#Scots #XVIIICentury
‘And send the godly in a pet to pr… O Thou, that in the heavens does… Wha, as it pleases best Thysel’, Sends ane to heaven an’ ten to hel… A’ for Thy glory,
THE GLOOMY night is gath’ring… Loud roars the wild, inconstant bl… Yon murky cloud is foul with rain, I see it driving o’er the plain; The hunter now has left the moor.
THERE was a wife wonn’d in Cock… Scroggam; She brew’d gude ale for gentlemen; Sing auld Cowl lay ye down by me, Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum.
My curse upon your venom’d stang, That shoots my tortur’d gums alang… And thro’ my lugs gies mony a twan… Wi’ gnawing vengeance; Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang,
O that I had ne’er been married, I wad never had nae care, Now I’ve gotten wife an’ weans, An’ they cry “ Crowdie ” evermair… Chorus:
My mither sent me tae the moss For to gaither peats and dross. I cowpit the cairt and hanged the… An whistle ow’r the lave o’t. My mither sent me tae the well
How can my poor heart be glad, When absent from my Sailor lad; How can I the thought forego, He’s on the seas to meet the foe: Let me wander, let me rove,
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…
O HAD each Scot of ancient times Been, Jeanie Scott, as thou art; The bravest heart on English grou… Had yielded like a coward.
FORLORN, my Love, no comfort n… Far, far from thee, I wander here… Far, far from thee, the fate sever… At which I most repine, Love. Chorus.—O wert thou, Love, but ne…
My heart is a—breaking, dear Titt… Some counsel unto me come len’; To anger them a’ is a pity, But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen? I’m thinking, wi’ sic a braw fello…
WHAT needs this din about the to… How this new play an’ that new san… Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle… Does nonsense mend, like brandy, w… Is there nae poet, burning keen fo…
THE LAMP of day, with-ill presa… Dim, cloudy, sank beneath the west… Th’ inconstant blast howl’d thro’… And hollow whistled in the rocky c… Lone as I wander’d by each cliff…
Wae is my heart, and the tear’s in… Lang lang Joy’s been a stranger t… Forsaken and friendless, my burden… And the sweet voice o’ Pity ne’er… Love thou hast pleasures, and deep…
John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John,