BY all I lov’d, neglected and for… No friendly face e’er lights my sq… Shunn’d, hated, wrong’d, unpitied,… The mock’d quotation of the scorne… Ev’n the poor súpport of my wretch…

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…

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…

O SAW ye bonnie Lesley As she gaed o’er the Border? She 's gane, like Alexander, To spread her conquests farther. To see her is to love her,

THOU, who thy honour as thy God… Who, save thy mind’s reproach, nou… To thee this votive offering I im… The tearful tribute of a broken he… The Friend thou valued’st, I, the…

I dream’d I lay where flowers wer… Gaily in the sunny beam; List’ning to the wild birds singin… By a falling crystal stream: Straight the sky grew black and da…

THE NIGHT was still, and o’er… The moon shone on the castle wa’; The mavis sang, while dew-drops ha… Around her on the castle wa’; Sae merrily they danced the ring

My mither sent me tae the moss For to gaither peats and dross. I cowpit the cairt and hanged the… An whistle ow’r the lave o’t. My mither sent me tae the well

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,

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,

AE day, as Death, that gruesome c… Was driving to the tither warl’ A mixtie-maxtie motley squad, And mony a guilt-bespotted lad— Black gowns of each denomination,

But lately seen in gladsome green The woods rejoic’d the day, Thro’ gentle showers, the laughing… In double pride were gay: But now our joys are fled

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…

AS cauld a wind as ever blew, A cauld kirk, an in’t but few: As cauld a minister’s e’er spak; Ye’se a’ be het e’er I come back.

KEMBLE, thou cur’st my unbelief For Moses and his rod; At Yarico’s sweet nor of grief The rock with tears had flow’d.