#ScottishWriters
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.
THOU, Liberty, thou art my theme… Not such as idle poets dream, Who trick thee up a heathen goddes… That a fantastic cap and rod has; Such stale conceits are poor and s…
A Tale “Of Brownyis and of Bogillis full… Gawin Douglas. When chapman billies leave the str… And drouthy neibors neibors meet;
KNOW thou, O stranger to the fam… Of this much lov’d, much honoured… (For none that knew him need be to… A warmer heart death ne’er made co…
O THOU, in whom we live and move… Who made the sea and shore; Thy goodness constantly we prove, And grateful would adore; And, if it please Thee, Power abo…
AS Tam the chapman on a day, Wi’Death forgather’d by the way, Weel pleas’d, he greets a wight so… And Death was nae less pleas’d wi… Wha cheerfully lays down his pack,
AMONG the heathy hills and ragge… The roaring Fyers pours his mossy… Till full he dashes on the rocky m… Where, thro’ a shapeless breach, h… As high in air the bursting torren…
Here lies a mock Marquis, whose t… If ever he rise, it will be to be…
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,
There was three kings unto the eas… Three kings both great and high, And they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn should die. They took a plough and plough’d hi…
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…
LORD, we thank, and thee adore, For temporal gifts we little merit… At present we will ask no more— Let William Hislop give the spiri…
It was upon a Lammas night, When corn rigs are bonnie, Beneath the moon’s unclouded light… I held away to Annie: The time flew by wi’ tentless heed
“O cam ye here the fight to shun, Or herd the sheep wi’ me, man? Or were ye at the Sherra—moor, Or did the battle see, man?” “I saw the battle, sair and teugh
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,