Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong,
The wretch's destinie!
33 lines
It was in sweet Senegal that my foes did me enthrall
For the lands of Virginia-ginia O;
17 lines
Nae lark in transport mounts the sky Or leaves wi' early plaintive cry,
36 lines
O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
O wilt thou go wi' me, sweet Tibbie Dunbar?
9 lines
Of a' the airts the wind can blaw,
I dearly like the west,
16 lines
Thou lingering star, with less'ning ray,
That lov'st to greet the early morn,
35 lines
The winter it is past, and the summer comes at last And the small birds, they sing on ev’ry tree;
11 lines
If ye gae up to yon hill-tap,
Ye'll there see bonie Peggy;
24 lines
Now simmer blinks on flow'ry braes,
And o'er the crystal streamlet plays,
28 lines
The gloomy night is gath'ring fast,
Loud roars the wild inconstant blast;
32 lines
Ye flowery banks o' bonie Doon,
How can ye blume sae fair ?
24 lines, 1 comment
Cauld blaws the wind frae east to west, The drift is driving sairly;
19 lines
John Anderson, my jo John, When we were first acquent
17 lines
My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie,
Some counsel unto me come len';
32 lines
O Thou Great Being! what Thou art,
Surpasses me to know;
16 lines
The lovely lass o' Inverness,
Nae joy nor pleasure can she see;
16 lines
"Wha is that at my bower-door?"
"O wha is it but Findlay!"
24 lines
Green grow the rashes, O!
Green grow the rashes, O!
24 lines
To Miss Jessie Lewars
The sun lies clasped in amber cloud
65 lines, 2 comments
O stay, sweet warbling wood-lark, stay,
Nor quit for me the trembling spray,
16 lines
In Tarbolton, ye ken, there are proper young men,
And proper young lasses and a', man;
60 lines
Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet,
Peel a willow wand to be him boots and jacket;
8 lines
Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen, And sair wi' his love he did deave me;
40 lines
Fair Empress of the poet's soul, And Queen of poetesses;
14 lines
O Thou, the first, the greatest friend
Of all the human race!
33 lines
A Guide New-year I wish thee, Maggie! Hae, there's a ripp to thy auld baggie:
125 lines, 2 comments
My love, she's but a lassie yet, My love, she's but a lassie yet!
19 lines, 1 comment
Tune - "Galla Water."
Altho' my bed were in yon muir,
13 lines
Upon a simmer Sunday morn,
When Nature's face is fair,
235 lines
As I was a-wand'ring ae morning in spring,
I heard a young ploughman sae sweetly to sing;
8 lines
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