Sir Walter Scott

I cannot tell how the truth may be;
I say the tale as 'twas said to me.

I cannot tell how the truth may be;
I say the tale as 'twas said to me.

England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;
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England was merry England, when
Old Christmas brought his sports again.
'Twas Christmas broach'd the mightiest ale;
'Twas Christmas told the merriest tale;
A Christmas gambol oft could cheer
The poor man's heart through half the year.

Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band
That knits me to read more

Land of my sires! what mortal hand
Can e'er untie the filial band
That knits me to thy rugged strand!

Do you desire not to be angry? Be not inquisitive. He who
inquires what is said of him only read more

Do you desire not to be angry? Be not inquisitive. He who
inquires what is said of him only works out his own misery.

Vengeance to God alone belongs;
But, when I think of all my wrongs
My blood is liquid read more

Vengeance to God alone belongs;
But, when I think of all my wrongs
My blood is liquid flame!