Lament For Culloden

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1. 460. Song-The Lovely Lass o' Inverness THE LOVELY lass o’ Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For, e’en to morn she cries, alas! And aye the saut tear blin’s her e’e. “Drumossie moor, Drumossie day- A waefu’ day it was to me! For there I lost my father dear, My father dear, and brethren three. “Their winding-sheet the bluidy […]...
2. 517. Song-O wat ye wha's in yon town Chorus-O wat ye wha’s in yon town, Ye see the e’enin sun upon, The dearest maid’s in yon town, That e’ening sun is shining on. NOW haply down yon gay green shaw, She wanders by yon spreading tree; How blest ye flowers that round her blaw, Ye catch the glances o’ her e’e! O wat […]...
3. THE ERL-KING WHO rides there so late through the night dark and drear? The father it is, with his infant so dear; He holdeth the boy tightly clasp’d in his arm, He holdeth him safely, he keepeth him warm. “My son, wherefore seek’st thou thy face thus to hide?” “Look, father, the Erl-King is close by our […]...
4. Forget-Me-Not A gallant knight and his betroth’d bride, Were walking one day by a river side, They talk’d of love, and they talk’d of war, And how very foolish lovers are. At length the bride to the knight did say, ‘There have been many young ladies led astray By believing in all their lovers said, And […]...
5. 319. Lament for James, Earl of Glencairn THE WIND blew hollow frae the hills, By fits the sun’s departing beam Look’d on the fading yellow woods, That wav’d o’er Lugar’s winding stream: Beneath a craigy steep, a Bard, Laden with years and meikle pain, In loud lament bewail’d his lord, Whom Death had all untimely ta’en. He lean’d him to an ancient […]...
6. 313. Lament of Mary, Queen of Scots NOW Nature hangs her mantle green On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o’ daisies white Out o’er the grassy lea; Now Phoebus cheers the crystal streams, And glads the azure skies; But nought can glad the weary wight That fast in durance lies. Now laverocks wake the merry morn Aloft on dewy wing; […]...
7. 373. Song-The Slave's Lament IT was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral, For the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary O. All on […]...
8. THE DIRGE OF JEPHTHAH'S DAUGHTER:SUNG BY THE VIRGINS O thou, the wonder of all days! O paragon, and pearl of praise! O Virgin-martyr, ever blest Above the rest Of all the maiden-train! We come, And bring fresh strewings to thy tomb. Thus, thus, and thus, we compass round Thy harmless and unhaunted ground; And as we sing thy dirge, we will The daffadil, […]...
9. 223. Song-The Chevalier's Lament THE SMALL birds rejoice in the green leaves returning, The murmuring streamlet winds clear thro’ the vale; The primroses blow in the dews of the morning, And wild scatter’d cowslips bedeck the green dale: But what can give pleasure, or what can seem fair, When the lingering moments are numbered by care? No birds sweetly […]...
10. 104. The Lament O THOU pale orb that silent shines While care-untroubled mortals sleep! Thou seest a wretch who inly pines. And wanders here to wail and weep! With woe I nightly vigils keep, Beneath thy wan, unwarming beam; And mourn, in lamentation deep, How life and love are all a dream! I joyless view thy rays adorn […]...
11. Sonnet VI: How Many Paltry Things How many paltry, foolish, painted things, That now is coaches trouble every street, Shall be forgotten, whom no Poet sings, Ere they be well wrapt in their winding-sheet. Where I to thee eternity shall give, When nothing else remaineth of these days, And Queens hereafter shall be glad to live Upon the alms of thy […]...
12. An Orphan's Lament She’s gone and twice the summer’s sun Has gilt Regina’s towers, And melted wild Angora’s snows, And warmed Exina’s bowers. The flowerets twice on hill and dale Have bloomed and died away, And twice the rustling forest leaves Have fallen to decay, And thrice stern winter’s icy hand Has checked the river’s flow, And three […]...
13. MORNING LAMENT OH thou cruel deadly-lovely maiden, Tell me what great sin have I committed, That thou keep’st me to the rack thus fasten’d, That thou hast thy solemn promise broken? ‘Twas but yestere’en that thou with fondness Press’d my hand, and these sweet accents murmured: “Yes, I’ll come, I’ll come when morn approacheth, Come, my friend, […]...
