88. The Author’s Earnest Cry and Prayer (Robert Burns Poems)
YE Irish lords, ye knights an' squires, Wha represent our brughs an' shires, An' doucely manage our affairs In parliament, ...
YE Irish lords, ye knights an' squires, Wha represent our brughs an' shires, An' doucely manage our affairs In parliament, ...
NO more, ye warblers of the wood! no more; Nor pour your descant grating on my soul; Thou young-eyed Spring! ...
Chorus.-You're welcome, Willie Stewart, You're welcome, Willie Stewart, There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May, That's half sae welcome's ...
SIR, o'er a gill I gat your card, I trow it made me proud; "See wha taks notice o' the ...
THOUGH fickle Fortune has deceived me, She pormis'd fair and perform'd but ill; Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav'd me, ...
WHEN wild war's deadly blast was blawn, And gentle peace returning, Wi' mony a sweet babe fatherless, And mony a ...
ALL hail! inexorable lord! At whose destruction-breathing word, The mightiest empires fall! Thy cruel, woe-delighted train, The ministers of grief ...
MY 1 heart is wae, and unco wae, To think upon the raging sea, That roars between her gardens green ...
HERE lies Boghead amang the dead In hopes to get salvation; But if such as he in Heav'n may be, ...
WHEN chill November's surly blast Made fields and forests bare, One ev'ning, as I wander'd forth Along the banks of ...
I SING of a Whistle, a Whistle of worth, I sing of a Whistle, the pride of the North. Was ...
YOU'RE welcome to Despots, Dumourier; You're welcome to Despots, Dumourier: How does Dampiere do? Ay, and Bournonville too? Why did ...
HOW can my poor heart be glad, When absent from my sailor lad; How can I the thought forego- He's ...
THOU'S 1 welcome, wean; mishanter fa' me, If thoughts o' thee, or yet thy mamie, Shall ever daunton me or ...
RecitativoWHEN lyart leaves bestrow the yird, Or wavering like the bauckie-bird, Bedim cauld Boreas' blast; When hailstanes drive wi' bitter ...
SCOTS, wha hae wi' WALLACE bled, Scots, wham BRUCE has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to Victorie! ...
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victory! ...
I am like, They tell me, my dear father. Broader brows Howbeit, upon a slenderer undergrowth Of delicate ...
The breaking waves dashed high On a stern and rock-bound coast, And the woods, against a stormy sky, Their giant ...
Sound the Flute! Now it's mute. Birds delight Day and Night Nightingale In the dale Lark in Sky Merrily Merrily ...
The Sun does arise, And make happy the skies. The merry bells ring, To welcome the Spring. The sky-lark and ...
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