A Jacobite’s Exile (Algernon Charles Swinburne Poems)
The weary day runs down and dies,The weary night wears through:And never an hour is fair wi' flower,And never a ...
The weary day runs down and dies,The weary night wears through:And never an hour is fair wi' flower,And never a ...
Nae mair, alas! nae mair I'll see Young mornin's gowden hairSpread ower the lift—the dawnin' sheen O' simmer mornin' fair!Nae mair the ...
Na, na, I wunna pairt wi' that, I downa gi'e it up;O' Scotlan's hamely mither tongue I canna quat the grup.It's 'bedded ...
I tell a tale o' burnin' love, A love they seldom tineWha ance ha'e nursed it in their hearts: It's no a ...
It fell about the Martinmas tyde,When our Border steeds get corn and hayThe captain of Bewcastle hath bound him to ...
Daft Ailie cam' in by the auld brig-en' As the sunlicht, saft an' sweet,Fell doon on the laigh, white wa's ...
The Nith has a weird, weird soun' the nicht, As it swurls through the big black pool,An' the win' comin' ...
The simmer day was sweet an' lang, It had nae thocht o' sorrow,As my true love and I stood on ...
Air — "Martyrdom"—"Dundee."The pilgrim's feet here oft will treadO'er this sequestered scene,To mark whare Scotland's Maryrs lieIn lonely Rullion Green,—To ...
YE are twa laddies unco gleg, An' blithe an' bonnie: As licht o' heel as Anster's Meg;-- Gin ye'd a ...
The mitherless lammie ne'er miss'd its ain mammie,—We tentit it kindly by nicht and by day;The bairnies made game o't, ...
Air — "One day I heard Mary sing."Joy of my earliest days, Why must I grieve thee?Theme of my fondest ...
GUDE pity me, because I'm little! For though I am an elf o' mettle, An' can, like ony wabster's shuttle, ...
THE LOVELY lass o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For, e'en to morn she cries, alas! And ...
I GAED a waefu' gate yestreen, A gate, I fear, I'll dearly rue; I gat my death frae twa sweet ...
OH I am come to the low Countrie, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Without a penny in my purse, To buy a ...
'TWAS in the seventeen hunder year O' grace, and ninety-five, That year I was the wae'est man Of ony man ...
O THAT I had ne'er been married, I wad never had nae care, Now I've gotten wife an' weans, An' ...
O MIRK, mirk is this midnight hour, And loud the tempest's roar; A waefu' wanderer seeks thy tower, Lord Gregory, ...
RecitativoWHEN lyart leaves bestrow the yird, Or wavering like the bauckie-bird, Bedim cauld Boreas' blast; When hailstanes drive wi' bitter ...
The lovely lass o' Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e'en and morn she cries, "Alas!" And ...
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