It was a’ for our rightful king That we left fair Scotland’s stra… It was a’ for our rightful king We e’er saw Irish land, My dear,

FAREWEEL to a’ our Scottish fa… Fareweel our ancient glory; Fareweel ev’n to the Scottish nam… Sae fam’d in martial story. Now Sark rins over Solway sands,

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…

Inscribed to Robert Aiken, Esq. 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…

WHEN first my brave Johnie lad c… He had a blue bonnet that wanted t… But now he has gotten a hat and a… Hey, brave Johnie lad, cock up yo… Cock up your beaver, and cock it f…

BEHOLD the hour, the boat, arri… My dearest Nancy, O fareweel! Severed frae thee, can I survive, Frae thee whom I hae lov’d sae we… Endless and deep shall be my grief…

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. Chorus.'€”O for him back again!

It was upon a Lammas night, When corn rigs are bonnie, Beneath the moon’s unclouded light… I held away to Annie: The time flew by wi’ tentless heed

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,

WHAT needs this din about the to… How this new play an’ that new san… Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle… Does nonsense mend, like brandy, w… Is there nae poet, burning keen fo…

A Song of Similes Tune —‘If he be a Butcher neat an… On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells… Could I describe her shape and me… Our lasses a’ she far excels,

FINTRY, my stay in wordly strif… Friend o’ my muse, friend o’ my li… Are ye as idle’s I am? Come then, wi’ uncouth kintra fleg… O’er Pegasus I’ll fling my leg,

Among the heathy hills and ragged… The roaring Fyers pours his mossy… Till full he dashes on the rocky m… Where, thro’ a shapeless breach, h… As high in air the bursting torren…

Fair Empress of the poet’s soul, And Queen of poetesses; Clarinda, take this little boon, This humble pair of glasses: And fill them up with generous jui…