459. Sonnet on the Death of Robert Riddell
NO more, ye warblers of the wood! no more; Nor pour your descant grating on my soul; Thou young-eyed Spring! gay in thy verdant stole, More welcome were to me grim Winter’s wildest roar.
51. On Tam the Chapman
AS Tam the chapman on a day, Wi’Death forgather’d by the way, Weel pleas’d, he greets a wight so famous, And Death was nae less pleas’d wi’ Thomas, Wha cheerfully lays down his pack,
99. To a Louse
HA! whaur ye gaun, ye crowlin ferlie? Your impudence protects you sairly; I canna say but ye strunt rarely, Owre gauze and lace; Tho’, faith! I fear ye dine but sparely On sic a
251. Impromptu Lines to Captain Riddell
YOUR News and Review, sir. I’ve read through and through, sir, With little admiring or blaming; The Papers are barren Of home-news or foreign, No murders or rapes worth the naming. Our friends, the
144. A Winter Night
WHEN biting Boreas, fell and dour, Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless bow’r; When Phoebus gies a short-liv’d glow’r, Far south the lift, Dim-dark’ning thro’ the flaky show’r, Or whirling drift: Ae night the storm
266. Song-The Banks of Nith
THE THAMES flows proudly to the sea, Where royal cities stately stand; But sweeter flows the Nith to me, Where Comyns ance had high command. When shall I see that honour’d land, That winding
173. Elegy on Stella
STRAIT is the spot and green the sod From whence my sorrows flow; And soundly sleeps the ever dear Inhabitant below. Pardon my transport, gentle shade, While o’er the turf I bow; Thy earthy
447. Song-A red, red Rose
O MY Luve’s like a red, red rose, That’s newly sprung in June: O my Luve’s like the melodie, That’s sweetly play’d in tune. As fair art thou, my bonie lass, So deep in
297. Election Ballad for Westerha'
THE LADDIES by the banks o’ Nith Wad trust his Grace 1 wi a’, Jamie; But he’ll sair them, as he sair’d the King- Turn tail and rin awa’, Jamie. Chorus.-Up and waur them
423. Epigram on the Laird of Laggan
WHEN Morine, deceas’d, to the Devil went down, ВЂ™Twas nothing would serve him but Satan’s own crown; ВЂњThy fool’s head, ” quoth Satan, “that crown shall wear never, I grant thou’rt as wicked, but
255. Verses to Miss Cruickshank
BEAUTEOUS Rosebud, young and gay, Blooming in thy early May, Never may’st thou, lovely flower, Chilly shrink in sleety shower! Never Boreas’ hoary path, Never Eurus’ pois’nous breath, Never baleful stellar lights, Taint thee
10. The Ronalds of the Bennals
IN Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men, And proper young lasses and a’, man; But ken ye the Ronalds that live in the Bennals, They carry the gree frae them a’, man.
481. Epigram on Andrew Turner
IN se’enteen hunder’n forty-nine, The deil gat stuff to mak a swine, An’ coost it in a corner; But wilily he chang’d his plan, An’ shap’d it something like a man, An’ ca’d it
140. Masonic Song-Ye Sons of Old Killie
YE sons of old Killie, assembled by Willie, To follow the noble vocation; Your thrifty old mother has scarce such another To sit in that honoured station. I’ve little to say, but only to
156. Verses inscribed under a Noble Earl's Picture
WHOSE 1 is that noble, dauntless brow? And whose that eye of fire? And whose that generous princely mien, E’en rooted foes admire? Stranger! to justly show that brow, And mark that eye of