#ScottishWriters
THE GLOOMY night is gath’ring… Loud roars the wild, inconstant bl… Yon murky cloud is foul with rain, I see it driving o’er the plain; The hunter now has left the moor.
THERE lived a carl in Kellyburn… Hey, and the rue grows bonie wi’ t… And he had a wife was the plague o… And the thyme it is wither’d, and… Ae day as the carl gaed up the lan…
I hae seen the hairst o’ Rettie,… And twa—three aff the throne. I’ve heard o sax and seven weeks The hairsters girn and groan. But wi’ a covie Willie Rae
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…
O WERE my love yon Lilac fair, Wi’ purple blossoms to the Spring… And I, a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing! How I wad mourn when it was torn
WHAT will I do gin my Hoggie di… My joy, my pride, my Hoggie! My only beast, I had nae mae, And vow but I was vogie! The lee-lang night we watch’d the…
O stay, sweet warbling wood—lark,… Nor quit for me the trembling spra… A hapless lover courts thy lay, Thy soothing fond complaining. Again, again that tender part,
CURSE on ungrateful man, that ca… And yet can starve the author of t… O thou, my elder brother in misfor… By far my elder brother in the Mu… With tears I pity thy unhappy fat…
O THOU, in whom we live and move… Who made the sea and shore; Thy goodness constantly we prove, And grateful would adore; And, if it please Thee, Power abo…
1 Upon a simmer Sunday morn, 2 When Nature’s face is fai… 3 I walked forth to view the cor… 4 An’ snuff the caller air. 5 The risin’ sun owre Galston m…
Last May a braw wooer cam down th… And sair wi’ his love he did deave… I said there was naething I hated… The deuce gae wi ‘m to believe me,… The deuce gae wi ’m to believe me.
BEHIND yon hills where Lugar fl… 'Mang moors an’ mosses many, O, The wintry sun the day has clos’d, And I’ll awa to Nanie, O. The westlin wind blaws loud an’ sh…
WHERE hae ye been sae braw, lad? Whare hae ye been sae brankie, O? Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad? Cam ye by Killiecrankie, O? Chorus.'An ye had been whare I…
O MAY, thy morn was ne’er so swe… As the mirk night o’ December! For sparkling was the rosy wine, And private was the chamber: And dear was she I dare na name,
MY Sandy gied to me a ring, Was a’ beset wi’ diamonds fine; But I gied him a far better thing… I gied my heart in pledge o’ his r… Chorus.—My Sandy O, my Sandy O,