Here lies John Bushby—honest man, Cheat him, Devil—if you can!

The Couper o’ Cuddy came here awa… He ca’d the girrs out o’er us a’; An’ our gudewife has gotten a ca’, That’s anger’d the silly gudeman… We’ll hide the Couper behint the…

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,

My mither sent me tae the moss For to gaither peats and dross. I cowpit the cairt and hanged the… An whistle ow’r the lave o’t. My mither sent me tae the well

KILMARNOCK wabsters, fidge an… An’ pour your creeshie nations; An’ ye wha leather rax an’ draw, Of a’ denominations; Swith to the Ligh Kirk, ane an’ a…

Nae gentle dames, tho’ e’er sae fa… Shall ever be my muse’s care; Their titles a’ are empty show; Gie me my Highland Lassie, O. Within the glen sae bushy, O,

YOU’RE welcome to Despots, Dumo… You’re welcome to Despots, Dumour… How does Dampiere do? Ay, and Bournonville too? Why did they not come along with y…

Nae lark in transport mounts the s… Or leaves wi’ early plaintive cry, But I will bid a last good—bye, My last farewell to Stirling O. Chorus:

'TIS Friendship’s pledge, my you… Nor thou the gift refuse, Nor with unwilling ear attend The moralising Muse. Since thou, in all thy youth and c…

Ye gallants bright, I rede you ri… Beware o’ bonie Ann; Her comely face sae fu’ o’ grace, Your heart she will trepan: Her een sae bright, like stars by…

At a relic aul’ croft upon the hil… Roon the neuk frae Sprottie’s mil… Tryin’ a’ his life tae jine the ki… Lived Geordie MacIntyre. He had a wife as sweir’s himsel’

O HAD each Scot of ancient times Been, Jeanie Scott, as thou art; The bravest heart on English grou… Had yielded like a coward.

AMONG the heathy hills and ragge… The roaring Fyers pours his mossy… Till full he dashes on the rocky m… Where, thro’ a shapeless breach, h… As high in air the bursting torren…

Hear, Land o’ Cakes, and brither… Frae Maidenkirk to Johnie Groat’… If there’s a hole in a’ your coats… I rede you tent it: A chield’s amang you takin notes,

O Thou dread Pow’r, who reign’st… I know Thou wilt me hear; When for this scene of peace and l… I make this pray’r sincere. The hoary Sire– the mortal stroke…