Robert Burns

“ Tie up my sleeves with ribbons rare,
⁠And lace my boddice blue.
For why, she cries, sit still and weep,
⁠While others dance and play?
Alas! I scarce can go or creep,
⁠While Lubin is away.
’Tis sad to think the days are gone,
⁠When those we love are near ”

“ Waiting on me, my love,
⁠He’s waiting on me;
For he’s low down, he’s in the broom,
⁠That’s waiting on me.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago. ”

“ YE banks and braes o’ bonny Doon,
How can ye bloom sae fresh and fair,
How can ye chaunt, ye little birds,
And I sae weary fu’ o’ care.
How can ye chaunt, ye little birds,
That wanton through the flow’ry thorn ”