Scots, what hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victorie! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;

FRAE the friends and land I love… Driv’n by Fortune’s felly spite; Frae my best belov’d I rove, Never mair to taste delight: Never mair maun hope to find

Is there for honesty poverty That hings his head, an’ a’ that; The coward slave - we pass him by, We dare be poor for a’ that! For a’ that, an’ a’ that,

ON Cessnock banks a lassie dwells… Could I describe her shape and me… Our lasses a’ she far excels, An’ she has twa sparkling roguish… She’s sweeter than the morning daw…

AS on the banks o’ wandering Nith… Ae smiling simmer morn I stray’d, And traced its bonie howes and hau… Where linties sang and lammies pla… I sat me down upon a craig,

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…

A ROSE-BUD by my early walk, Adown a corn-enclosed bawk, Sae gently bent its thorny stalk, All on a dewy morning. Ere twice the shades o’ dawn are f…

A’ THE lads o’ Thorniebank, When they gae to the shore o’ Buc… They’ll step in an’ tak a pint Wi’ Lady Onlie, honest Lucky. Chorus.'€”Lady Onlie, honest Luc…

OF all the numerous ills that hur… That press the soul, or wring the… Beyond comparison the worst are th… By our own folly, or our guilt bro… In ev’ry other circumstance, the m…

Inscribed to Robert Aiken, Es… Let not Ambition mock their usefu… Their homely joys and destiny obsc… Nor Grandeur hear with a disdainf… The short and simple annals of the…

O LADY Mary Ann looks o’er the… She saw three bonie boys playing a… The youngest he was the flower ama… My bonie laddie’s young, but he’s… O father, O father, an ye think i…

CURSE on ungrateful man, that ca… And yet can starve the author of t… O thou, my elder brother in misfor… By far my elder brother in the Mu… With tears I pity thy unhappy fat…

Oh wert thou in the cauld blast, On yonder lea, on yonder lea, My plaidie to the angry airt, I’d shelter thee, I’d shelter the… Or did misfortune’s bitter storms

My harry was a gallant gay, Fu’ stately strade he on the plain… But now he’s banish’d far away: I’ll never see him back again. Refrain: