#ScottishWriters
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
HEE balou, my sweet wee Donald, Picture o’ the great Clanronald; Brawlie kens our wanton Chief Wha gat my young Highland thief. Leeze me on thy bonie craigie,
LORD, we thank, and thee adore, For temporal gifts we little merit… At present we will ask no more’ Let William Hislop give the spiri…
Oppress’d with grief, oppress’d wi… A burden more than I can bear, I set me down and sigh: O life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road,
Talk not of love, it gives me pain… For love has been my foe; He bound me in an iron chain, And plung’d me deep in woe. But friendship’s pure and lasting…
Is there for honest poverty That hangs his head, an’ a’ that? The coward slave, we pass him by We dare be poor for a’ that. For a’ that, an’ a’ that,
WHILE at the stook the shearers… To shun the bitter blaudin’ show’r… Or in gulravage rinnin scowr To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour
There’s nane that’s blest of human… But the cheerful and the gay, man, Fal, la, la, &c. Here’s a bottle and an honest frie… What wad ye wish for mair, man?
AS on the banks o’ wandering Nith… Ae smiling simmer morn I stray’d, And traced its bonie howes and hau… Where linties sang and lammies pla… I sat me down upon a craig,
ONE Queen Artemisia, as old stor… When deprived of her husband she l… In respect for the love and affect… She reduc’d him to dust and she dr… But Queen Netherplace, of a diff’…
WITH Pegasus upon a day, Apollo, weary flying, Through frosty hills the journey l… On foot the way was plying. Poor slipshod giddy Pegasus
Wee, sleeket, cowrin, tim’rous bea… Oh, what a panic’s in thy breastie… Thou need na start awa sae hasty Wi’ bickerin brattle! I wad be laith to rin an’ chase th…
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o’ the puddin—race… Aboon them a’ ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm: Weel are ye wordy of a grace
WHEN dear Clarinda, 1 matchless… First struck Sylvander’s raptur’d… He gaz’d, he listened to despair, Alas! 'twas all he dared to do. Love, from Clarinda’s heavenly ey…
LET other heroes boast their scar… The marks of sturt and strife: And other poets sing of wars, The plagues of human life: Shame fa’ the fun, wi’ sword and g…