#ScottishWriters
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…
WHILE briers an’ woodbines buddi… An’ paitricks scraichin loud at e’… An’ morning poussie whiddin seen, Inspire my muse, This freedom, in an unknown frien’…
THIS day, Time winds th’ exhaust… To run the twelvemonth’s length ag… I see, the old bald-pated fellow, With ardent eyes, complexion sallo… Adjust the unimpair’d machine,
Scots, what hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victorie! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;
'TIS Friendship’s pledge, my you… Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. Since thou, in all thy youth and c…
GUDEWIFE, I MIND it weel in… When I was bardless, young, and b… An’ first could thresh the barn, Or haud a yokin’ at the pleugh; An, tho’ forfoughten sair eneugh,
O LORD, when hunger pinches sore… Do thou stand us in stead, And send us, from thy bounteous st… A tup or wether head! Amen.———— O Lord, since we have feasted thu…
Thou’s welcome, wean; mishanter fa… If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy ma… Shall ever daunton me or awe me, My sweet wee lady, Or if I blush when thou shalt ca’…
FATE gave the word, the arrow sp… And pierc’d my darling’s heart; And with him all the joys are fled Life can to me impart. By cruel hands the sapling drops,
O HAD each Scot of ancient times Been, Jeanie Scott, as thou art; The bravest heart on English grou… Had yielded like a coward.
THOU flatt’ring mark of friendsh… Still may thy pages call to mind The dear, the beauteous donor; Tho’ sweetly female ev’ry part, Yet such a head, and more the hear…
Lament in rhyme, lament in prose, Wi’ saut tears tricklin down your… Our bardie’s fate is at a close, Past a’ remead! The last, sad cape-stane o’ his wo…
Wae is my heart, and the tear’s in… Lang lang Joy’s been a stranger t… Forsaken and friendless, my burden… And the sweet voice o’ Pity ne’er… Love thou hast pleasures, and deep…
HAD I a cave on some wild distan… Where the winds howl to the wave’s… There would I weep my woes, There seek my lost repose, Till grief my eyes should close,
On a bank of flowers in a summer d… For summer lightly drest, The youthful, blooming Nelly lay, With love and sleep opprest; When Willie, wand’ring thro the w…