#Scots
Proud Maisie is in the wood, Walking so early; Sweet Robin sits on the bush, Singing so rarely. ‘Tell me, thou bonny bird,
Bring the bowl which you boast, Fill it up to the brim; ’Tis to him we love most, And to all who love him. Brave gallants, stand up,
‘Why sit’st thou by that ruin’d ha… Thou aged carle so stern and grey? Dost thou its former pride recall, Or ponder how it pass’d away?'- ‘Know’st thou not me?' the Deep V…
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…
Red glows the forge in Striguil’s… And hammers din, and anvil sounds, And armourers, with iron toil, Barb many a steed for battle’s bro… Foul fall the hand which bends the…
Look not thou on beauty’s charming… Sit thou still when kings are armi… Taste not when the wine-cup gliste… Speak not when the people listens; Stop thine ear against the singer;
Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and… As in that well - remember’d night When first thy mystic braid was wo… And first my Agnes whisper’d love… Since then how often hast thou pre…
The Wildgrave winds his bugle-hor… To horse, to horse! halloo, halloo… His fiery courser snuffs the morn, And thronging serfs their lord pur… The eager pack, from couples freed…
Sound, sound the clarion, fill the… To all the sensual world proclaim, One crowded hour of glorious life Is worth an age without a name.
Knight And Wamba There came three merry men from so… Ever more sing the roundelay; To win the Widow of Wycombe forth… And where was the widow might say…
As lords their labourers’ hire del… Fate quits our toil with hopes to… Which, if far short of present pay… Still, owns a debt and names a sum… Quit not the pledge, frail suffere…
’Twas when among our linden-trees The bees had housed in swarms, (And grey-hair’d peasants say that… Betoken foreign arms), Then look’d we down to Willisow,
From a rude isle, his ruder lineag… The spark, that, from a suburb hov… Ascending, wraps some capital in f… Hath not a meaner or more sordid b… And for the soul that bade him was…
From heavy dreams fair Helen rose… And eyed the dawning red: ‘Alas, my love, thou tarriest long… O art thou false or dead?’- II.
When Israel, of the Lord beloved, Out from the land of bondage came, Her father’s God before her moved… An awful Guide, in smoke and flam… By day, along the astonished lands