#Scots
“Have, then, thy wish!”—he whistle… And he was answer’d from the hill; Wild as the scream of the curlew, From crag to crag the signal flew. Instant, through copse and heath,
On fair Loch-Ranza stream’d the e… Thin wreaths of cottage-smoke are… From the lone hamlet, which her in… And circling mountains sever from… And there the fisherman his sail u…
The rose is fairest when ‘t is bud… And hope is brightest when it dawn… The rose is sweetest washed with m… And love is loveliest when embalme… O wilding rose, whom fancy thus en…
Breathes there the man, with soul… Who never to himself hath said, This is my own, my native land! Whose heart hath ne’er within him… As home his footsteps he hath turn…
Farewell, merry maidens, to song,… For the brave lads of Westra are… And we must have labour, and hunge… Ere we dance with the maids of Du… For now, in our trim boats of Nor…
O listen, listen, ladies gay! No haughty feat of arms I tell; Soft is the note, and sad the lay That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. ‘Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant…
Harp of the North, farewell! The… On purple peaks a deeper shade des… In twilight copse the glow-worm li… The deer, half-seen, are to the co… Resume thy wizard elm! the fountai…
Wasted, weary, wherefore stay, Wrestling thus with earth and clay… From the body pass away;- Hark! the mass is singing. From thee doff thy mortal weed,
Soft spread the southern sumer nig… Her veil of darksome blue; Ten thousand stars combined to lig… The terrace of Saint Cloud. The evening breezes gently sigh’d,
The sun is rising dimly red, The wind is wailing low and dread; From his cliff the eagle sallies, Leaves the wolf his darksome valle… In the mist the ravens hover,
Take these flowers which, purple w… On the ruin’d rampart grew, Where, the sons of freedom braving… Rome’s imperial standards flew. Warriors from the breach of danger
weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine! To pull the thorn thy brow to brai… And press the rue for wine. A lightsome eye, a soldier’s mien,
Twist ye, twine ye! even so, Mingle shades of joy and woe, Hope, and fear, and peace, and str… In the thread of human life. While the mystic twist is spinning…
The Abbot on the threshold stood, And in his hand the holy rood: Then, cloaking hate with fiery zea… Proud Lorn first answered the app… ‘Thou comest, O holy man,
Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh, The sun has left the lea, The orange flower perfumes the bow… The breeze is on the sea. The lark his lay who thrill’d all…
