To Mesdames Zassetsky And Garschine

Related poetry:

1. 284. Song-Ca' the Yowes to the Knowes (older set) Chorus.-Ca’ the yowes to the knowes, Ca’ them where the heather grows, Ca’ them where the burnie rowes, My bonie dearie AS I gaed down the water-side, There I met my shepherd lad: He row’d me sweetly in his plaid, And he ca’d me his dearie. Ca’ the yowes, &c. Will ye gang down the […]...
2. 469. Song-Ca' the Yowes to the Knowes Chorus.-Ca’the yowes to the knowes, Ca’ them where the heather grows, Ca’ them where the burnie rowes, My bonie Dearie. HARK the mavis’ e’ening sang, Sounding Clouden’s woods amang; Then a-faulding let us gang, My bonie Dearie. Ca’ the yowes, &c. We’ll gae down by Clouden side, Thro’ the hazels, spreading wide, O’er the waves […]...
3. The Prinkin' Leddie The Hielan’ lassies are a’ for spinnin’, The Lowlan’ lassies for prinkin’ and pinnin’; My daddie w’u’d chide me, an’ so w’u’d my minnie If I s’u’d bring hame sic a prinkin’ leddie. Now haud your tongue, ye haverin’ coward, For whilst I’m young I’ll go flounced an’ flowered, In lutestring striped like the strings […]...
4. 33. Song-"Indeed will I," quo' Findlay “WHA is that at my bower-door?” “O wha is it but Findlay!” “Then gae your gate, ye’se nae be here:” “Indeed maun I,” quo’ Findlay; “What mak’ ye, sae like a thief?” “O come and see,” quo’ Findlay; “Before the morn ye’ll work mischief:” “Indeed will I,” quo’ Findlay. “Gif I rise and let you […]...
5. 345. Song-Frae the friends and land I love FRAE the friends and land I love, Driv’n by Fortune’s felly spite; Frae my best belov’d I rove, Never mair to taste delight: Never mair maun hope to find Ease frae toil, relief frae care; When Remembrance wracks the mind, Pleasures but unveil despair. Brightest climes shall mirk appear, Desert ilka blooming shore, Till the […]...
6. 207. Song-I'm O'er Young to Marry yet Chorus.-I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young to marry yet; I’m o’er young, ‘twad be a sin To tak me frae my mammy yet. I AM my mammny’s ae bairn, Wi’ unco folk I weary, sir; And lying in a man’s bed, I’m fley’d it mak me eerie, sir. I’m o’er young, &c. […]...
7. 465. Song-It was a' for our rightfu' King IT was a’ for our rightfu’ King We left fair Scotland’s strand; It was a’ for our rightfu’ King We e’er saw Irish land, my dear, We e’er saw Irish land. Now a’ is done that men can do, And a’ is done in vain; My Love and Native Land fareweel, For I maun cross […]...
8. To Madame Garschine WHAT is the face, the fairest face, till Care, Till Care the graver – Care with cunning hand, Etches content thereon and makes it fair, Or constancy, and love, and makes it grand?...
9. 543. Song-News, lassies, news THERE’S news, lassies, news, Gude news I’ve to tell! There’s a boatfu’ o’ lads Come to our town to sell. Chorus.-The wean wants a cradle, And the cradle wants a cod: I’ll no gang to my bed, Until I get a nod. Father, quo’ she, Mither, quo she, Do what you can, I’ll no gang […]...
10. 515. Song-O let me in this ae night O LASSIE, are ye sleepin yet, Or are ye waukin, I wad wit? For Love has bound me hand an’ fit, And I would fain be in, jo. Chorus.-O let me in this ae night, This ae, ae, ae night; O let me in this ae night, I’ll no come back again, jo! O hear’st […]...
11. 219. Song-To Daunton Me THE BLUDE-RED rose at Yule may blaw, The simmer lilies bloom in snaw, The frost may freeze the deepest sea; But an auld man shall never daunton me. Refrain.-To daunton me, to daunton me, And auld man shall never daunton me. To daunton me, and me sae young, Wi’ his fause heart and flatt’ring tongue, […]...
12. 285. Song-I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen I GAED a waefu’ gate yestreen, A gate, I fear, I’ll dearly rue; I gat my death frae twa sweet een, Twa lovely een o’bonie blue. ‘Twas not her golden ringlets bright, Her lips like roses wat wi’ dew, Her heaving bosom, lily-white- It was her een sae bonie blue. She talk’d, she smil’d, my […]...
