THERE was a lass, and she was fa… At kirk or market to be seen; When a’ our fairest maids were met… The fairest maid was bonie Jean. And aye she wrought her mammie’s w…

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…

I MURDER hate by flood or field… Tho’ glory’s name may screen us; In wars at home I’ll spend my blo… Life-giving wars of Venus. The deities that I adore

DOES haughty Gaul invasion threa… Then let the louns beware, Sir; There’s wooden walls upon our seas… And volunteers on shore, Sir: The Nith shall run to Corsincon,

Now spring has clad the grove in g… And strew’d the lea wi’ flowers; The furrow’d, waving corn is seen Rejoice in fostering showers: While ilka thing in nature join

John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonny brow was brent; But now your brow is bled, John,

THOUGH fickle Fortune has decei… She pormis’d fair and perform’d bu… Of mistress, friends, and wealth b… Yet I bear a heart shall support… I’ll act with prudence as far 's…

O were my Love yon Lilack 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

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…

O THOU who kindly dost provide For every creature’s want! We bless Thee, God of Nature wid… For all Thy goodness lent: And if it please Thee, Heavenly…

Sweet are the banks– the banks o’… The spreading flowers are fair, And everything is blythe and glad, But I am fu’ o’ care. Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonie…

O I’ve walked o’er yon countries… Among Airlin’s braw lasses I’ve h… Comin’ hame in the mornins, fin I… Fin I wis a plooboy on Airlin’s f… O the first thing I did, fin I ga…

HAIL, Poesie! thou Nymph reserv… In chase o’ thee, what crowds hae… Frae common sense, or sunk enerv’d 'Mang heaps o’ clavers: And och! o’er aft thy joes hae sta…

Ye sons of old Killie, assembled… To follow the noble vocation; Your thrifty old mother has scarce… To sit in that honoured station. I’ve little to say, but only to pr…

THE GLOOMY night is gath’ring… Loud roars the wild, inconstant bl… Yon murky cloud is foul with rain, I see it driving o’er the plain; The hunter now has left the moor.