Here’s a health to them that’s awa… Here’s a health to them that’s awa And wha winna wish guid luck to ou… May never guid luck be their fa’! It’s guid to be merry and wise,

My curse upon your venom’d stang, That shoots my tortur’d gums alang… And thro’ my lugs gies mony a twan… Wi’ gnawing vengeance; Tearing my nerves wi’ bitter pang,

Wae is my heart, and the tear’s in… Lang lang Joy’s been a stranger t… Forsaken and friendless, my burden… And the sweet voice o’ Pity ne’er… Love thou hast pleasures, and deep…

SENSIBILITY, how charming, Dearest Nancy, thou canst tell; But distress, with horrors arming, Thou alas! hast known too well! Fairest flower, behold the lily

NO churchman am I for to rail and… No statesman nor soldier to plot o… No sly man of business contriving… For a big-belly’d bottle’s the who… The peer I don’t envy, I give him…

OF all the numerous ills that hur… That press the soul, or wring the… Beyond comparison the worst are th… By our own folly, or our guilt bro… In ev’ry other circumstance, the m…

ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire, And waste my soul with care; But ah! how bootless to admire, When fated to despair! Yet in thy presence, lovely Fair,

Gane is the day, and mirk’s the ni… But we’ll ne’er stray for faut o’… Gude ale and bratdy’s stars and mo… And blue-red wine’s the risin’ sun… Chorus.—Then gudewife, count the…

The heather was blooming, the mead… Our lads gaed a-hunting ae day at… O’er moors and o’er mosses and mon… At length they discover’d a bonie… Chorus.-I rede you, beware at the…

Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary… And leave auld Scotia’s shore; Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary… Across th’ Atlantic roar. O sweet grows the lime and the ora…

LONE on the bleaky hills the str… Shun the fierce storms among the s… Down from the rivulets, red with d… The gathering floods burst o’er th… Beneath the blast the leafless for…

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…

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

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…