Halloween (George MacDonald Poems)
Sweep up the flure, Janet;Put on anither peat.It's a lown and a starry nicht, Janet,And nowther cauld nor weet.It's the ...
Sweep up the flure, Janet;Put on anither peat.It's a lown and a starry nicht, Janet,And nowther cauld nor weet.It's the ...
As I was walkin on the strand,I spied ane auld man sitOn ane auld black rock; and aye the wavesCam ...
The simmer day was sweet an' lang, It had nae thocht o' sorrow,As my true love and I stood on ...
As Phebus bricht in speir merediane,E of the warld, and lamp Etheriall,Passis the licht that cleipit is Dyane,Quhen scho is ...
The king sits in Dumferling toune, Drinking the blude-reid wine: "O whar will I get ...
O lassie ayont the hill,Come ower the tap o' the hill,Come ower the tap wi' the breeze o' the hill,Bidena ...
lie an' look doon on the clachan, This best o' a' simmer days,An' doon by the side o' the burnie ...
I sit afore a half-oot fire, An' I am a' my lane,Nae frien' or fremit daun'ers in, For a' my ...
I."Bonny lassie, rosy lassie,Ken ye what is care?Had ye ever a thought, lassie,Made yer hertie sair?"Johnnie said it, Johnnie seekinSicht ...
What gars ye sing, said the herd-laddie,"What gars ye sing sae lood?""To tice them oot o' the yerd, laddie,The worms ...
"MY heart is high above, my body is full of bliss, For I am set in luve as well as ...
The deid sleep soun' in the auld kirkyaird, At the fit o' the hills sae steep;They dream sweet dreams aneath ...
The water ran doon frae the heich hope-heid,Wi' a Rin, burnie, rin;It wimpled, an' waggled, an' sang a screedO' nonsense, ...
Cauld blew the blast frae East to Wast,A blast wi' a smirr o' snaw,An' it took the doctor's guid lum ...
I dinna ken what's come ower me!There's a how whaur ance was a hert!I never luik oot afore me,An' a ...
It is naething but a lilt, Yet its rinnin' in my heid;Just a lilt, an' that is a', O' an ...
RORATE coeli desuper! Hevins, distil your balmy schouris! For now is risen the bricht day-ster, Fro the rose Mary, flour ...
You may talk o' your lutes and your dulcimers fine, Your harps and your tabors and cymbals and a', But ...
"Hae ye heard whit ma auld mither's postit tae me? It fair maks me hamesick," says Private McPhee. "And whit ...
Says Bauldy MacGreegor frae Gleska tae Hecky MacCrimmon frae Skye: "That's whit I hate maist aboot fechtin' -- it makes ...
OUR Johnie's deid. The mair's the pity! He's deid, an' deid o' Aqua-vitae. O Embro', you're a shrunken city, Noo ...
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