504. Apology to Mr. Syme for not dining with him
NO more of your guests, be they titled or not, And cookery the first in the nation; Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit, Is proof to all other temptation.
141. Tam Samson's Elegy
HAS auld Kilmarnock seen the deil? Or great Mackinlay 1 thrawn his heel? Or Robertson 2 again grown weel, To preach an’ read? “Na’ waur than a’! cries ilka chiel, “Tam Samson’s dead!” Kilmarnock
15. Winter: A Dirge
THE WINTRY west extends his blast, And hail and rain does blaw; Or the stormy north sends driving forth The blinding sleet and snaw: While, tumbling brown, the burn comes down, And roars frae
54. Man was made to Mourn: A Dirge
WHEN chill November’s surly blast Made fields and forests bare, One ev’ning, as I wander’d forth Along the banks of Ayr, I spied a man, whose aged step Seem’d weary, worn with care; His
387. Epigram on Miss Fontenelle
SWEET naïveté of feature, Simple, wild, enchanting elf, Not to thee, but thanks to Nature, Thou art acting but thyself. Wert thou awkward, stiff, affected, Spurning Nature, torturing art; Loves and Graces all rejected,
67. Epistle to John Goldie, in Kilmarnock
O GOWDIE, terror o’ the whigs, Dread o’ blackcoats and rev’rend wigs! Sour Bigotry, on her last legs, Girns an’ looks back, Wishing the ten Egyptian plagues May seize you quick. Poor gapin’, glowrin’
217. Song-The Lad they ca' Jumpin John
HER daddie forbad, her minnie forbad Forbidden she wadna be: She wadna trow’t the browst she brew’d, Wad taste sae bitterlie. Chorus.-The lang lad they ca’Jumpin John Beguil’d the bonie lassie, The lang lad
211. Song-My Hoggie
WHAT will I do gin my Hoggie die? My joy, my pride, my Hoggie! My only beast, I had nae mae, And vow but I was vogie! The lee-lang night we watch’d the fauld,
473. On Chloris requesting a sprig of blossom'd thorn
FROM the white-blossom’d sloe my dear Chloris requested A sprig, her fair breast to adorn: No, by Heavens! I exclaim’d, let me perish, if ever I plant in that bosom a thorn!
549. Epistle to Colonel de Peyster
MY honor’d Colonel, deep I feel Your interest in the Poet’s weal; Ah! now sma’ heart hae I to speel The steep Parnassus, Surrounded thus by bolus pill, And potion glasses. O what a
353. Poem on Sensibility
SENSIBILITY, how charming, Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell; But distress, with horrors arming, Thou alas! hast known too well! Fairest flower, behold the lily Blooming in the sunny ray: Let the blast sweep o’er
553. Song-O lay thy loof in mine, lass
Chorus-O lay thy loof in mine, lass, In mine, lass, in mine, lass; And swear on thy white hand, lass, That thou wilt be my ain. A SLAVE to Love’s unbounded sway, He aft
414. Impromptu on Dumourier's Desertion of the French Republican Army
YOU’RE welcome to Despots, Dumourier; You’re welcome to Despots, Dumourier: How does Dampiere do? Ay, and Bournonville too? Why did they not come along with you, Dumourier? I will fight France with you, Dumourier;
Ae Fond Kiss, And Then We Sever
Ae fond kiss, and then we sever; Ae fareweel, and then for ever! Deep in heart-wrung tears I’ll pledge thee, Warring sighs and groans I’ll wage thee. Who shall say that Fortune grieves him
80. The Jolly Beggars: A Cantata
RecitativoWHEN lyart leaves bestrow the yird, Or wavering like the bauckie-bird, Bedim cauld Boreas’ blast; When hailstanes drive wi’ bitter skyte, And infant frosts begin to bite, In hoary cranreuch drest; Ae night at