14. How Many Paltry Foolish Painted Things How many paltry foolish painted things, That now in coaches trouble every street, Shall be forgotten, whom no poet sings, Ere they be well wrapped in their winding-sheet! Where I to thee eternity shall give, When nothing else remaineth of these days, And queens hereafter shall be glad to live Upon the alms of thy […]...
15. DEATH-LAMENT OF THE NOBLE WIFE OF ASAN AGA [From the Morlack.) WHAT is yonder white thing in the forest? Is it snow, or can it swans perchance be? Were it snow, ere this it had been melted, Were it swans, they all away had hastend. Snow, in truth, it is not, swans it is not, ‘Tis the shining tents of Asan Aga. He […]...
16. Beppo Why are thou sad, my Beppo? But last eve, Here at my feet, thy dear head on my breast, I heard thee say thy heart would no more grieve Or feel the olden ennui and unrest. What troubles thee? Am I not all thine own – I, so long sought, so sighed for and so […]...
17. Sonnets ix FAREWELL! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know’st thy estimate: The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting? And for that riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in […]...
18. Sonnet 87: Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing Farewell! Thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know’st thy estimate, The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting, And for that riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in […]...
19. The Kingfisher It was the Rainbow gave thee birth, And left thee all her lovely hues; And, as her mother’s name was Tears, So runs it in my blood to choose For haunts the lonely pools, and keep In company with trees that weep. Go you and, with such glorious hues, Live with proud peacocks in green […]...
20. 311. On the Birth of a Posthumous Child SWEET flow’ret, pledge o’ meikle love, And ward o’ mony a prayer, What heart o’ stane wad thou na move, Sae helpless, sweet, and fair? November hirples o’er the lea, Chill, on thy lovely form: And gane, alas! the shelt’ring tree, Should shield thee frae the storm. May He who gives the rain to pour, […]...
21. Sonnet LXXXVII Farewell! thou art too dear for my possessing, And like enough thou know’st thy estimate: The charter of thy worth gives thee releasing; My bonds in thee are all determinate. For how do I hold thee but by thy granting? And for that riches where is my deserving? The cause of this fair gift in […]...
22. 557. Song-Fairest Maid on Devon's Banks Chorus-Fairest maid on Devon banks, Crystal Devon, winding Devon, Wilt thou lay that frown aside, And smile as thou wert wont to do? FULL well thou know’st I love thee dear, Couldst thou to malice lend an ear! O did not Love exclaim: “Forbear, Nor use a faithful lover so.” Fairest maid, &c. Then come, […]...
23. When He Who Adores Thee When he, who adores thee, has left but the name Of his fault and his sorrows behind, Oh! say wilt thou weep, when they darken the fame Of a life that for thee was resign’d? Yes, weep, and however my foes may condemn, Thy tears shall efface their decree; For Heaven can witness, though guilty […]...
24. 361. Song-Behold the Hour, the Boat, arrive BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arrive! My dearest Nancy, O fareweel! Severed frae thee, can I survive, Frae thee whom I hae lov’d sae weel? Endless and deep shall be my grief; Nae ray of comfort shall I see, But this most precious, dear belief, That thou wilt still remember me! Alang the solitary shore […]...
25. 484. Song-Saw you my dear, my Philly O SAW ye my Dear, my Philly? O saw ye my Dear, my Philly, She’s down i’ the grove, she’s wi’ a new Love, She winna come hame to her Willy. What says she my dear, my Philly? What says she my dear, my Philly? She lets thee to wit she has thee forgot, And […]...
26. Psalm 84 How lovely are thy dwellings fair! O Lord of Hoasts, how dear The pleasant Tabernacles are! Where thou do’st dwell so near. My Soul doth long and almost die Thy Courts O Lord to see, My heart and flesh aloud do crie, O living God, for thee. There ev’n the Sparrow freed from wrong Hath […]...
27. The Battle of Culloden ‘Twas in the year of 1746, and in April the 14th day, That Prince Charles Stuart and his army marched on without delay, And on the 14th of April they encamped on Culloden Moor, But the army felt hungry, and no food could they procure. And the calls of hunger could not brook delay, So […]...
