#Scots #BalladesYRhymes
Of all Gods Death alone Disdaineth sacrifice: No man hath found or shown The gift that Death would prize. In vain are songs or sighs,
Marie Hamilton’s to the kirk gane… Wi ribbons in her hair; The king thought mair o Marie Ham… Than ony that were there. Marie Hamilton’s to the kirk gane…
‘Annan water’s wading deep, And my love Annie’s wondrous bonn… And I am laith she suld weet her… Because I love her best of ony. ‘Gar saddle me the bonny black,—
There’s a joy without canker or ca… There’s a pleasure eternally new, ’Tis to gloat on the glaze and the… Of china that’s ancient and blue; Unchipp’d all the centuries throug…
Whan he cam to his ain luve’s boui… He tirled at the pin, And sae ready was his fair fause l… To rise and let him in. ‘O welcome, welcome, Sir Roland,’…
Clerk Saunders and may Margaret Walked ower yon garden green; And sad and heavy was the love That fell thir twa between. ‘A bed, a bed,’ Clerk Saunders sa…
O I forbid you, maidens a’, That wear gowd on your hair, To come or gae by Carterhaugh, For young Tam Lin is there. There’s nane that gaes by Carterh…
I have scribbled in verse and in p… I have painted “arrangements in gr… And my name is familiar to those Who take in the high class magazin… I compose; I’ve invented machines…
“What did the dark-haired Iberian… Aryan drove him into the corners o… I am an ancient Jest! Palæolithic man In his arboreal nest
Your hair and chin are like the ha… And chin Burne-Jones’s ladies wea… You were unfashionably fair In '83; And sad you were when girls are ga…
The sacred keep of Ilion is rent By shaft and pit; foiled waters wa… Through plains where Simois and S… To war with Gods and heroes long… Not yet to tired Cassandra, lying…
AH! leave the smoke, the wealth,… Of London, leave the bustling str… For still, by the Sicilian shore, The murmur of the Muse is sweet. Still, still, the suns of summer g…
O have ye na heard o the fause Sa… O have ye na heard o the keen Lor… How they hae taen bauld Kinmont W… On Hairibee to hang him up? Had Willie had but twenty men,
The winter is upon us, not the sno… The hills are etched on the horizo… The skies are iron grey, a bitter… The meagre cloudlets shudder to an… One yellow leaf the listless wind…
Between the moonlight and the fire In winter twilights long ago, What ghosts we raised for your des… To make your merry blood run slow! How old, how grave, how wise we gr…