#ScottishWriters
This morning I vowed I would brin… They were thrust in the band that… But the breast-knots were broken,… The breast-knots were broken; the… Floated forth on the wings of the…
MOWERS, weary and brown, and bl… What is the word methinks ye know, Endless over-word that the Scythe Sings to the blades of the grass b… Scythes that swing in the grass an…
The soft wind from the south land… He set his strength to blow, From forests where Adonis bled, And lily flowers a-row: He crossed the straits like stream…
Frae Dunidier as I cam throuch, Doun by the hill of Banochie, Allangst the lands of Garioch. Grit pitie was to heir and se The noys and dulesum hermonie,
The ferox rins in rough Loch Awe, A weary cry frae ony toun; The Spey, that loups o’er linn an… They praise a’ ither streams aboon… They boast their braes o’ bonny D…
SAY, fair maids, maying In gardens green, In deep dells straying, What end hath been Two Mays between
There lived a wife at Usher’s Wel… And a wealthy wife was she; She had three stout and stalwart s… And sent them oer the sea, They hadna been a week from her,
It fell on a day, and a bonnie sum… When the corn grew green and yello… That there fell out a great disput… Between Argyle and Airly. The Duke o’ Montrose has written…
Here stand my books, line upon lin… They reach the roof, and row by ro… They speak of faded tastes of mine… And things I did, but do not, kno… Old school books, useless long ago…
DEAD, with their eyes to the foe… Dead, with the foe at their feet; Under the sky laid low Truly their slumber is sweet, Though the wind from the Camp of…
There lived a king in southern lan… King Edward hight his name; Unwordily he wore the crown, Till fifty years were gane. He had a sister’s son o’s ain,
Rob Roy from the Highlands cam, Unto the Lawlan’ border, To steal awa a gay ladie To haud his house in order. He cam oure the lock o’ Lynn,
Of all the maids of fair Scotland… The fairest was Marjorie; And young Benjie was her ae true… And a dear true love was he. And wow but they were lovers dear,
‘O wha will shoe my fu’ fair foot? And wha will glove my hand? And wha will lace my middle jimp, Wi’ the new-made London band? ‘And wha will kaim my yellow hair,
NIGHT. Ah, listen through the music, from… The 'melancholy long-withdrawing r… Beneath the Minster, and the wind… The wide North Ocean, marshalling…