269. Song-Sweet Tibbie Dunbar
O WILT thou go wi’ me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar? O wilt thou go wi’ me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Wilt thou ride on a horse, or be drawn in a car, Or walk by my
207. Song-I'm O'er Young to Marry yet
Chorus.-I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young, I’m o’er young to marry yet; I’m o’er young, ‘twad be a sin To tak me frae my mammy yet. I AM my mammny’s ae bairn, Wi’ unco
209. Song-M'Pherson's Farewell
FAREWELL, ye dungeons dark and strong, The wretch’s destinie! M’Pherson’s time will not be long On yonder gallows-tree. Chorus.-Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, Sae dauntingly gaed he; He play’d a spring, and danc’d it round,
380. Song-Saw ye Bonie Lesley
O SAW ye bonie Lesley, As she gaed o’er the Border? She’s gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. To see her is to love her, And love but her for ever; For
191. Song-Theniel Menzies' Bonie Mary
IN comin by the brig o’ Dye, At Darlet we a blink did tarry; As day was dawnin in the sky, We drank a health to bonie Mary. Chorus.-Theniel Menzies’ bonie Mary, Theniel Menzies’
28. Poor Mailie's Elegy
LAMENT in rhyme, lament in prose, Wi’ saut tears trickling down your nose; Our bardie’s fate is at a close, Past a’ remead! The last, sad cape-stane o’ his woes; Poor Mailie’s dead! It’s
304. Song-I Murder hate
I MURDER hate by flood or field, Tho’ glory’s name may screen us; In wars at home I’ll spend my blood- Life-giving wars of Venus. The deities that I adore Are social Peace and
7. Ah, woe is me, my Mother dear
AH, woe is me, my mother dear! A man of strife ye’ve born me: For sair contention I maun bear; They hate, revile, and scorn me. I ne’er could lend on bill or band,
551. Ballad on Mr. Heron's Election-No. 4
WHA will buy my troggin, fine election ware, Broken trade o’ Broughton, a’ in high repair? Chorus.-Buy braw troggin frae the banks o’ Dee; Wha wants troggin let him come to me. There’s a
11. Song-Here's to thy health, my bonie lass
HERE’S to thy health, my bonie lass, Gude nicht and joy be wi’ thee; I’ll come nae mair to thy bower-door, To tell thee that I lo’e thee. O dinna think, my pretty pink,
331. Epigram at Brownhill Inn
AT 1 Brownhill we always get dainty good cheer, And plenty of bacon each day in the year; We’ve a’ thing that’s nice, and mostly in season, But why always Bacon-come, tell me a
283. Song-Willie brew'd a Peck o' Maut
O WILLIE 1 brew’d a peck o’ maut, And Rob and Allen cam to see; Three blyther hearts, that lee-lang night, Ye wadna found in Christendie. Chorus.-We are na fou, we’re nae that fou,
25. My Father was a Farmer: A Ballad
MY father was a farmer upon the Carrick border, O, And carefully he bred me in decency and order, O; He bade me act a manly part, though I had ne’er a farthing, O;
13. Song-Bonie Peggy Alison
Chor.-And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, And I’ll kiss thee o’er again: And I’ll kiss thee yet, yet, My bonie Peggy Alison. ILK care and fear, when thou art near I evermair defy them,
334. Song-Fragment-Damon and Sylvia
YON wandering rill that marks the hill, And glances o’er the brae, Sir, Slides by a bower, where mony a flower Sheds fragrance on the day, Sir; There Damon lay, with Sylvia gay, To
74. Fragment-Her Flwoing Locks
HER flowing locks, the raven’s wing, Adown her neck and bosom hing; How sweet unto that breast to cling, And round that neck entwine her! Her lips are roses wat wi’ dew, O’ what
338. Song-My Tocher's the Jewel
O MEIKLE thinks my luve o’ my beauty, And meikle thinks my luve o’ my kin; But little thinks my luve I ken brawlie My tocher’s the jewel has charms for him. It’s a’
547. Verses to Collector Mitchell
FRIEND of the Poet, tried and leal, Wha, wanting thee, might beg or steal; Alake, alake, the meikle deil Wi’ a’ his witches Are at it skelpin jig and reel, In my poor pouches?
