#ScottishWriters
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…
“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
A Song of Similes Tune —‘If he be a Butcher neat an… On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells… Could I describe her shape and me… Our lasses a’ she far excels,
HEAR, Land o’ Cakes, and brithe… Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat’… If there’s a hole in a’ your coats… I rede you tent it: A chield’s amang you takin notes,
Oh wert thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I’d shelter thee, I’d shelter the… Or did misfortune’s bitter storms
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…
Cauld blaws the wind frae east to… The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud shrill`s I hear the blas… I`m sure it`s winters fairly. CHORUS:Up in the morning`s no f…
It was upon a Lammas night, When corn rigs are bonnie, Beneath the moon’s unclouded light… I held away to Annie: The time flew by wi’ tentless heed
Behind yon hills, where Lugar flo… 'Mang moors an’ mosses many, O, The wintry sun the day has clos’d, And I’ll awa to Nannie, O. The westlin wind blaws loud and sh…
Chorus:—Bonie wee thing, cannie w… Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wad wear thee in my bosom, Lest my jewel it should tine. Wishfully I look and languish
BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arri… My dearest Nancy, O fareweel! Severed frae thee, can I survive, Frae thee whom I hae lov’d sae we… Endless and deep shall be my grief…
AE day, as Death, that gruesome c… Was driving to the tither warl’ A mixtie-maxtie motley squad, And mony a guilt-bespotted lad— Black gowns of each denomination,
FOR lords or kings I dinna mourn… E’en let them die-for that they’re… But oh! prodigious to reflec’! A Towmont, sirs, is gane to wreck… O Eighty-eight, in thy sma’ space…
ONE night as I did wander, When corn begins to shoot, I sat me down to ponder Upon an auld tree root; Auld Ayr ran by before me,