9. The Ploughman's Life
AS I was a-wand’ring ae morning in spring, I heard a young ploughman sae sweetly to sing; And as he was singin’, thir words he did say,- There’s nae life like the ploughman’s in
126. Lines written on a Bank-note
WAE worth thy power, thou cursed leaf! Fell source o’ a’ my woe and grief! For lack o’ thee I’ve lost my lass! For lack o’ thee I scrimp my glass! I see the
174. The Bard at Inverary
WHOE’ER he be that sojourns here, I pity much his case, Unless he comes to wait upon The Lord their God, His Grace. There’s naething here but Highland pride, And Highland scab and hunger:
261. The Wounded Hare
INHUMAN man! curse on thy barb’rous art, And blasted be thy murder-aiming eye; May never pity soothe thee with a sigh, Nor ever pleasure glad thy cruel heart! Go live, poor wand’rer of the
236. Song-I Reign in Jeanie's Bosom
LOUIS, what reck I by thee, Or Geordie on his ocean? Dyvor, beggar louns to me, I reign in Jeanie’s bosom! Let her crown my love her law, And in her breast enthrone me,
134. Fragment of Song-The Night was Still
THE NIGHT was still, and o’er the hill The moon shone on the castle wa’; The mavis sang, while dew-drops hang Around her on the castle wa’; Sae merrily they danced the ring Frae
237. Song-It is na, Jean, thy Bonie Face
IT is na, Jean, thy bonie face, Nor shape that I admire; Altho’ thy beauty and thy grace Might weel awauk desire. Something, in ilka part o’ thee, To praise, to love, I find,
26. John Barleycorn: A Ballad
THERE was three kings into the east, Three kings both great and high, And they hae sworn a solemn oath John Barleycorn should die. They took a plough and plough’d him down, Put clods
155. Epistle to Mrs. Scott of Wauchope House
GUDEWIFE, I MIND it weel in early date, When I was bardless, young, and blate, An’ first could thresh the barn, Or haud a yokin’ at the pleugh; An, tho’ forfoughten sair eneugh, Yet
517. Song-O wat ye wha's in yon town
Chorus-O wat ye wha’s in yon town, Ye see the e’enin sun upon, The dearest maid’s in yon town, That e’ening sun is shining on. NOW haply down yon gay green shaw, She wanders
235. Song-The Fall of the Leaf
THE LAZY mist hangs from the brow of the hill, Concealing the course of the dark-winding rill; How languid the scenes, late so sprightly, appear! As Autumn to Winter resigns the pale year. The
373. Song-The Slave's Lament
IT was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthral, For the lands of Virginia,-ginia, O: Torn from that lovely shore, and must never see it more; And alas! I am weary, weary
264. Song-On a Bank of Flowers
ON a bank of flowers, in a summer day, For summer lightly drest, The youthful, blooming Nelly lay, With love and sleep opprest; When Willie, wand’ring thro’ the wood, Who for her favour oft
258. Epistle to James Tennant of Glenconner
AULD comrade dear, and brither sinner, How’s a’ the folk about Glenconner? How do you this blae eastlin wind, That’s like to blaw a body blind? For me, my faculties are frozen, My dearest
201. Birthday Ode for 31st December, 1787
AFAR 1 the illustrious Exile roams, Whom kingdoms on this day should hail; An inmate in the casual shed, On transient pity’s bounty fed, Haunted by busy memory’s bitter tale! Beasts of the forest