263. Song-The Gardener wi' his Paidle
WHEN rosy May comes in wi’ flowers, To deck her gay, green-spreading bowers, Then busy, busy are his hours, The Gard’ner wi’ his paidle. The crystal waters gently fa’, The merry bards are lovers
445. The Minstel at Lincluden
AS I stood by yon roofless tower, Where the wa’flow’r scents the dery air, Where the howlet mourns in her ivy bower, And tells the midnight moon her care. Chorus.-A lassie all alone, was
464. The Highland Widow's Lament
OH I am come to the low Countrie, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie! Without a penny in my purse, To buy a meal to me. It was na sae in the Highland hills, Ochon, Ochon, Ochrie!
1. Song-Handsome Nell
O ONCE I lov’d a bonie lass, Ay, and I love her still; And whilst that virtue warms my breast, I’ll love my handsome Nell. As bonie lasses I hae seen, And mony full
62. Epistle to William Simson
I GAT your letter, winsome Willie; Wi’ gratefu’ heart I thank you brawlie; Tho’ I maun say’t, I wad be silly, And unco vain, Should I believe, my coaxin billie Your flatterin strain. But
384. Song-Highland Mary
YE banks, and braes, and streams around The castle o’ Montgomery! Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie: There Simmer first unfauld her robes, And there the langest tarry;
157. Prologue, spoken by Mr. Woods at Edinburgh
WHEN, by a generous Public’s kind acclaim, That dearest meed is granted-honest fame; Waen here your favour is the actor’s lot, Nor even the man in private life forgot; What breast so dead to
206. Song-Clarina, Mistress of my Soul
CLARINDA, mistres of my soul, The measur’d time is run! The wretch beneath the dreary pole So marks his latest sun. To what dark cave of frozen night Shall poor Sylvander hie; Depriv’d of
507. Song-Bonie Peg-a-Ramsay
CAULD is the e’enin blast, O’ Boreas o’er the pool, An’ dawin’ it is dreary, When birks are bare at Yule. Cauld blaws the e’enin blast, When bitter bites the frost, And, in the
100. Inscribed on a Work of Hannah More's
THOU flatt’ring mark of friendship kind, Still may thy pages call to mind The dear, the beauteous donor; Tho’ sweetly female ev’ry part, Yet such a head, and more the heart Does both the
433. Song-Down the Burn, Davie love
AS down the burn they took their way, And thro’ the flowery dale; His cheek to hers he aft did lay, And love was aye the tale: With “Mary, when shall we return, Sic
347. Song-Ye Jacobites by Name
YE Jacobites by name, give an ear, give an ear, Ye Jacobites by name, give an ear, Ye Jacobites by name, Your fautes I will proclaim, Your doctrines I maun blame, you shall hear.
133. The Brigs of Ayr
THE SIMPLE Bard, rough at the rustic plough, Learning his tuneful trade from ev’ry bough; The chanting linnet, or the mellow thrush, Hailing the setting sun, sweet, in the green thorn bush; The soaring
515. Song-O let me in this ae night
O LASSIE, are ye sleepin yet, Or are ye waukin, I wad wit? For Love has bound me hand an’ fit, And I would fain be in, jo. Chorus.-O let me in this ae
252. Lines to John M'Murdo of Drumlanrig
O COULD I give thee India’s wealth, As I this trifle send; Because thy joy in both would be To share them with a friend. But golden sands did never grace The Heliconian stream;