Craigieburn Wood
Sweet fa’s the eve on Craigieburn, And blythe awakes the morrow; But a’ the pride o’ Spring’s return Can yield me nocht but sorrow. I see the flowers and spreading trees, I hear the wild birds singing; But what a weary wight can please, And Care his bosom wringing! Fain, fain would I my griefs impart, Yet dare na for your anger; But secret love will break my heart, If I conceal it langer. If thou refuse to pity me, If thou shalt love another, When yon green leaves fade frae the tree, Around my grave they’ll wither.
Versicles of 1795
The Solemn League And Covenant
The Solemn League and Covenant Now brings a smile, now brings a tear; But sacred Freedom, too, was theirs: If thou’rt a slave, indulge thy sneer. Compliments Of John Syme Of Ryedale
Lines sent with a Present of a Dozen of Porter.
O had the malt thy strength of mind, Or hops the flavour of thy wit, ’Twere drink for first of human kind, A gift that e’en for Syme were fit. Jerusalem Tavern, Dumfries.