#ScottishWriters
There’s nane that’s blest of human… But the cheerful and the gay, man. Here’s a bottle and an honest frie… What wad ye wish for mair, man? Wha kens, before his life may end,
O how shall I, unskilfu’, try The Poet’s occupation? The tunefu’ powers, in happy hours… That whisper, inspiration, Even they maun dare an effort mair
OF Lordly acquaintance you boast, And the Dukes that you dined wi’… Yet an insect’s an insect at most, Tho’ it crawl on the curl of a Qu…
The Couper o’ Cuddy came here awa… He ca’d the girrs out o’er us a’; An’ our gudewife has gotten a ca’, That’s anger’d the silly gudeman… We’ll hide the Couper behint the…
FOR thee is laughing Nature gay, For thee she pours the vernal day; For me in vain is Nature drest, While Joy’s a stranger to my brea…
Yestreen I had a pint o’ wine, A place where body saw na; Yestreen lay on this breast o’ min… The gowden locks of Anna. The hungry Jew in wilderness
Tune —“Laggan Burn.” Here’s to thy health, my bonie las… Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee; I’ll come nae mair to thy bower—do… To tell thee that I lo’e thee.
Again rejoicing nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues, Her leafy looks wave in the breeze… All freshly steep’d in morning dew… And maun I still on Menie doat,
THE lovely lass o’ Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e’en and morn she cries, ‘Ala… And aye the saut tear blin’s her e… 'Drumossie moor, Drumossie day,
CEASE, ye prudes, your envious r… Lovely Burns has charms’confess… True it is, she had one failing, Had a woman ever less?
A robe of seeming truth and trust Hid crafty Observation; And secret hung, with poison’d cru… The dirk of Defamation: A mask that like the gorget show’d…
HERE lies, now a prey to insulti… What once was a butterfly, gay in… Want only of wisdom denied her res… Want only of goodness denied her e…
HERE cursing, swearing Burton li… A buck, a beau, or “Dem my eyes!” Who in his life did little good, And his last words were “Dem my b…
Sleep’st thou, or wak’st thou, fai… Rosy morn now lifts his eye, Numbering ilka bud which Nature Waters wi’ the tears o’ joy. Now, to the streaming fountain,
The heather was blooming, the mead… Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at… O’er moors and o’er mosses and mon… At length they discover’d a bonie… Chorus.-I rede you, beware at the…