The Brus Book XIV (John Barbour Poems)
The erle off Carrik Schyr Edward,That stoutar wes than a libardAnd had na will to be ...
The erle off Carrik Schyr Edward,That stoutar wes than a libardAnd had na will to be ...
She was wearin' awa'! she was wearin' awa'!Wi' the leaves in October, we thocht she wad fa',For her cheek was ...
Aul' Sheepieknowe! how dear the name! Lane birthplace o' my gude forbears;Scene o' their life-lang cares an' toils, Their sunny joys an' ...
Beside the winter e'ening fire, A gleg wee lass o' towmonds ten,Sat nestlin' close to Grannie's knee, Upon the cozie clean fire-en'.The ...
Aifter the war, says the papers, they'll no be content at hame,The lads that hae feucht wi' death twae 'ear ...
O whaur hae ye been, my bonnie, bonnie bairns, Sae lang awa' frae me?Come in, come in, for I'm weary ...
Daft Ailie cam' in by the auld brig-en' As the sunlicht, saft an' sweet,Fell doon on the laigh, white wa's ...
Come in, gudeman, to your ain fireside, There's a cauld, cauld grup in the air,An' the win' blaws snell frae ...
A fiddler sits, wha has never been seen, On the ledgin' o' Boglebriggs;An' aye when the clock strikes the midnicht ...
He's a deil o' a wean—what ava can he mean?Lod, he'll ow'r-gang us a' yet, an' that'll be seen;Here's his ...
I ken'd Maggie weel ere she grew to a wife,An' smiled in the sunshine o' a' its sweet life;But, wae's ...
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 ...
Her faither says aften fu' plainly to me,'The wean, woman, 's juist like oor neebors, we see,An' naething ava to ...
Up cam the tide wi' a burst and a whush,And back gaed the stanes wi' a whurr;The king's son walkit ...
Bauld Robin Ford, frae Glasgow toon, Cam' here an' spent a nicht wi' me;An' wow, he is an unco chield, ...
The king sits in Dumferling toune, Drinking the blude-reid wine: "O whar will I get ...
The deil's in that bit bairn o' mine, for every noo and thanHe gies me siccan frichts, that whiles for ...
Three score o' nobles rade up the King's ha'But bonnie Glenogie's the flow'r o' them a'Wi' his milk-white steed and ...
Wee tottie's the smile that lichts up oor hearthstane—A dumpy bit thing that can scarce gang her lane;Yet what aul'-farrant ...
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