Thou’s welcome, wean; mishanter fa… If thoughts o’ thee, or yet thy ma… Shall ever daunton me or awe me, My sweet wee lady, Or if I blush when thou shalt ca’…

DEAR SIR, at ony time or tide, I’d rather sit wi’ you than ride, Though 'twere wi’ royal Geordie: And trowth, your kindness, soon an… Aft gars me to mysel’ look blate—

‘Wha is that at my bower—door?’ ‘O wha is it but Findlay!’ 'Then gae your gate, ye’se nae be… ‘Indeed maun I,’ quo’ Findlay; 'What mak’ ye, sae like a thief?'

WHILE new-ca’d kye rowte at the… An’ pownies reek in pleugh or brai… This hour on e’enin’s edge I take… To own I’m debtor To honest-hearted, auld Lapraik,

THOUGH fickle Fortune has decei… She pormis’d fair and perform’d bu… Of mistress, friends, and wealth b… Yet I bear a heart shall support… I’ll act with prudence as far 's…

Wha is that at my bower-door? O wha is it but Findlay; Then gae your gate, ye’se nae be h… Indeed maun I, quo’ Findlay. What mak ye, sae like a thief?

When Januar’ wind was blawing cau… As to the north I took my way, The mirksome night did me enfauld, I knew na whare to lodge till day: By my gude luck a maid I met,

O THOU unknown, Almighty Cause Of all my hope and fear! In whose dread presence, ere an ho… Perhaps I must appear! If I have wander’d in those paths

THOU greybeard, old Wisdom! may… Give me with young Folly to live; I grant thee thy calm-blooded, tim… But Folly has raptures to give.

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 a whim-inspired fool, Owre fast for thought, owre hot fo… Owre blate to seek, owre proud to… Let him draw near; And owre this grassy heap sing doo…

NO more, ye warblers of the wood!… Nor pour your descant grating on m… Thou young-eyed Spring! gay in th… More welcome were to me grim Wint… How can ye charm, ye flowers, with…

Bonie wee thing, cannie wee thing, Lovely wee thing, wert thou mine, I wad wear thee in my bosom, Lest my jewel it should tine. Wishfully I look and languish

’Twas on a Monday morning, Right early in the year, That Charlie came to our town, The young Chevalier. An’ Charlie, he’s my darling,

Wee Willie Gray, and his leather… Peel a willow wand to be him boots… The rose upon the breir will be hi… The rose upon the breir will be hi… Wee Willie Gray, and his leather…