Chorus-Here’s a health to ane I loe dear, Here’s a health to ane I loe dear; Thou art sweet as the smile when fond lovers meet, And soft as their parting tear-Jessy. ALTHO’ thou
ALL hail! inexorable lord! At whose destruction-breathing word, The mightiest empires fall! Thy cruel, woe-delighted train, The ministers of grief and pain, A sullen welcome, all! With stern-resolv’d, despairing eye, I see each aimèd
WHILE virgin Spring by Eden’s flood, Unfolds her tender mantle green, Or pranks the sod in frolic mood, Or tunes Eolian strains between. While Summer, with a matron grace, Retreats to Dryburgh’s cooling shade,
Farewell to the Highlands, farewell to the North, The birth-place of Valour, the country of Worth; Wherever I wander, wherever I rove, The hills of the Highlands for ever I love. My heart’s in
KEN ye aught o’ Captain Grose?-Igo, and ago, If he’s amang his friends or foes?-Iram, coram, dago. Is he to Abra’m’s bosom gane?-Igo, and ago, Or haudin Sarah by the wame?-Iram, coram dago. Is
WHEN Guilford good our pilot stood An’ did our hellim thraw, man, Ae night, at tea, began a plea, Within America, man: Then up they gat the maskin-pat, And in the sea did jaw,
CURSE on ungrateful man, that can be pleased, And yet can starve the author of the pleasure. O thou, my elder brother in misfortune, By far my elder brother in the Muses, With tears
BEHOLD, my love, how green the groves, The primrose banks how fair; The balmy gales awake the flowers, And wave thy flowing hair. The lav’rock shuns the palace gay, And o’er the cottage sings:
I HAE a wife of my ain, I’ll partake wi’ naebody; I’ll take Cuckold frae nane, I’ll gie Cuckold to naebody. I hae a penny to spend, There-thanks to naebody! I hae naething to
ADMIRING Nature in her wildest grace, These northern scenes with weary feet I trace; O’er many a winding dale and painful steep, Th’ abodes of covey’d grouse and timid sheep, My savage journey, curious,
THERE was a bonie lass, and a bonie, bonie lass, And she lo’ed her bonie laddie dear; Till War’s loud alarms tore her laddie frae her arms, Wi’ mony a sigh and tear. Over
THE DAY returns, my bosom burns, The blissful day we twa did meet: Tho’ winter wild in tempest toil’d, Ne’er summer-sun was half sae sweet. Than a’ the pride that loads the tide, And
THOU, Nature, partial Nature, I arraign; Of thy caprice maternal I complain. The peopled fold thy kindly care have found, The hornèd bull, tremendous, spurns the ground; The lordly lion has enough and more,
O Mary, at thy window be, It is the wished, the trysted hour! Those smiles and glances let me see, That make the miser’s treasure poor: How blythely wad I bide the stour, A
O saw ye bonnie 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