Loud blaw the frosty breezes, The snaws the mountains cover; Like winter on me seizes Since my young Highland rover Far wanders nations over.

I lang hae thought, my youthfu’ fr… A something to have sent you, Tho’ it should serve nae ither end Than just a kind momento: But how the subject—theme may gang…

If ye gae up to yon hill—tap, Ye’ll there see bonie Peggy; She kens her father is a laird, And she forsooth’s a leddy. There Sophy tight, a lassie brigh…

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;

LET not Woman e’er complain Of inconstancy in love; Let not Woman e’er complain Fickle Man is apt to rove: Look abroad thro’ Nature’s range,

O stay, sweet warbling wood—lark,… Nor quit for me the trembling spra… A hapless lover courts thy lay, Thy soothing fond complaining. Again, again that tender part,

My mither sent me tae the moss For to gaither peats and dross. I cowpit the cairt and hanged the… An whistle ow’r the lave o’t. My mither sent me tae the well

NOW Nature hangs her mantle gree… On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o’ daisies… Out o’er the grassy lea; Now Phoebus cheers the crystal st…

AS I stood by yon roofless tower, Where the wa’flower scents the dew… Where the howlet mourns in her ivy… And tells the midnight moon her ca… The winds were laid, the air was s…

THE SMILING Spring comes in r… And surly Winter grimly flies; Now crystal clear are the falling… And bonie blue are the sunny skies… Fresh o’er the mountains breaks fo…

O DEATH, had’st thou but spar’d… Whom we this day lament, We freely wad exchanged the wife, And a’ been weel content. Ev’n as he is, cauld in his graff,

SHREWD Willie Smellie to Croch… The old cock’d hat, the grey surto… His bristling beard just rising in… 'Twas four long nights and days to… His uncomb’d grizzly locks, wild s…

By yon Castle wa’, at the close o… I heard a man sing tho’ his head i… And as he was singing, the tears d… There’ll never be peace till Jami… The Church is in ruins, the State…

Why, why tell thy lover Bliss he never must enjoy? Why, why undeceive him, And give all his hopes the lie? O why, while fancy, raptur’d slumb…

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,