SAYS Tweed to Till— ‘What gars ye rin sae still?’ Says Till to Tweed— ‘Though ye rin with speed And I rin slaw,
God, that art of myghtis most, Fader and Sone and Holy Gost, That bought man on Rode so dere, Shilde us from the fowle fende, That is about mannys sowle to shen…
Westron wind, when wilt thou blow That small rain down can rain? Christ, that my love were in my ar… And I in my bed again!
When you startle awake in the dark… heart pounding breathing fast sitting bolt upright staring into dark whirlpool black hole feeling its suction
Legs I have got, yet seldom do I… I backbite many, yet I never talk… In secret places most I seek to h… For he who feeds me never can abid…
AS ye came from the holy land Of Walsinghame, Met you not with my true love By the way as you came? How should I know your true love,
I WISH I were where Helen lies, Night and day on me she cries; O that I were where Helen lies, On fair Kirconnell lea! Curst be the heart that thought th…
She’ll be comin’ round the mountai… When she comes. She’ll be comin’ round the mountai… When she comes. She’ll be comin’ round the mountai…
THIS winter’s weather it waxeth… And frost it freezeth on every… And Boreas blows his blast so bol… That all our cattle are like to… Bell, my wife, she loves no strife…
O waly waly up the bank, And waly waly down the brae, And waly waly yon burn-side Where I and my Love wont to gae! I leant my back unto an aik,
There is a Miracle called Friends… that dwells within the heart and you don’t know how it happens or when it even starts. But the happiness it brings you
SINCE first I saw your face I r… If now I be disdained I wish my h… What? I that loved and you that l… No, no, no, my heart is fast, and… If I admire or praise you too muc…
The falcon soars The town’s gates are even higher Angelica’s their doorkeeper She’s wound the sun round her head She’s tied the moon round her wais…
The king sits in Dumferling toune… Drinking the blude-reid wine: “O whar will I get guid sailor, To sail this schip of mine?” Up and spak an eldern knicht,
‘O WHA will shoe my bonny foot? And wha will glove my hand? And wha will bind my middle jimp Wi’ a lang, lang linen band? ‘O wha will kame my yellow hair,
