#ScottishWriters
TO Riddell, much lamented man, This ivied cot was dear; Wandr’er, dost value matchless wor… This ivied cot revere.
THERE was a wife wonn’d in Cock… Scroggam; She brew’d gude ale for gentlemen; Sing auld Cowl lay ye down by me, Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum.
WHOE’ER thou art, O reader, kno… That Death has murder’d Johnie; An’ here his body lies fu’ low; For saul he ne’er had ony.
O GOWDIE, terror o’ the whigs, Dread o’ blackcoats and rev’rend w… Sour Bigotry, on her last legs, Girns an’ looks back, Wishing the ten Egyptian plagues
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…
Sweet fa’s the eve on Craigieburn… And blythe awakens the morrow, But a’ the pride o’ spring’s retur… Can yield me nocht but sorrow. I see the flowers and spreading tr…
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
GO fetch to me a pint o’ wine, An’ fill it in a silver tassie, That I may drink, before I go, A service to my bonnie lassie. The boat rocks at the pier o’ Lei…
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
Inhuman man! curse on thy barb’rou… And blasted by thy murder—aiming e… May never pity soothe thee with a… Nor never pleasure glad thy cruel… Go live, poor wanderer of the wood…
‘Wha is that at my bower—door?’ ‘O wha is it but Findlay!’ 'Then gae your gate, ye’se nae be… ‘Indeed maun I,’ quo’ Findlay; 'What mak’ ye, sae like a thief?'
A’ YE wha live by sowps o’ drink, A’ ye wha live by crambo-clink, A’ ye wha live and never think, Come, mourn wi’ me! Our billie 's gien us a’ a jink,
CLARINDA, mistres of my soul, The measur’d time is run! The wretch beneath the dreary pole So marks his latest sun. To what dark cave of frozen night
When Januar’ wind was blawing cau… As to the north I took my way, The mirksome night did me enfauld, I knew na whare to lodge till day: By my gude luck a maid I met,
SING on, sweet thrush, upon the… Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to… See aged Winter, 'mid his surly r… At thy blythe carol, clears his fu… So in lone Poverty’s dominion dre…