#Scots #XVIIICentury
When by a generous Public’s kind… That dearest meed is granted—hones… When here your favour is the actor… Nor even the man in private life f… What breast so dead to heav’nly V…
There lived a carl in Kellyburn B… Hey and the rue grows bonie wi’ th… And he had a wife was the plague o… And the thyme it is wither’d and r… [And he had a wife was the plague…
OF a’ the airts the wind can blaw… I dearly like the west, For there the bonnie lassie lives, The lassie I lo’e best: There wild woods grow, and rivers…
O THOU whom Poetry abhors, Whom Prose has turnèd out of door… Heard’st thou yon groan?—proceed n… ’Twas laurel’d Martial calling mu…
THERE was a lass, and she was fa… At kirk or market to be seen; When a’ our fairest maids were met… The fairest maid was bonie Jean. And aye she wrought her mammie’s w…
LORD ADVOCATEHE clenched hi… He quoted and he hinted, Till, in a declamation-mist, His argument he tint it: He gapèd for’t, he grapèd for’t,
I GAT your letter, winsome Willi… Wi’ gratefu’ heart I thank you br… Tho’ I maun say’t, I wad be silly… And unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin billi…
Wee Willie Gray, and his leather… Peel a willow wand to be him boots… The rose upon the breir will be hi… The rose upon the breir will be hi… Wee Willie Gray, and his leather…
SENSIBILITY, how charming, Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell; But distress, with horrors arming, Thou alas! hast known too well! Fairest flower, behold the lily
1 Is there, for honest poverty… 2 That hings his head, an’… 3 The coward slave, we pass hi… 4 We dare be poor for a’ t… 5 For a’ that, an’ a’…
Guid—Mornin’ to our Majesty! May Heaven augment your blisses On ev’ry new birth—day ye see, A humble poet wishes. My bardship here, at your Levee
Ye banks and braes o’ bonie Doon, How can ye bloom sae fresh and fai… How can ye chant, ye little birds, And I sae weary fu’ o’ care! Thou’ll break my heart, thou warbl…
Now simmer blinks on flow’ry braes… And o’er the crystal streamlet pla… Come, let us spend the lightsome d… In the birks of Aberfeldie! Bonnie lassie, will ye go,
Willie Wastle dwalls on Tweed, The spot they ca’ it Linkumdoddie… A creeshie wabster till his trade, Can steal a clue wi’ ony body: He has a wife that’s dour and din,
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,
