Heap on more wood! the wind is chill; But let it whistle as it will, We'll keep our Christmas merry still. Each age has deem'd the new-born year The fittest time for festal cheer:...
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?...
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 turn'd...
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?...
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.
I. The rose is fairest when 't is budding new, And hope is brightest when it dawns from fears; The rose is sweetest washed with morning dew And love is loveliest when embalmed in tears....
Ah, poor Louise! the livelong day She roams from cot to castle gay; And still her voice and viol say, Ah, maids, beware the woodland way, Think on Louise.
Good evening, Sir Priest, and so late as you ride, With your mule so fair, and your mantle so wide; But ride you through valley, or ride you o'er hill. There is one that has warrant to wait on you still....