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…

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,

THERE was a wife wonn’d in Cock… Scroggam; She brew’d gude ale for gentlemen; Sing auld Cowl lay ye down by me, Scroggam, my dearie, ruffum.

BLEST be M’Murdo to his latest… No envious cloud o’ercast his even… No wrinkle, furrow’d by the hand o… Nor ever sorrow add one silver hai… O may no son the father’s honour s…

Green grow the rashes, O! Green grow the rashes, O! The sweetest hours that e’er I sp… Are spent amang the lasses, O! There’s nought but care on every h…

Sweet fa’s the eve on Craigieburn… And blythe awakens the morrow, But a’ the pride o’ spring’s retur… Can yield me nocht but sorrow. I see the flowers and spreading tr…

O gude ale comes and gude ale goes… Gude ale gars me sell my hose, Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon, Gude ale keeps my heart aboon. I had sax owsen in a pleugh,

O, wilt thou go wi’ me, Sweet Tibbie Dunbar? O, wilt thou go wi’ me, Sweet Tibbie Dunbar? Wilt thou ride on a horse,

WHEN Guilford good our pilot sto… An’ did our hellim thraw, man, Ae night, at tea, began a plea, Within America, man: Then up they gat the maskin-pat,

The winter it is past, and the sum… And the small birds, they sing on… Now ev’ry thing is glad, while I… Since my true love is parted from… The rose upon the breer, by the wa…

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’

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,

Farewell, ye dungeons dark and str… The wretch’s destinie! M’Pherson’s time will not be long On yonder gallows—tree. Chorus:

My love, she’s but a lassie yet, My love, she’s but a lassie yet! We’ll let her stand a year or twa, She’ll no be half sae saucy yet! I rue the day I sought her, O!

1 Upon a simmer Sunday morn, 2 When Nature’s face is fai… 3 I walked forth to view the cor… 4 An’ snuff the caller air. 5 The risin’ sun owre Galston m…