Scotland’s Scaith, Or, The History O’ Will And Jean. Owre True A Tale. In Two Parts (Hector MacNeill Poems)
Wha was ance like Willie Gairlace, Wha in neeboring town or farm?Beauty's bloom shone in his fair face, Deadly strength was in ...
Wha was ance like Willie Gairlace, Wha in neeboring town or farm?Beauty's bloom shone in his fair face, Deadly strength was in ...
The pride o' the clachan, the rose o' the glen,The flower o' oor lasses was Mary Muiren;Sae modest, an' mensefu', ...
The days o' langsyne, O! the days o' langsyne,Sweet thochts o' the bygane, I never sall tyne;Tho' darklin' I sit ...
Dochter Peggy sat on the kiln, An' watch'd owre her faither's life,For he had been at Both'ell brig, An' joined in the ...
Dear sober emptyers o' the glass!Behold your goddess -- wife or lass, De'il hae me gin I ken;But weel I wat ...
lock-innight timei am aloneearphoneshang unusedstack of unreadcentury-old bookscover the table&the cigarettescut in two caston the surfaceresemble the freckleson a white-boy's ...
Wi' a blush, an' a glint o' true luve frae her e'e,Her bonnie white haunie, sae saft an' sae wee,A' ...
It fell about the Martinmas tyde,When our Border steeds get corn and hayThe captain of Bewcastle hath bound him to ...
Dear Jock, - Like some aul' cairter's mear I'm foonert i' the feet,An' oxter-staffs are feckless things fan a' the ...
Frae the schulehoose that sat at the heid o' the green,To the fit o' the toon where the smiddy was ...
Saturday Night.Noo, ye'll no' tak' it ill o' me, Mistress Macqueen,For ye ken ye are juist a young kimmer,An' I ...
He's a muckle man, Sandy, he's mair nor sax fitA size that's no' handy for wark i' the pit,But frae ...
Not blues in twelve but there is joy and pink champagne, the maker's music trading eights in syncopated synergy from ...
He dug what she said: bright jellies, smooth marmalade spread on warm brown bread. "Jazz" from drowsy lips orchids lift ...
You are so beautiful and I am a fool to be in love with you is a theme that keeps ...
A GUID New-year I wish thee, Maggie! Hae, there's a ripp to thy auld baggie: Tho' thou's howe-backit now, an' ...
Chorus-O gude ale comes and gude ale goes; Gude ale gars me sell my hose, Sell my hose, and pawn ...
SOME books are lies frae end to end, And some great lies were never penn'd: Ev'n ministers they hae been ...
A monosyllabic European called Sax Invents a horn, walla whirledy wah, a kind of twisted Brazen clarinet, but with its ...
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