Chorus.-O lovely Polly Stewart, O charming Polly Stewart, There’s ne’er a flower that blooms… That’s half so fair as thou art! The flower it blaws, it fades, it…

AS on the banks o’ wandering Nith… Ae smiling simmer morn I stray’d, And traced its bonie howes and hau… Where linties sang and lammies pla… I sat me down upon a craig,

Wishfully I look and languish In that bonie face o’ thine, And my heart it sounds wi’ anguish… Lest my wee thing be na mine. [Chorus] Bonie wee thing, cannie…

Here lies John Bushby—honest man, Cheat him, Devil—if you can!

SING on, sweet thrush, upon the… Sing on, sweet bird, I listen to… See aged Winter, 'mid his surly r… At thy blythe carol, clears his fu… So in lone Poverty’s dominion dre…

O Kenmure’s on and awa, Willie, O Kenmure’s on and awa: An’ Kenmure’s lord’s the bravest… That ever Galloway saw. Success to Kenmure’s band, Willie…

THOUGH fickle Fortune has decei… She pormis’d fair and perform’d bu… Of mistress, friends, and wealth b… Yet I bear a heart shall support… I’ll act with prudence as far 's…

Here’s a health to ane I lo’e dea… Here’s a health to ane I lo’e dea… Thou art sweet as the smile when f… And soft as their parting tear– J… Although thou maun never be mine,

HAIL, Poesie! thou Nymph reserv… In chase o’ thee, what crowds hae… Frae common sense, or sunk enerv’d 'Mang heaps o’ clavers: And och! o’er aft thy joes hae sta…

HE who of Rankine sang, lies stif… And a green grassy hillock hides h… Alas! alas! a devilish change inde…

By yon Castle wa’, at the close o… I heard a man sing tho’ his head i… And as he was singing, the tears d… There’ll never be peace till Jami… The Church is in ruins, the State…

ALTHO’ my back be at the wa’, And tho’ he be the fautor; Altho’ my back be at the wa’, Yet, here’s his health in water. O wae gae by his wanton sides,

HEALTH to the Maxwell’s vetera… Health, aye unsour’d by care or gr… Inspir’d, I turn’d Fate’s sibyl l… This natal morn, I see thy life is stuff o’ prief,

GO fetch to me a pint o’ wine, An’ fill it in a silver tassie, That I may drink, before I go, A service to my bonnie lassie. The boat rocks at the pier o’ Lei…

John Anderson my jo, John, When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonie brow was brent; But now your brow is beld, John,