#Scots #XVIIICentury
O, wilt thou go wi’ me, Sweet Tibbie Dunbar? O, wilt thou go wi’ me, Sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Wilt thou ride on a horse,
O my Luve is like a red, red rose That’s newly sprung in June; O my Luve is like the melody That’s sweetly played in tune. So fair art thou, my bonnie lass,
Is there a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot fo… Owre blate to seek, owre proud to… Let him draw near; And owre this grassy heap sing doo…
Chorus.'MY lady’s gown, there’s… And gowden flowers sae rare upon’t… But Jenny’s jimps and jirkinet, My lord thinks meikle mair upon’t. My lord a-hunting he is gone,
On Seeing One on a Lady’s Bonnet… Ha! whare ye gaun’ ye crowlin ferl… Your impudence protects you sairly… I canna say but ye strunt rarely Owre gauze and lace,
O Thou, the first, the greatest f… Of all the human race! Whose strong right hand has ever b… Their stay and dwelling place! Before the mountains heav’d their…
Now westlin winds and slaught’ring… Bring Autumn’s pleasant weather; The moorcock springs on whirring w… Amang the blooming heather: Now waving grain, wide o’er the pl…
THE NIGHT was still, and o’er… The moon shone on the castle wa’; The mavis sang, while dew-drops ha… Around her on the castle wa’; Sae merrily they danced the ring
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,
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.
CEASE, ye prudes, your envious r… Lovely Burns has charms’confess… True it is, she had one failing, Had a woman ever less?
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…
Guid—Mornin’ to our Majesty! May Heaven augment your blisses On ev’ry new birth—day ye see, A humble poet wishes. My bardship here, at your Levee
A Song of Similes Tune —‘If he be a Butcher neat an… On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells… Could I describe her shape and me… Our lasses a’ she far excels,
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?