350. Epistle to John Maxwell, Esq., of Terraughty
HEALTH to the Maxwell’s veteran Chief! Health, aye unsour’d by care or grief: Inspir’d, I turn’d Fate’s sibyl leaf, This natal morn, I see thy life is stuff o’ prief, Scarce quite half-worn. This
395. Sonnet on the Author's Birthday
SING on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to thy strain, See aged Winter, ‘mid his surly reign, At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow. So in
Fareweel To A'Our Scottish Fame
Fareweel to a’ our Scottish fame, Fareweel our ancient glory; Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish name, Sae famed in martial story! Now Sark rins over Solway sands, And Tweed rins to the ocean, To
66. Elegy on the Death of Robert Ruisseaux
NOW Robin 1 lies in his last lair, He’ll gabble rhyme, nor sing nae mair; Cauld poverty, wi’ hungry stare, Nae mair shall fear him; Nor anxious fear, nor cankert care, E’er mair come
164. Song-A Bottle and Friend
HERE’S a bottle and an honest friend! What wad ye wish for mair, man? Wha kens, before his life may end, What his share may be o’ care, man? Then catch the moments as
421. Epitaph on a Lap-dog
IN wood and wild, ye warbling throng, Your heavy loss deplore; Now, half extinct your powers of song, Sweet Echo is no more. Ye jarring, screeching things around, Scream your discordant joys; Now, half
8. Song-Montgomerie's Peggy
ALTHO’ my bed were in yon muir, Amang the heather, in my plaidie; Yet happy, happy would I be, Had I my dear Montgomerie’s Peggy. When o’er the hill beat surly storms, And winter
69. Third Epistle to J. Lapraik
GUID speed and furder to you, Johnie, Guid health, hale han’s, an’ weather bonie; Now, when ye’re nickin down fu’ cannie The staff o’ bread, May ye ne’er want a stoup o’ bran’y To
425. Song-Had I a cave
HAD I a cave on some wild distant shore, Where the winds howl to the wave’s dashing roar: There would I weep my woes, There seek my lost repose, Till grief my eyes should
441. Complimentary Epigram to Mrs. Riddell
“PRAISE Woman still,” his lordship roars, “Deserv’d or not, no matter?” But thee, whom all my soul adores, Ev’n Flattery cannot flatter: Maria, all my thought and dream, Inspires my vocal shell; The more
143. Fragment on Sensibility
RUSTICITY’S ungainly form May cloud the highest mind; But when the heart is nobly warm, The good excuse will find. Propriety’s cold, cautious rules Warm fervour may o’erlook: But spare poor sensibility Th’ ungentle,
21. Fickle Fortune: A Fragment
THOUGH fickle Fortune has deceived me, She pormis’d fair and perform’d but ill; Of mistress, friends, and wealth bereav’d me, Yet I bear a heart shall support me still. I’ll act with prudence as
12. Song-The Lass of Cessnock Banks
ON Cessnock banks a lassie dwells; Could I describe her shape and mein; Our lasses a’ she far excels, An’ she has twa sparkling roguish een. She’s sweeter than the morning dawn, When rising
56. Epistle to Davie, A Brother Poet
WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw, An’ bar the doors wi’ driving snaw, An’ hing us owre the ingle, I set me down to pass the time, An’ spin a verse or twa o’
109. My Highland Lassie, O
NAE gentle dames, tho’ e’er sae fair, Shall ever be my muse’s care: Their titles a’ arc empty show; Gie me my Highland lassie, O. Chorus.-Within the glen sae bushy, O, Aboon the plain
298. Prologue spoken at the Theatre of Dumfries
NO song nor dance I bring from yon great city, That queens it o’er our taste-the more’s the pity: Tho’ by the bye, abroad why will you roam? Good sense and taste are natives
382. Song-I'll meet thee on the Lea Rig
WHEN o’er the hill the eastern star Tells bughtin time is near, my jo, And owsen frae the furrow’d field Return sae dowf and weary O; Down by the burn, where birken buds Wi’