#Scots
A traveller on a dusty road Strewed acorns on the lea; And one took root and sprouted up, And grew into a tree. Love sought its shade at evening-t…
I knew thee in the sunny hour, When Fortune shed her brightest b… And thought, should e’er the tempe… Thy love would wither like a dream… I deemed that it was feigned and c…
’Tis sweet at morn among the corn, When air and earth are jolly, But sweeter far, at evening’s star… Among the woods of holly. The morn, though fair, is tinged w…
Tis sweet to roam alone In some sequestered wood, When slumbering Echo hears no sou… When Night and Silence spread aro… A holy solitude;
When tke sentinel mastiff keepeth… And all is dark in the farmer’s ya… Ere the early cock hath begun to c… Abroad with the owl and the bat we… Thirst is mighty-hunger is strong
‘Where is the place of their first… ’Where, oh where, is that green ba… ‘Under whose cover ’The maid and her lover ‘Plighted their troth and their co…
She said she’d come at evening’s f… By yon streamlet gently rolling, When darkness dim was spread o’er… And the vesper bell was tolling; But long that bell hath ceased its…
Wind of the winter night, whence c… And whither, oh whither, art wande… Sad, sad is thy voice on this deso… And mournful, oh mournful, thy how… Say where hast thou been on thy cl…
O! Father, hear! Thou know’st my secret thought, Thou know’st with love and fear I bend before Thy mighty throne, And before Thee I hold myself as…
At sunset a maid was roaming Alone by the banks of Rhine, Whose stream to the dark sea foami… Was bright in the red sunshine: And she wept in bitter sorrow,
Hurrah! for the land of the thistl… The clime of the fair and free! Where the lassies are bonnie And loving as ony, The pride of the North Countrie!
Soldier of Poland! wherefore sigh… Freedom, though crushed, shall nev… Though for awhile her noble head Be trampled by the Cossack’s trea… Though the proud Russian lay her…
When the tempests fly O’er the cloudy sky, And the piping blast sings wearily… O! sweet is the mirth Of the social hearth,
Many-and yet our fate is one, And little after all we crave Enjoyment of the common sun, Fair passage to the common grave; Our bread and fire, our plain atti…
Tis sad to go a-roving Through the weary world alone, For the bliss of life is loving, Ere the days of youth are flown And old age is Love’s undoing,
