#Scots #BalladesYRhymes
There are laddies will drive ye a… To the burn frae the farthermost t… But ye mauna think driving is a’, Ye may heel her, and send her ajee… Ye may land in the sand or the sea…
There liv’d twa sisters in a bower… Hey Edinbruch, how Edinbruch. There liv’d twa sisters in a bower… Stirling for aye: The youngest o’ them, O, she was…
Friend, when you bear a care-dulle… And brow perplexed with things of… And fain would bid some charm unti… The bonds that hold you all too st… Behold a solace to your fate,
AS one that for a weary space has… Lull’d by the song of Circe and h… In gardens near the pale of Prose… Where that Aeaean isle forgets th… And only the low lutes of love com…
‘It’s narrow, narrow, make your be… And learn to lie your lane: For I’m ga’n oer the sea, Fair A… A braw bride to bring hame. Wi her I will get gowd and gear;
Not Jason nor Medea wise, I crave to see, nor win much lore, Nor list to Orpheus’ minstrelsies… Nor Her’cles would I see, that o’… The wide world roamed from shore t…
In London city was Bicham born, He longd strange countries for to… But he was taen by a savage Moor, Who handld him right cruely. For thro his shoulder he put a bor…
This morning I vowed I would brin… They were thrust in the band that… But the breast-knots were broken,… The breast-knots were broken; the… Floated forth on the wings of the…
Your hair and chin are like the ha… And chin Burne-Jones’s ladies wea… You were unfashionably fair In '83; And sad you were when girls are ga…
Far in the Past I peer, and see A Child upon the Nursery floor, A Child with books upon his knee, Who asks, like Oliver, for more! The number of his years is IV,
Ah lady, lady, leave the creeping… And leave the iron castle by the s… Nay, from the sea there came a gho… My lips, and so I cannot come to… Ah lady, leave the cruel landward…
The call of homing rooks, the shri… Song of some bird that watches lat… The cries of children break the st… Sad twilight by the churchyard gat… And o’er your far-off tomb the gre…
Let others praise analysis And revel in a “cultured” style, And follow the subjective Miss From Boston to the banks of Nile, Rejoice in anti-British bile,
“‘Dead and gone,’—a sorry burden o… Say, fair maids, maying In gardens green, In deep dells straying, What end hath been
In the Aves of Aristophanes, the Bird Chorus declare that they are older than the Gods, and greater benefactors of men. This idea recurs in almost all savage mythologies, and I have ma...