Wee, sleeket, cowran, tim’rous bea… O, what a panic’s in thy breastie! Thou need na start awa sae hasty, Wi’ bickerin brattle! I wad be laith to rin an’ chase th…

How can I keep my maidenhead, My maidenhead, my maidenhead; How can I keep my maidenhead, Among sae mony men, O. The Captain bad a guinea for’t,

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,

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…

WHILE at the stook the shearers… To shun the bitter blaudin’ show’r… Or in gulravage rinnin scowr To pass the time, To you I dedicate the hour

Loud blaw the frosty breezes, The snaws the mountains cover; Like winter on me seizes Since my young Highland rover Far wanders nations over.

Air—“Deil tak the wars.” Mark yonder pomp of costly fashion Round the wealthy, titled bride: But when compar’d with real passio… Poor is all that princely pride.

THE lovely lass o’ Inverness, Nae joy nor pleasure can she see; For e’en and morn she cries, ‘Ala… And aye the saut tear blin’s her e… 'Drumossie moor, Drumossie day,

Instead of a song, boys, I’ll giv… Here’s the memory of those on the… That we lost, did I say, nay, by… For their fame it shall last while… The next in succession, I’ll give…

Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed, The spot they ca’d it Linkumdoddi… Willie was a wabster guid Could stown a clue wi onie body. He had a wife was dour and din,

THERE’S Death in the cup, so be… Nay, more—there is danger in touch… But who can avoid the fell snare, The man and his wine’s so bewitchi…

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…

Let Loove Sparkle Ithers seek they kenna what, Features, carriage and a’ that; Gie me loove in her I court - Loove to loove maks a’ the sport.

Blythe hae I been on yon hill, As the lambs before me; Careless ilka thought and free, As the breeze flew o’er me: Now nae langer sport and play,

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,