13. Fareweel, ye bughts 1. Fareweel, ye bughts, an’ all your ewes, An’ fields whare bIoomin’ heather grows; Nae mair the sportin’ lambs I’ll see Since my true love’s forsaken me. CHORUS. Nae mair I’ll hear wi’ pleasure sing The cheerfu’ lav’rock in the Spring, But sad in grief now I maun mourn, Far, far frae her, o’er Logan-burn. […]...
14. When that I was and a little tiny boy When that I was and a little tiny boy, With hey, ho, the wind and the rain, A foolish thing was but a toy, For the rain it raineth every day. But when I came to man’s estate, With hey, ho, . . . ‘Gainst knaves and thieves men shut their gate For the rain, […]...
15. 324. Song-The Charms of Lovely Davies O HOW shall I, unskilfu’, try The poet’s occupation? The tunefu’ powers, in happy hours, That whisper inspiration; Even they maun dare an effort mair Than aught they ever gave us, Ere they rehearse, in equal verse, The charms o’ lovely Davies. Each eye it cheers when she appears, Like Phoebus in the morning, When […]...
16. 132. Reply to a Trimming Epistle, received from a Tailor WHAT ails ye now, ye lousie bitch To thresh my back at sic a pitch? Losh, man! hae mercy wi’ your natch, Your bodkin’s bauld; I didna suffer half sae much Frae Daddie Auld. What tho’ at times, when I grow crouse, I gie their wames a random pouse, Is that enough for you to […]...
17. Failure Because God put His adamantine fate Between my sullen heart and its desire, I swore that I would burst the Iron Gate, Rise up, and curse Him on His throne of fire. Earth shuddered at my crown of blasphemy, But Love was as a flame about my feet; Proud up the Golden Stair I strode; […]...
18. 221. Song-The Bonie Lad that's Far Awa O HOW can I be blythe and glad, Or how can I gang brisk and braw, When the bonie lad that I lo’e best Is o’er the hills and far awa! It’s no the frosty winter wind, It’s no the driving drift and snaw; But aye the tear comes in my e’e, To think on […]...
19. 377. Song-The Country Lass IN simmer, when the hay was mawn, And corn wav’d green in ilka field, While claver blooms white o’er the lea And roses blaw in ilka beild! Blythe Bessie in the milking shiel, Says-“I’ll be wed, come o’t what will”: Out spake a dame in wrinkled eild; “O’ gude advisement comes nae ill. “It’s ye […]...
20. 427. Song-Whistle and I'll come to you Chorus.-O WHISTLE, an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad, O whistle, an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad, Tho’ father an’ mother an’ a’ should gae mad, O whistle, an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad. But warily tent when ye come to court me, And come nae unless the back-yett be a-jee; Syne up […]...
21. 106. To Gavin Hamilton, Esq., Mauchline, recommending a Boy I HOLD it, sir, my bounden duty To warn you how that Master Tootie, Alias, Laird M’Gaun, Was here to hire yon lad away ‘Bout whom ye spak the tither day, An’ wad hae don’t aff han’; But lest he learn the callan tricks- An’ faith I muckle doubt him- Like scrapin out auld Crummie’s […]...
22. 101. Song-Composed in Spring AGAIN rejoicing Nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues: Her leafy locks wave in the breeze, All freshly steep’d in morning dews. Chorus.-And maun I still on Menie doat, And bear the scorn that’s in her e’e? For it’s jet, jet black, an’ it’s like a hawk, An’ it winna let a body be. […]...
23. Santa Claus in the Bush It chanced out back at the Christmas time, When the wheat was ripe and tall, A stranger rode to the farmer’s gate A sturdy man and a small. “Rin doon, rin doon, my little son Jack, And bid the stranger stay; And we’ll hae a crack for Auld Lang Syne, For the morn is Christmas […]...
24. 547. Verses to Collector Mitchell FRIEND of the Poet, tried and leal, Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal; Alake, alake, the meikle deil Wi’ a’ his witches Are at it skelpin jig and reel, In my poor pouches? I modestly fu’ fain wad hint it, That One-pound-one, I sairly want it; If wi’ the hizzie down ye sent it, […]...
25. 179. To Miss Ferrier, enclosing Elegy on Sir J. H. Blair NAE heathen name shall I prefix, Frae Pindus or Parnassus; Auld Reekie dings them a’ to sticks, For rhyme-inspiring lasses. Jove’s tunefu’ dochters three times three Made Homer deep their debtor; But, gien the body half an e’e, Nine Ferriers wad done better! Last day my mind was in a bog, Down George’s Street I […]...
26. 239. Song-My Bonie Mary GO, fetch to me a pint o’ wine, And fill it in a silver tassie; That I may drink before I go, A service to my bonie lassie. The boat rocks at the pier o’ Leith; Fu’ loud the wind blaws frae the Ferry; The ship rides by the Berwick-law, And I maun leave my […]...
