#ScottishWriters
Go fetch to me a pint o wine, And fill it in a silver tassie; That I may drink, before I go, A service to my bonie lassie: The boat rocks at the Pier o’ Lei…
REVERED defender of beauteous… Of Stuart, a name once respected; A name, which to love was the mark… But now 'tis despis’d and neglecte… Tho’ something like moisture congl…
As I was a—wand’ring ae morning i… I heard a young ploughman sae swee… And as he was singin’, thir words… There’s nae life like the ploughma… The lav’rock in the morning she’ll…
SHREWD Willie Smellie to Croch… The old cock’d hat, the grey surto… His bristling beard just rising in… 'Twas four long nights and days to… His uncomb’d grizzly locks, wild s…
THOUGH fickle Fortune has decei… She pormis’d fair and perform’d bu… Of mistress, friends, and wealth b… Yet I bear a heart shall support… I’ll act with prudence as far 's…
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,
THERE 1 was a lad was born in K… But whatna day o’ whatna style, I doubt it’s hardly worth the whil… To be sae nice wi’ Robin. Chor.—Robin was a rovin’ boy,
A’ THE lads o’ Thorniebank, When they gae to the shore o’ Buc… They’ll step in an’ tak a pint Wi’ Lady Onlie, honest Lucky. Chorus.'Lady Onlie, honest Luc…
YE sons of old Killie, assembled… To follow the noble vocation; Your thrifty old mother has scarce… To sit in that honoured station. I’ve little to say, but only to pr…
O I’ve walked o’er yon countries… Among Airlin’s braw lasses I’ve h… Comin’ hame in the mornins, fin I… Fin I wis a plooboy on Airlin’s f… O the first thing I did, fin I ga…
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
HERE lies Boghead amang the dead In hopes to get salvation; But if such as he in Heav’n may b… Then welcome, hail! damnation.
ELLISLAND, 21st Oct., 1789.W… And are ye hale, and weel and cant… I ken’d it still, your wee bit jau… Wad bring ye to: Lord send you aye as weel’s I wan…
Ye banks and braes o’ bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fai… How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu’ o’ care! Thou’ll break my heart, thou warbl…
O MIRK, mirk is this midnight ho… And loud the tempest’s roar; A waefu’ wanderer seeks thy tower, Lord Gregory, ope thy door. An exile frae her father’s ha’,