The Author’s Only Pet Yowe An Unco Mournfu’ Tale As Mailie, an’ her lambs thegithe… Was ae day nibbling on the tether, Upon her cloot she coost a hitch,

THERE’S news, lassies, news, Gude news I’ve to tell! There’s a boatfu’ o’ lads Come to our town to sell. Chorus.—The wean wants a cradle,

HAD I a cave on some wild distan… Where the winds howl to the wave’s… There would I weep my woes, There seek my lost repose, Till grief my eyes should close,

LATE crippl’d of an arm, and now… About to beg a pass for leave to b… Dull, listless, teas’d, dejected,… (Nature is adverse to a cripple’s… Will generous Graham list to his…

HAIL, thairm-inspirin’, rattlin’… Tho’ fortune’s road be rough an’ h… To every fiddling, rhyming billie, We never heed, But take it like the unback’d fill…

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,

Scots, what hae wi’ Wallace bled, Scots, wham Bruce has aften led, Welcome to your gory bed, Or to victorie! Now’s the day, and now’s the hour;

When o’er the hill the eastern sta… Tells bughtin-time is near, my jo, And owsen frae the furrow’d field Return sae dowf and weary O; Down by the burn where scented bir…

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…

TO you, sir, this summons I’ve se… Pray, whip till the pownie is frea… But if you demand what I want, I honestly answer you—naething. Ne’er scorn a poor Poet like me,

IN se’enteen hunder’n forty-nine, The deil gat stuff to mak a swine, An’ coost it in a corner; But wilily he chang’d his plan, An’ shap’d it something like a man…

YOUR News and Review, sir. I’ve read through and through, sir… With little admiring or blaming; The Papers are barren Of home-news or foreign,

Ask why God made the gem so small… And why so huge the granite?— Because God meant mankind should… That higher value on it.

Oppress’d with grief, oppress’d wi… A burden more than I can bear, I set me down and sigh: O life! thou art a galling load, Along a rough, a weary road,

AULD chuckie Reekie’s 1 sair dis… Down droops her ance weel burnish’… Nae joy her bonie buskit nest Can yield ava, Her darling bird that she lo’es be…