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…

With secret throes I marked that… That cottage, witness of my birth; And near I saw, bold issuing fort… In youthful pride, A Lindsay race of noble worth,

Chorus.'€”Jamie, come try me, Jamie, come try me, If thou would win my love, Jamie, come try me. IF thou should ask my love,

In Tarbolton, ye ken, there are p… And proper young lasses and a’, ma… But ken ye the Ronalds that live… They carry the gree frae them a’,… Their father’s laird, and weel he…

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…

BLESS Jesus Christ, O Cardones… With grateful, lifted eyes, Who taught that not the soul alone… But body too shall rise; For had He said “the soul alone

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…

Ye banks, and braes, and streams a… The castle o’ Montgomery, Green be your woods, and fair your… Your waters never drumlie! There Simmer first unfald her rob…

‘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?'

Wee, modest, crimson—tippèd flow’r… Thou’s met me in an evil hour; For I maun crush amang the stoure Thy slender stem: To spare thee now is past my pow’r…

1 Ca’ the yowes to the knowes, 2 Ca’ them where the heather g… 3 Ca’ them where the burnie ro… 4 My bonie dearie. 5 Hark! the mavis’ evening san…

AS cauld a wind as ever blew, A cauld kirk, an in’t but few: As cauld a minister’s e’er spak; Ye’se a’ be het e’er I come back.

Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw I dearly like the west, For there the bonie lassie lives, The lassie I lo’e best. There wild woods grow and rivers r…

MUSING on the roaring ocean, Which divides my love and me; Wearying heav’n in warm devotion, For his weal where’er he be. Hope and Fear’s alternate billow

As I was a—wand’ring ae morning i… I heard a young ploughman sae swee… And as he was singin’, thir words… There’s nae life like the ploughma… The lav’rock in the morning she’ll…