On Politics
In Politics if thou would'st mix, And mean thy fortunes be; Bearthis in mind,-be deaf and blind, Let great folk hear and see.
Phillis The Fair
While larks, with little wing, Fann'd the pure air, Tasting the breathing Spring, Forth I did fare: Gay the sun's golden eye Peep'd o'er the mountains high; Such thy morn! did I cry, Phillis the fair. In each bird's careless song, Glad I did share; While yonwild-flowers among, Chance led me there! Sweet to the
Poortith Cauld And Restless Love
O poortith cauld, and restless love, Ye wrack my peace between ye; Yet poortitha' I could forgive, An'twere nafor my Jeanie. Chorus-O why should Fate sic pleasure have, Life's dearest bands untwining? Orwhy sae sweet a flower as love Depend on Fortune's shining? The warld's wealth, when I think on, It's pride and a'the laveo't;
Robert Bruce’s March To Bannockburn
Scots, wha haewi' Wallace bled, Scots, whamBruce has aftenled, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to Victorie! Now's the day, and now's the hour; See the front o'battle lour; See approach proud Edward's power- Chains and Slaverie! Wha will be a traitor knave? Wha can fill a coward's grave? Whasaebase as be a Slave? Let
Lines Inscribed In A Lady’s Pocket Almanac
Grant me, indulgent Heaven, that I may live, To see the miscreants feel the pains they give; Deal Freedom's sacred treasures free as air, TillSlave and Despot be butthings that were.
Sonnet Written On The Author’s Birthday
Sing on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain, See aged Winter, 'mid his surly reign, At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow. So in lone Poverty's dominion drear, Sits meek Content with light, unanxious heart; Welcomes the rapid moments, bids them part, Nor asks if
Thanksgiving For A National Victory
Ye hypocrites! are these your pranks? To murder men and give God thanks! Desist, for shame!-proceed nofurther; God won't accept your thanks for Murther!