The heather was blooming, the meadows were mawn, Our lads gaeda-hunting aeday at the dawn, O'er moors and o'er mosses and mony a glen, At length they discover'd a bonie moor-hen. Chorus.-I rede you, beware at the hunting, young men, I rede you, beware at the hunting, young men; Take some on the wing, and [...]
Chorus.-My lady's gown, there's gairsupon't, And gowden flowers sae rare upon't; But Jenny's jimpsand jirkinet, My lord thinks meiklemairupon't. My lord a-hunting he is gone, But hounds orhawks wi'him are nane; ByColin's cottage lies his game, If Colin's Jenny be at hame. My lady's gown, &c. My lady's white, my lady's red, And kith and [...]
My Peggy's face, my Peggy's form, The frost of hermit Age might warm; My Peggy's worth, my Peggy's mind, Might charm the first of human kind. I love my Peggy's angel air, Her face so truly heavenly fair, Her native grace, so void of art, But I adore my Peggy's heart. The lily's hue, the [...]
Why, ye tenants of the lake, For me your wat'ry haunt forsake? Tell me, fellow-creatures, why At my presence thus you fly? Why disturb your social joys, Parent, filial, kindred ties?- Common friend to you and me, yature's gifts to all are free: Peaceful keep your dimpling wave, Busy feed, orwanton lave; Or, beneath the [...]
Sad thy tale, thou idle page, And rueful thy alarms: Death tears the brother of her love From Isabella's arms. Sweetly deckt with pearly dew The morning rose may blow; Butcold successive noontide blasts May lay its beauties low. Fair on Isabella's morn The sun propitious smil'd; But, long erenoon, succeeding clouds Succeeding hopes beguil'd. [...]
Lone on the bleaky hills the straying flocks Shun the fierce storms among the sheltering rocks; Down from the rivulets, redwith dashing rains, The gathering floods burst o'er the distant plains; Beneath the blast the leafless forests groan; The hollow caves return a hollow moan. Ye hills, ye plains, ye forests, and ye caves, Ye [...]
When, by a generous Public's kind acclaim, That dearest meed is granted-honest fame; Waen here your favour is the actor's lot, Nor even the man in private life forgot; What breast so deadto heavenly Virtue's glow, But heaves impassion'd with the grateful throe? Poor is the task to please a barb'rous throng, It needs no [...]
Rattlin', Roarin' Willie^1 As I cambyCrochallan, I canniliekeekit ben; Rattlin', roarin' Willie Was sittin at yon boord-en'; Sittin at yonboord-en, And amanggudecompanie; Rattlin', roarin' Willie, You're welcome hameto me!