THERE 1 was a lad was born in K… But whatna day o’ whatna style, I doubt it’s hardly worth the whil… To be sae nice wi’ Robin. Chor.—Robin was a rovin’ boy,

O DEATH! thou tyrant fell and b… The meikle devil wi’ a woodie Haurl thee hame to his black smidd… O’er hurcheon hides, And like stock-fish come o’er his…

O Thou dread Power, who reign’st… I know thou wilt me hear, When for this scene of peace and l… I make this prayer sincere. The hoary Sire —the mortal stroke…

O THOU, in whom we live and move… Who made the sea and shore; Thy goodness constantly we prove, And grateful would adore; And, if it please Thee, Power abo…

BY Allan stream I chanc’d to rov… While Phoebus sank beyond Benledi… The winds are whispering thro’ the… The yellow corn was waving ready: I listen’d to a lover’s sang,

O Thou! whatever title suit thee— Auld Hornie, Satan, Nick, or Clo… Wha in yon cavern grim an’ sootie, Clos’d under hatches, Spairges about the brunstane cooti…

O HOW shall I, unskilfu’, try The poet’s occupation? The tunefu’ powers, in happy hours… That whisper inspiration; Even they maun dare an effort mair

THE WIND blew hollow frae the h… By fits the sun’s departing beam Look’d on the fading yellow woods, That wav’d o’er Lugar’s winding s… Beneath a craigy steep, a Bard,

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

Chorus.'€”Carle, an the King come… Carle, an the King come, Thou shalt dance and I will sing, Carle, an the King come. AN SOMEBODY were come again,

Last May a braw wooer cam down th… And sair wi’ his love he did deave… I said there was naething I hated… The deuce gae wi ‘m to believe me,… The deuce gae wi ’m to believe me.

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…

WILLIE WASTLE dwalt on Tweed… The spot they ca’d it Linkumdoddi… Willie was a wabster gude, Could stown a clue wi’ ony body: He had a wife was dour and din,

Sleep’st thou, or wak’st thou, fai… Rosy morn now lifts his eye, Numbering ilka bud which Nature Waters wi’ the tears o’ joy. Now, to the streaming fountain,

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,