not a meaner or more sordid b… And for the soul that bade him was…
Late, when the autumn evening fell On Mirkwood-Mere’s romantic dell, The lake returned, in chastened gl… The purple cloud, the golden beam: Reflected in the crystal pool,
Where shall the lover rest Whom the fates sever From the true maiden’s breast, Parted for ever?— Where, through groves deep and hig…