#ScottishWriters
I dream’d I lay where flowers wer… Gaily in the sunny beam; List’ning to the wild birds singin… By a falling crystal stream: Straight the sky grew black and da…
PEG NICHOLSON was a good bay… As ever trod on airn; But now she’s floating down the N… And past the mouth o’ Cairn. Peg Nicholson was a good bay mare…
Farewell, ye dungeons dark and str… The wretch’s destinie! M’Pherson’s time will not be long On yonder gallows—tree. Chorus:
OH, open the door, some pity to s… Oh, open the door to me, oh, Tho’ thou hast been false, I’ll e… Oh, open the door to me, oh. Cauld is the blast upon my pale ch…
O aye my wife she dang me, An’ aft my wife she bang’d me, If ye gie a woman a’ her will, Gude faith she’ll soon o’ergang ye… On peace and rest my mind was bent…
O Thou Great Being! what Thou ar… Surpasses me to know; Yet sure I am, that known to Thee Are all Thy works below. Thy creature here before Thee sta…
Here lies a mock Marquis, whose t… If ever he rise, it will be to be…
Thou’s welcome, wean; mishanter fa… If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy ma… Shall ever daunton me or awe me, My bonie lady, Or if I blush when thou shalt ca’…
“PRAISE Woman still,” his lords… “Deserv’d or not, no matter?” But thee, whom all my soul adores, Ev’n Flattery cannot flatter: Maria, all my thought and dream,
THE BLUDE-RED rose at Yule m… The simmer lilies bloom in snaw, The frost may freeze the deepest s… But an auld man shall never daunto… Refrain.—To daunton me, to daunto…
GO fetch to me a pint o’ wine, An’ fill it in a silver tassie, That I may drink, before I go, A service to my bonnie lassie. The boat rocks at the pier o’ Lei…
Here’s a health to them that’s awa… Here’s a health to them that’s awa And wha winna wish guid luck to ou… May never guid luck be their fa’! It’s guid to be merry and wise,
Fair fa’ your honest, sonsie face, Great chieftain o’ the puddin—race… Aboon them a’ ye tak your place, Painch, tripe, or thairm: Weel are ye wordy of a grace
Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad! Whare hae ye been sae brankie O? Whare hae ye been sae braw, lad? Cam ye by Killiecrankie O? An ye had been whare I hae been,
OLD Winter, with his frosty bear… Thus once to Jove his prayer pref… “What have I done of all the year… To bear this hated doom severe? My cheerless suns no pleasure know…