Jamie, come try me, Jamie, come try me, If thou would win my love, Jamie, come try me. If thou should ask my love,

When biting Boreas, fell and dour… Sharp shivers thro’ the leafless b… When Phoebus gies a short—liv’d g… Far south the lift, Dim—dark’ning thro’ the flaky show…

AGAIN the silent wheels of time Their annual round have driven, And you, tho’ scarce in maiden pri… Are so much nearer Heaven. No gifts have I from Indian coast…

FOR thee is laughing Nature gay, For thee she pours the vernal day; For me in vain is Nature drest, While Joy’s a stranger to my brea…

Again rejoicing nature sees Her robe assume its vernal hues, Her leafy looks wave in the breeze… All freshly steep’d in morning dew… And maun I still on Menie doat,

YE true “Loyal Natives” attend t… In uproar and riot rejoice the nig… From Envy and Hatred your corps i… But where is your shield from the…

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

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 Januar’ wind was blawing cau… As to the north I took my way, The mirksome night did me enfauld, I knew na whare to lodge till day: By my gude luck a maid I met,

In Tarbolton, ye ken, there are p… And proper young lasses and a’, ma… But ken ye the Ronalds that live… They carry the gree frae them a’,… Their father’s laird, and weel he…

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,

A’ YE wha live by sowps o’ drink, A’ ye wha live by crambo-clink, A’ ye wha live and never think, Come, mourn wi’ me! Our billie 's gien us a’ a jink,

Out over the Forth, I look to the… But what is the North and its Hig… The South, nor the East, gie ease… The far foreign land, or the wide… But I look to the West, when I g…

HAS auld Kilmarnock seen the dei… Or great Mackinlay 1 thrawn his h… Or Robertson 2 again grown weel, To preach an’ read? “Na’ waur than a’! cries ilka chie…

Scots, wha 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: