Sir Walter Scott

Lochinvar

O young Lochinvar is come out of the west, Through all the wide Border his steed was the best; And save his good broadsword he weapons had none, He rode all unarm’d, and he

Lullaby of an Infant Chief

hush thee, my babie, thy sire was a knight, Thy mother a lady, both lovely and bright; The woods and the glens, from the towers which we see, They all are belonging, dear babie,

The Maid of Neidpath

O lovers’ eyes are sharp to see, And lovers’ ears in hearing; And love, in life’s extremity, Can lend an hour of cheering. Disease had been in Mary’s bower And slow decay from mourning,

Pibroch of Donail Dhu

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu, Pibroch of Donuil, Wake thy wild voice anew, Summon Clan-Conuil. Come away, come away, Hark to the summons! Come in your war array, Gentles and commons. Come from deep glen

Jock of Hazeldean

Why weep ye by the tide, ladie? Why weep ye by the tide? I’ll wed ye to my youngest son, And ye sall be his bride: And ye sall be his bride, ladie, Sae

Gathering Song of Donald the Black

Pibroch of Donuil Dhu Pibroch of Donuil Wake thy wild voice anew, Summon Clan Conuil! Come away, come away, Hark to the summons! Come in your war-array, Gentles and commons. Come from deep glen,

Where Shall the Lover Rest

Where shall the lover rest Whom the fates sever From the true maiden’s breast, Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high, Sounds the fair billow, Where early violets die, Under the willow.

County Guy

Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh, The sun has left the lea, The orange flower perfumes the bower, The breeze is on the sea. The lark his lay who thrill’d all day Sits

MacGregor's Gathering

The moon’s on the lake, and the mist’s on the brae, And the Clan has a name that is nameless by day; Then gather, gather, gather, Grigalach! Gather, gather, gather, &c. Our signal for

The Rover's Adieu

weary lot is thine, fair maid, A weary lot is thine! To pull the thorn thy brow to braid, And press the rue for wine. A lightsome eye, a soldier’s mien, A feather of

Datur Hora Quieti

The sun upon the lake is low, The wild birds hush their song, The hills have evening’s deepest glow, Yet Leonard tarries long. Now all whom varied toil and care From home and love

To a Lock of Hair

Thy hue, dear pledge, is pure and bright As in that well – remember’d night When first thy mystic braid was wove, And first my Agnes whisper’d love. Since then how often hast thou

Patriotism 01 Innominatus

BREATHES there the man with soul so dead, Who never to himself hath said, ‘This is my own, my native land!’ Whose heart hath ne’er within him burn’d As home his footsteps he hath

Bonny Dundee

To the Lords of Convention ’twas Claver’se who spoke. ‘Ere the King’s crown shall fall there are crowns to be broke; So let each Cavalier who loves honour and me, Come follow the bonnet

On Leaving Mrs. Brown's Lodgings

So goodbye, Mrs. Brown, I am going out of town, Over dale, over down, Where bugs bite not, Where lodgers fight not, Where below your chairmen drink not, Where beside your gutters stink not;

Lucy Ashton's Song

Look not thou on beauty’s charming; Sit thou still when kings are arming; Taste not when the wine-cup glistens; Speak not when the people listens; Stop thine ear against the singer; From the red

It Was an English Ladye Bright

It was an English ladye bright, (The sun shines fair on Carlisle wall,) And she would marry a Scottish knight, For Love will still be lord of all. Blithely they saw the rising sun

Coronach

He is gone on the mountain, He is lost to the forest, Like a summer-dried fountain, When our need was the sorest. The font, reappearing, From the rain-drops shall borrow, But to us comes

Brignall Banks

O, Brignall banks are wild and fair, And Greta woods are green, And you may gather garlands there, Would grace a summer queen: And as I rode by Dalton Hall, Beneath the turrets high,

Here's a Health to King Charles

Bring the bowl which you boast, Fill it up to the brim; ‘Tis to him we love most, And to all who love him. Brave gallants, stand up, And avaunt ye, base carles! Were

The Truth of Woman

Woman’s faith, and woman’s trust – Write the characters in the dust; Stamp them on the running stream, Print them on the moon’s pale beam, And each evanescent letter Shall be clearer, firmer, better,

Harp of the North, farewell! The hills grow dark, On purple peaks a deeper shade descending; In twilight copse the glow-worm lights her spark, The deer, half-seen, are to the covert wending. Resume thy

Border Ballad

March, march, Ettrick and Teviotdale, Why the deil dinna ye march forward in order! March, march, Eskdale and Liddesdale, All the Blue Bonnets are bound for the Border. Many a banner spread, Flutters above

Patriotism 02 Nelson, Pitt, Fox

TO mute and to material things New life revolving summer brings; The genial call dead Nature hears, And in her glory reappears. But oh, my Country’s wintry state What second spring shall renovate? What

Eleu Loro

Where shall the lover rest Whom the fates sever From his true maiden’s breast Parted for ever? Where, through groves deep and high Sounds the far billow, Where early violets die Under the willow.

Rosabelle

O listen, listen, ladies gay! No haughty feat of arms I tell; Soft is the note, and sad the lay That mourns the lovely Rosabelle. ‘Moor, moor the barge, ye gallant crew! And, gentle

Hunter's Song

The toils are pitched, and the stakes are set, Ever sing merrily, merrily; The bows they bend, and the knives they whet, Hunters live so cheerily. It was a stag, a stag of ten,

A Serenade

Ah! County Guy, the hour is nigh The sun has left the lea, The orange-flower perfumes the bower, The breeze is on the sea. The lark, his lay who trill’d all day, Sits hush’d