Robert Tannahill

We once were many and now we are few.
As strands of our graying heads thin and fall to the ground,
So passes the veterans, "our comrades."
Home to their appointed destiny.
...

And were ye at Duntocher burn,
And did ye see them a', man?
And how's my wifie and the bairns?
I hae been lang awa', man.
...

Life would be lonely without them.
Where would we be without our friends?
They enrich our lives beyond measure.
And are far more valued than gold or treasure.
...

I dream, do you?
It's the natural thing to do.
Dreams have not limits, there's wrongs and rights,
You can live a lifetime in the short hours of the nights.
...

Keen blaws the wind o'er the Braes o' Gleniffer.
The auld castle's turrets are cover'd wi' snaw;
How chang'd frae the time when I met wi' my lover
...

Dear Judy, when first we got married
Our fortune indeed was but small,
For save the light hearts that we carried,
Our riches were nothing at all.
...

A person with whom one is in love,
That love two sweethearts share.
A deep and tender feeling of devotion, comfort, and care.
A someone to take and to give,
...

Weel, wha's in the bouroch,
And what is your cheer?
The best that ye'll find
In a thousand year;
...

I have my little hug-a bug, a friend no one can see,
And everywhere I go, it comes along with me.
Its home is in my pockets, a front one or a back,
Sometimes I can't find it, it's a needle in a haystack.
...

Let us go, lassie, go,
To the braes o' Balquhither,
Where the blae-berries grow
'Mang the bonny Highland heather;
...

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;
...

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,
...