Rezultatele căutării

My Spouse Nancy

✕
'Husband, husband, cease your strife,
Nor longer idly rave, Sir

The Mauchline Wedding

✕
When Eighty-five was seven month auld,
And wearing thro the aught,
When rotting rains and Boreas bauld
Gied farmer-folks a faught

The Slave's Lament

✕
It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral,
For the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O:
Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more

Poor Mailie’s Elegy

✕
Lament in rhyme, lament in prose,
Wi’ saut tears trickling down your nose

On Glenriddell's Fox Breaking His Chain

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-- A Fragment --
 
Thou, Liberty, thou art my theme

Election Ballad

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At the close of the contest for representing the Dumfries Burghs, 1790. Addressed to R. Graham, Esq. of Fintry.
 
Fintry, my stay in wordly strife,
Friend o' my muse, friend o' my life,
Are ye as idle's I am?
Come then, wi' uncouth kintra fleg,
O'er Pegasus I'll fling my leg,
And ye shall see me try him.
 
But where shall I go rin a ride,
That I may splatter nane beside?
I wad na be uncivil:
In manhood's various paths and ways
There's aye some doytin' body strays,
And I ride like the devil.
 
Thus I break aff wi' a' my birr,
And down yon dark, deep alley spur,
Where Theologics daunder:
Alas! curst wi' eternal fogs,
And damn'd in everlasting bogs,
As sure's the creed I'll blunder!
 
I'll stain a band, or jaup a gown,
Or rin my reckless, guilty crown
Against the haly door:
Sair do I rue my luckless fate,
When, as the Muse an' Deil wad hae't,
I rade that road before.
 
Suppose I take a spurt, and mix
Amang the wilds o' Politics-
Electors and elected,
Where dogs at Court (sad sons of bitches!)
Septennially a madness touches,
Till all the land's infected.
 
All hail! Drumlanrig's haughty Grace,
Discarded remnant of a race
Once godlike-great in story

Ballads on Mr. Heron's Election, 1795

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Ballad First
 
Whom will you send to London town,
To Parliament and a' that?
Or wha in a' the country round
The best deserves to fa' that?
For a' that, and a' that,
Thro' Galloway and a' that,
Where is the Laird or belted Knight
The best deserves to fa' that?
 
Wha sees Kerroughtree's open yett,
(And wha is't never saw that?)
Wha ever wi' Kerroughtree met,
And has a doubt of a' that?
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
The independent patriot,
The honest man, and a' that.
 
Tho' wit and worth, in either sex,
Saint Mary's Isle can shaw that,
Wi' Dukes and Lords let Selkirk mix,
And weel does Selkirk fa' that.
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
The independent commoner
Shall be the man for a' that.
 
But why should we to Nobles jouk,
And is't against the law, that?
For why, a Lord may be a gowk,
Wi' ribband, star and a' that,
For a' that, and a' that,
Here's Heron yet for a' that!
A Lord may be a lousy loun,
Wi' ribband, star and a' that.
 
A beardless boy comes o'er the hills,
Wi' uncle's purse and a' that

O Leave Novels

✕
O leave novels, ye Mauchline belles,
Ye're safer at your spinning-wheel

Epigram To Miss Jean Scott

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O had each Scot of ancient times
Been, Jeanie Scott, as thou art

Epigrams On Lord Galloway

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What dost thou in that mansion fair?
Flit, Galloway, and find
Some narrow, dirty, dungeon cave,
The picture of thy mind.
 
No Stewart art thou, Galloway,
The Stewarts all were brave:
Besides, the Stewarts were but fools,
Not one of them a knave.
 
Bright ran thy line, O Galloway,
Thro' many a far-fam'd sire:
So ran the far-famed Roman way,
And ended in a mire.
 
Spare me thy vengeance, Galloway!
In quiet let me live:
I ask no kindness at thy hand,
For thou hast none to give.
 
(Written In 1793)
 

My Eppie Adair

✕
Chorus.
-An' O my Eppie, my jewel, my Eppie,
Wha wad na be happy wi' Eppie Adair?
 
By love, and by beauty, by law, and by duty,
I swear to be true to my Eppie Adair!
By love, and by beauty, by law, and by duty,
I swear to be true to my Eppie Adair!
And O my Eppie, &c.
 
A' pleasure exile me, dishonour defile me,
If e'er I beguile ye, my Eppie Adair!
A' pleasure exile me, dishonour defile me,
If e'er I beguile thee, my Eppie Adair!
And O my Eppie, &c.
 
(1789)
 

To Mary In Heaven

✕
Thou ling'ring star, with lessening ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn,
Again thou usher'st in the day
My Mary from my soul was torn.
O Mary! dear departed shade!
Where is thy place of blissful rest?
See'st thou thy lover lowly laid?
Hear'st thou the groans that rend his breast?
 
That sacred hour can I forget,
Can I forget the hallow'd grove,
Where, by the winding Ayr, we met,
To live one day of parting love!
Eternity will not efface
Those records dear of transports past,
Thy image at our last embrace,
Ah! little thought we 'twas our last!
 
Ayr, gurgling, kiss'd his pebbled shore,
O'erhung with wild-woods, thickening green

Farewell To Ballochmyle

✕
The Catrine woods were yellow seen,
The flowers decay'd on Catrine lee,
Nae lav'rock sang on hillock green,
But nature sicken'd on the e'e.
Thro' faded groves Maria sang,
Hersel' in beauty's bloom the while

I Love My Jean

✕
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west

Jamie, Come Try Me

✕
Chorus.-
Jamie, come try me,
Jamie, come try me,
If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come try me.
 
If thou should ask my love,
Could I deny thee?
If thou would win my love,
Jamie, come try me!
Jamie, come try me, &c.
 
If thou should kiss me, love,
Wha could espy thee?
If thou wad be my love,
Jamie, come try me!
Jamie, come try me, &c.
 
(1789)
 

Sweet Tibbie Dunbar

✕
O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car,
Or walk by my side, O sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
 
I care na thy daddie, his lands and his money,
I care na thy kin, sae high and sae lordly

The Birks Of Aberfeldy

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Bony lassie, will ye go,
Will ye go, will ye go

Farewell To Eliza

✕
From thee, Eliza, I must go,
And from my native shore

The White Cockade

✕
My love was born in Aberdeen,
The boniest lad that e'er was seen

Comin' Thro' the Rye

If a body meet a body
Comin' thro' the rye,
If a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry?
 
Ev'ry laddie has his lassie,
None they say have I,
Yet all the lassies smile on me
When comin' thro' the rye.
 
If a body meet a body
Comin' from the town,
If a body greet a body,
Need a body frown?
 
Ev'ry laddie has his lassie,
None they say have I,
Yet all the lassies smile on me
When comin' thro' the rye.
 
Among the train there is a swain
I dearly love myself,
but what's her name or where's her name,
I do not choose to tell.
 
Ev'ry laddie has his lassie,
None they say have I,
Yet all the lassies smile on me
When comin' thro' the rye.