#Scots
Come, dear Amanda, quit the town, And to the rural hamlets fly; Behold! the wintry storms are gone… A gentle radiance glads the sky. The birds awake, the flowers appea…
Madam, the flower that I received… Ere I came home, had lost its lov… As flowers deprived of the genial… Its sprightly bloom did wither and… Dear, fading flower, I know full…
Warm’d by the summer sun’s meridia… As underneath a spreading oak I l… Contemplating the mighty load of w… In search of bliss that mortals un… Who, while they think they happine…
Our bard, to modern epilogue a foe… Thinks such mean mirth but deadens… Dispels in idle air the moral sigh… And wipes the tender tear from Pi… No more with social warmth the bos…
The dreadful hour with leaden pace… Lashed fiercely on by unrelenting… When Lisy and her bosom Cat must… For now to school and pensive need… She’s banished from her childhood’…
Soon as the morning trembles o’er… And unperceived, unfolds the sprea… Before the ripen’d field the reape… In fair array. At once they stoop and swell the l…
Shall the great soul of Newton qu… To mingle with his stars; and ever… Astonish’d into silence, shun the… Of honours due to his illustrious… But what can man?—Even now the so…
Hail, mildly pleasing solitude, Companion of the wise and good; But, from whose holy, piercing eye… The herd of fools, and villains fl… Oh! how I love with thee to walk,
Sweet, sleeky Doctor! dear pacifi… Lay at the beef, and suck the vita… Still let the involving smoke arou… And broad-looked dulness settle in… Ah! soft in down these dainty limb…
Ethereal race, inhabitants of air, Who hymn your god amid the secret… Ye unseen beings, to my harp repai… And raise majestic strains, or mel… Those tender notes, how kindly the…
Go, little book, and find our Fri… Who Nature and the Muses loves, Who cares the public virtues blend With all the softness of the grove… A fitter time thou canst not choos…
When from the opening chambers of… The morning springs, in thousand l… The early larks their morning trib… And, in shrill notes, salute the b… Refreshed fields with pearly dew d…
* Sweet Ravelrig, I ne’er could par… From thee, but wi’ a dowie heart. When I think on the happy days I spent in youth about your braes,
Sweet valley, say, where, pensive… For me, our children, England, si… The best of mortals leans his head… Ye fountains, dimpled by my sorrow… Ye brooks that my complainings bor…
As thus the snows arise; and foul… All winter drives along the darken… In his own loose-revolving fields,… Disaster’d stands; sees other hill… Of unknown joyless brow; and other…