AN HONEST man here lies at res… As e’er God with his image blest; The friend of man, the friend of t… The friend of age, and guide of yo… Few hearts like his, with virtue w…

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,

On Cessnock banks a lassie dwells… Could I describe her shape and mi… Our lasses a’ she far excels—— An she has twa sparkling, rogueish… She’s sweeter than the morning daw…

WHAT needs this din about the to… How this new play an’ that new san… Why is outlandish stuff sae meikle… Does nonsense mend, like brandy, w… Is there nae poet, burning keen fo…

BLESS Jesus Christ, O Cardones… With grateful, lifted eyes, Who taught that not the soul alone… But body too shall rise; For had He said “the soul alone

Ye sons of old Killie, assembled… To follow the noble vocation; Your thrifty old mother has scarce… To sit in that honoured station. I’ve little to say, but only to pr…

It was upon a Lammas night, When corn rigs are bonie, Beneath the moon’s unclouded light… I held awa to Annie: The time flew by, wi’ tentless hee…

TO Riddell, much lamented man, This ivied cot was dear; Wandr’er, dost value matchless wor… This ivied cot revere.

The gloomy night is gath’ring fast… Loud roars the wild inconstant bla… Yon murky cloud is filled with rai… I see it driving o’er the plain; The hunter now has left the moor,

I lang hae thought, my youthfu’ fr… A something to have sent you, Tho’ it should serve nae ither end Than just a kind momento: But how the subject—theme may gang…

Now Nature hangs her mantle green On every blooming tree, And spreads her sheets o’ daises w… Out o’er the grassy lea Now Pheebus cheers the crystal st…

WHILE winds frae aff Ben-Lomond… An’ bar the doors wi’ driving snaw… An’ hing us owre the ingle, I set me down to pass the time, An’ spin a verse or twa o’ rhyme,

Upon that night, when fairies ligh… On Cassilis Downans dance, Or owre the lays, in splendid blaz… On sprightly coursers prance; Or for Colean the route is ta’en,

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,