27. Prelude – Tristan And Isolde Fate, out of the deep sea’s gloom, When a man’s heart’s pride grows great, And nought seems now to foredoom Fate, Fate, laden with fears in wait, Draws close through the clouds that loom, Till the soul see, all too late, More dark than a dead world’s tomb, More high than the sheer dawn’s gate, […]...
28. 416. Song-Logan Braes O LOGAN, sweetly didst thou glide, That day I was my Willie’s bride, And years sin syne hae o’er us run, Like Logan to the simmer sun: But now thy flowery banks appear Like drumlie Winter, dark and drear, While my dear lad maun face his faes, Far, far frae me and Logan braes. Again […]...
29. The Rainy Day The day is cold, and dark, and dreary It rains, and the wind is never weary; The vine still clings to the mouldering wall, But at every gust the dead leaves fall, And the day is dark and dreary. My life is cold, and dark, and dreary; It rains, and the wind is never weary; […]...
30. 226. Song-I hae a Wife o' my Ain I HAE a wife of my ain, I’ll partake wi’ naebody; I’ll take Cuckold frae nane, I’ll gie Cuckold to naebody. I hae a penny to spend, There-thanks to naebody! I hae naething to lend, I’ll borrow frae naebody. I am naebody’s lord, I’ll be slave to naebody; I hae a gude braid sword, I’ll […]...
31. 213. Song-Up in the Morning Early CAULD blaws the wind frae east to west, The drift is driving sairly; Sae loud and shill’s I hear the blast- I’m sure it’s winter fairly. Chorus.-Up in the morning’s no for me, Up in the morning early; When a’ the hills are covered wi’ snaw, I’m sure it’s winter fairly. The birds sit chittering […]...
32. 485. Song-How lang and dreary is the night HOW lang and dreary is the night When I am frae my Dearie; I restless lie frae e’en to morn Though I were ne’er sae weary. Chorus.-For oh, her lanely nights are lang! And oh, her dreams are eerie; And oh, her window’d heart is sair, That’s absent frae her Dearie! When I think on […]...
33. 71. Second Epistle to Davie AULD NEIBOUR, I’m three times doubly o’er your debtor, For your auld-farrant, frien’ly letter; Tho’ I maun say’t I doubt ye flatter, Ye speak sae fair; For my puir, silly, rhymin clatter Some less maun sair. Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle, Lang may your elbuck jink diddle, To cheer you thro’ the […]...
34. Winter Song Rain and wind, and wind and rain. Will the Summer come again? Rain on houses, on the street, Wetting all the people’s feet, Though they run with might and main. Rain and wind, and wind and rain. Snow and sleet, and sleet and snow. Will the Winter never go? What do beggar children do With […]...
35. 369. Song-My Collier Laddie WHARE live ye, my bonie lass? And tell me what they ca’ ye; My name, she says, is mistress Jean, And I follow the Collier laddie. My name, she says, &c. See you not yon hills and dales The sun shines on sae brawlie; They a’ are mine, and they shall be thine, Gin ye’ll […]...
36. Little Jamie Ither laddies may ha’s finer claes, and may be better fed, But nane o’ them a’has sic a bonnie curly heid, O sie a blythe blink in their e’e, As my ain curly fair-hair’d laddie, Little Jamie. When I gang oot tae tak’ a walk wi’ him, alang the Magdalen Green, It mak’s my heart […]...
37. Ad Nepotem O NEPOS, twice my neigh(b)our (since at home We’re door by door, by Flora’s temple dome; And in the country, still conjoined by fate, Behold our villas standing gate by gate), Thou hast a daughter, dearer far than life – Thy image and the image of thy wife. Thy image and thy wife’s, and be […]...
38. To Charles Baxter OUR Johnie’s deid. The mair’s the pity! He’s deid, an’ deid o’ Aqua-vitae. O Embro’, you’re a shrunken city, Noo Johnie’s deid! Tak hands, an’ sing a burial ditty Ower Johnie’s heid....
39. The Rain and the Wind The rain and the wind, the wind and the rain They are with us like a disease: They worry the heart, they work the brain, As they shoulder and clutch at the shrieking pane, And savage the helpless trees. What does it profit a man to know These tattered and tumbling skies A million stately […]...
40. Marengo Out of the sump rise the marigolds. From the rim of the marsh, muslin with mosquitoes, Rises the egret, in his cloud-cloth. Through the soft rain, like mist, and mica, The withered acres of moss begin again. When I have to die, I would like to die On a day of rain Long rain, slow […]...