#ScottishWriters
Sweet are the banks– the banks o’… The spreading flowers are fair, And everything is blythe and glad, But I am fu’ o’ care. Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie…
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…
WHAT dost thou in that mansion f… Flit, Galloway, and find Some narrow, dirty, dungeon cave, The picture of thy mind. ———No Stewart art thou, Galloway,
O, whistle an’ I’ll come to ye, m… O, whistle an’ I’ll come to ye, m… Tho’ father an’ mother an’ a’ shou… O, whistle an’ I’ll come to ye, m… But warily tent when ye come to co…
Lament in rhyme, lament in prose, Wi’ saut tears tricklin down your… Our bardie’s fate is at a close, Past a’ remead! The last, sad cape—stane o’ his wo…
NOW Nature hangs her mantle gree… On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o’ daisies… Out o’er the grassy lea; Now Phoebus cheers the crystal st…
Expect na, sir, in this narration, A fleechin, fleth’rin Dedication, To roose you up, an’ ca’ you guid, An’ sprung o’ great an’ noble blui… Because ye’re surnam’d like His G…
Altho’ he has left me for greed o’… I dinna envy him the gains he can… I rather wad bear a’ the lade o’ m… Than ever hae acted sae faithless…
FLOW gently, sweet Afton! amang… Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a son… My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring… Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb… Thou stockdove whose echo resounds…
ONE night as I did wander, When corn begins to shoot, I sat me down to ponder Upon an auld tree root; Auld Ayr ran by before me,
It was in sweet Senegal that my f… For the lands of Virginia—ginia O… Torn from that lovely shore, and m… And alas! I am weary, weary O! Torn from &c.
WHY am I loth to leave this eart… Have I so found it full of pleasi… Some drops of joy with draughts of… Some gleams of sunshine 'mid renew… Is it departing pangs my soul alar…
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…
Where Cart rins rowin to the sea, By mony a flower and spreading tre… There lives a lad, the lad for me, He is a gallant Weaver. Oh I had wooers aught or nine,
THOU, who thy honour as thy God… Who, save thy mind’s reproach, nou… To thee this votive offering I im… The tearful tribute of a broken he… The Friend thou valued’st, I, the…