28. A DIALOGUE BETWIXT HIMSELF AND MISTRESS ELIZAWHEELER, UNDER THE NAME OF AMARILLIS My dearest Love, since thou wilt go, And leave me here behind thee; For love or pity, let me know The place where I may find thee. AMARIL. In country meadows, pearl’d with dew, And set about with lilies; There, filling maunds with cowslips, you May find your Amarillis. HER. What have the meads to […]...
29. 342. Song-Sweet Afton FLOW gently, sweet Afton! amang thy green braes, Flow gently, I’ll sing thee a song in thy praise; My Mary’s asleep by thy murmuring stream, Flow gently, sweet Afton, disturb not her dream. Thou stockdove whose echo resounds thro’ the glen, Ye wild whistling blackbirds in yon thorny den, Thou green-crested lapwing thy screaming forbear, […]...
30. A Lament My thoughts hold mortal strife; I do detest my life, And with lamenting cries Peace to my soul to bring Oft call that prince which here doth monarchize: But he, grim grinning King, Who caitiffs scorns, and doth the blest surprise, Late having decked with beauty’s rose his tomb, Disdains to crop a weed, and […]...
31. Sonnet 48: How careful was I, when I took my way How careful was I, when I took my way, Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, That to my use it might unusèd stay From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust! But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, Most worthy comfort, now my greatest grief, Thou best of dearest, and mine only […]...
32. Sonnet XLVIII How careful was I, when I took my way, Each trifle under truest bars to thrust, That to my use it might unused stay From hands of falsehood, in sure wards of trust! But thou, to whom my jewels trifles are, Most worthy of comfort, now my greatest grief, Thou, best of dearest and mine […]...
33. The Maiden's Lament The clouds fast gather, The forest-oaks roar A maiden is sitting Beside the green shore, The billows are breaking with might, with might, And she sighs aloud in the darkling night, Her eyelid heavy with weeping. “My heart’s dead within me, The world is a void; To the wish it gives nothing, Each hope is […]...
34. 237. Song-It is na, Jean, thy Bonie Face IT is na, Jean, thy bonie face, Nor shape that I admire; Altho’ thy beauty and thy grace Might weel awauk desire. Something, in ilka part o’ thee, To praise, to love, I find, But dear as is thy form to me, Still dearer is thy mind. Nae mair ungenerous wish I hae, Nor stronger […]...
35. 359. Song-O May, thy Morn O MAY, thy morn was ne’er so sweet As the mirk night o’ December! For sparkling was the rosy wine, And private was the chamber: And dear was she I dare na name, But I will aye remember: And dear was she I dare na name, But I will aye remember. And here’s to them […]...
36. 197. Song-The Banks of the Devon HOW pleasant the banks of the clear winding Devon, With green spreading bushes and flow’rs blooming fair! But the boniest flow’r on the banks of the Devon Was once a sweet bud on the braes of the Ayr. Mild be the sun on this sweet blushing flower, In the gay rosy morn, as it bathes […]...
37. Thee, God, I Come from Thee, God, I come from, to thee go, All day long I like fountain flow From thy hand out, swayed about Mote-like in thy mighty glow. What I know of thee I bless, As acknowledging thy stress On my being and as seeing Something of thy holiness. Once I turned from thee and hid, Bound […]...
38. To J. W Set not thy foot on graves; Hear what wine and roses say; The mountain chase, the summer waves, The crowded town, thy feet may well delay. Set not thy foot on graves; Nor seek to unwind the shroud Which charitable time And nature have allowed To wrap the errors of a sage sublime. Set not […]...
39. Clock-O'-Clay In the cowslip pips I lie, Hidden from the buzzing fly, While green grass beneath me lies, Pearled with dew like fishes’ eyes, Here I lie, a clock-o’-clay, Waiting for the time o’ day. While the forest quakes surprise, And the wild wind sobs and sighs, My home rocks as like to fall, On its […]...
40. 470. Song-She says she loes me best of a&#039 SAE flaxen were her ringlets, Her eyebrows of a darker hue, Bewitchingly o’er-arching Twa laughing e’en o’ lovely blue; Her smiling, sae wyling. Wad make a wretch forget his woe; What pleasure, what treasure, Unto these rosy lips to grow! Such was my Chloris’ bonie face, When first that bonie face I saw; And aye […]...