#ScottishWriters
Chorus’Fairest maid on Devon ba… Crystal Devon, winding Devon, Wilt thou lay that frown aside, And smile as thou wert wont to do? FULL well thou know’st I love th…
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,
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,
O WHY the deuce should I repine, And be an ill foreboder? I’m twenty-three, and five feet ni… I’ll go and be a sodger! I gat some gear wi’ mickle care,
Coming thro’ the rye, poor body, Coming thro’ the rye, She draiglet a’ her petticoatie Coming thro’ the rye. O, Jenny’s a’ wat, poor body;
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…
Farewell, ye dungeons dark and str… The wretch’s destinie! M’Pherson’s time will not be long On yonder gallows-tree. Chorus:
MY blessin’s upon thy sweet wee l… My blessin’s upon thy e’e-brie! Thy smiles are sae like my blythe… Thou’s aye the dearer, and dearer… But I’ll big a bow’r on yon bonie…
I GAT your letter, winsome Willi… Wi’ gratefu’ heart I thank you br… Tho’ I maun say’t, I wad be silly… And unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin billi…
All devil as I am—a damned wretch… A hardened, stubborn, unrepenting… Still my heart melts at human wret… And with sincere but unavailing si… I view the helpless children of di…
O MERRY hae I been teethin’ a h… An’ merry hae I been shapin’ a sp… O merry hae I been cloutin’ a ket… An’ kissin’ my Katie when a’ was… O a’ the lang day I ca’ at my ham…
A robe of seeming truth and trust Hid crafty Observation; And secret hung, with poison’d cru… The dirk of Defamation: A mask that like the gorget show’d…
HERE lies, now a prey to insulti… What once was a butterfly, gay in… Want only of wisdom denied her res… Want only of goodness denied her e…
BLYTHE hae I been on yon hill, As the lambs before me; Careless ilka thought and free, As the breeze flew o’er me; Now nae langer sport and play,
Yestreen I had a pint o’ wine, A place where body saw na; Yestreen lay on this breast o’ min… The gowden locks of Anna. The hungry Jew in wilderness