Robert Tannahill Poems

Mirk and rainy is the nicht,
There's no' a staum in a' the carry
Lichtnin's gleam athwart the lift,
And cauld winds drive wi' winters fury.
...

Ye sunny braes that skirt the Clyde
Wi' simmer flowers sae braw,
There's ae sweet flower on Levern side,
That's fairer than them a':
...

Blithe was the time when he fee'd wi' my father, O,
Happy were the days when we herded thegither, O,
...

Fly we to some desert isle,
There we'll pass our days together,
Shun the world's derisive smile,
Wand'ring tenants of the heather:
...

From the rude bustling camp, to the calm rural plain,
I'm come, my dear Jeanie, to bless thee again;
...

Encircl'd in a cloud of smoke,
Sat the convivial core;
Like light'ning flash'd the merry joke,
...

Tho' my eyes are grown dim, and my locks are turn'd grey,
I feel not the storm of life's bleak wintry day;
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Ar from the giddy court of mirth,
Where sick'ning follies reign,
By Levern banks I wander forth
To hail each sylvan scene.
...

From hill to hill the bugles sound
The soul-arousing strain,
The war-bred coursers paw the ground,
And, foaming, champ the rein:
...

Ye maids of green Erin, why sigh ye so sad?
The summer is smiling, all nature is glad.
The summer may smile, and the shamrock may bloom,
...