#ScottishWriters
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…
Tune —“The Braes o’ Balquhidder.… Chor. —And I’ll kiss thee yet, ye… And I’ll kiss thee o’er again: And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, My bonie Peggy Alison.
OLD Winter, with his frosty bear… Thus once to Jove his prayer pref… “What have I done of all the year… To bear this hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know…
AS Tam the chapman on a day, Wi’Death forgather’d by the way, Weel pleas’d, he greets a wight so… And Death was nae less pleas’d wi… Wha cheerfully lays down his pack,
YE maggots, feed on Nicol’s brain… For few sic feasts you’ve gotten; And fix your claws in Nicol’s hea… For deil a bit o’t’s rotten.
Chorus.'I’m o’er young, I’m o’e… I’m o’er young to marry yet; I’m o’er young, 'twad be a sin To tak me frae my mammy yet. I AM my mammny’s ae bairn,
Chorus’O aye my wife she dang m… An’ aft my wife she bang’d me, If ye gie a woman a’ her will, Gude faith! she’ll soon o’er-gang… ON peace an’ rest my mind was ben…
THERE was once a day, but old T… That brave Caledonia, the chief o… From some of your northern deities… (Who knows not that brave Caledon… From Tweed to the Orcades was her…
KNOW thou, O stranger to the fam… Of this much lov’d, much honoured… (For none that knew him need be to… A warmer heart death ne’er made co…
OUT over the Forth, I look to th… But what is the north and its Hig… The south nor the east gie ease to… The far foreign land, or the wide… But I look to the west when I gae…
IN wood and wild, ye warbling thr… Your heavy loss deplore; Now, half extinct your powers of s… Sweet Echo is no more. Ye jarring, screeching things arou…
HONEST 1 Will to Heaven’s away And mony shall lament him; His fau’ts they a’ in Latin lay, In English nane e’er kent them.
AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roa… Whom kingdoms on this day should h… An inmate in the casual shed, On transient pity’s bounty fed, Haunted by busy memory’s bitter ta…
AS I stood by yon roofless tower, Where the wa’flower scents the dew… Where the howlet mourns in her ivy… And tells the midnight moon her ca… The winds were laid, the air was s…
WHEN Princes and Prelates, And hot-headed zealots, A’ Europe had set in a low, a low… The poor man lies down, Nor envies a crown,