Farewell to the Highlands, farewe… The birth—place of Valour, the co… Wherever I wander, wherever I rov… The hills of the Highlands for ev… My heart’s in the Highlands, my h…

But lately seen in gladsome green The woods rejoic’d the day, Thro’ gentle showers, the laughing… In double pride were gay: But now our joys are fled

Fy, let us a’ to Kirkcudbright, For there will be bickerin’ there; For Murray’s light horse are to m… And O, how the heroes will swear! An’ there will be Murray commande…

THERE was once a day, but old T… That brave Caledonia, the chief o… From some of your northern deities… (Who knows not that brave Caledon… From Tweed to the Orcades was her…

Now simmer blinks on flow’ry braes… And o’er the crystal streamlet pla… Come, let us spend the lightsome d… In the birks of Aberfeldie! Bonnie lassie, will ye go,

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,

‘And send the godly in a pet to pr… O Thou, that in the heavens does… Wha, as it pleases best Thysel’, Sends ane to heaven an’ ten to hel… A’ for Thy glory,

Behind yon hills, where Lugar flo… 'Mang moors an’ mosses many, O, The wintry sun the day has clos’d, And I’ll awa to Nannie, O. The westlin wind blaws loud and sh…

THE BLUDE-RED rose at Yule m… The simmer lilies bloom in snaw, The frost may freeze the deepest s… But an auld man shall never daunto… Refrain.—To daunton me, to daunto…

WHAT dost thou in that mansion f… Flit, Galloway, and find Some narrow, dirty, dungeon cave, The picture of thy mind. ———No Stewart art thou, Galloway,

My love, she’s but a lassie yet, My love, she’s but a lassie yet! We’ll let her stand a year or twa, She’ll no be half sae saucy yet! I rue the day I sought her, O!

THOU flatt’ring mark of friendsh… Still may thy pages call to mind The dear, the beauteous donor; Tho’ sweetly female ev’ry part, Yet such a head, and more the hear…

My heart is a-breaking, dear Titt… Some counsel unto me come len’; To anger them a’ is a pity, But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen? I’m thinking, wi’ sic a braw fello…

O, were my love yon lilac fair Wi’ purple blossoms to the spring, And I a bird to shelter there, When wearied on my little wing. How I wad mourn when it was torn

CA’ the yowes to the knowes, Ca’ them where the heather grows, Ca’ them where the burnie rows, My bonnie dearie. Hark! the mavis’ evening sang