. 110 Gudeen to you, Kimmer Guid-mornin to your Majesty! Guid speed an' furder to you, Johny Had I a cave on some wild, distant shore Here is the glen, and here the bower Here lies a mock Marquis whose titles were Here lies a rose, a budding rose Here lies John Bushby, honest man 114 110 Kemble, thou cur'st my unbelief Here lies Johnny Pigeon 109 Here lies now a prey to insulting neglect 64 44 Lament him, Mauchline husbands a 113 Landlady, count the lawin Here, where the Scottish Muse immortal Lass, when your mither is frae home 118 Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang Here's a bottle and an honest friend! : 107 glen Here's a health to them that's awa 96 Late crippl'd of an arm, and now a leg. Here's to thy health, my bonnie lass 94 Let not woman e'er complain He who of Rankine sang, lies stiff and dead Let other Poets raise a Fracas 51 Hey, the dusty miller 101 Life ne'er exulted in so rich a prize Honest Will's to heaven is gane 110 Like Esop's lion, Burns says, sore I feel How can my poor heart be glad 71 How cold is that bosom which folly once 64 Lone on the bleaky hills the straying flocks How cruel are the parents 75 Louis, what reck I by thee How daur ye ca' me howlet-faced 131 How lang and dreary is the night 72 How pleasant the banks of the clear-winding 110 Musing on the roaring ocean How shall I sing Drumlanrig's Grace 93 My blessings on ye, sonsie wife How Wisdom and Folly meet, mix, and unite 128 My bottle is my holy pool 84 My canty, witty, rhyming ploughman. Husband, husband, cease your strife: 124 My Chloris, mark how green the groves My Father was a Farmer upon the Carrick I am my mammie's ae bairn 95 border O I burn, I burn, as when thro' ripen'd corn 132 My Harry was a gallant gay I call no Goddess to inspire my strains. 67 My heart is a breaking, dear Tittie I coft a stane o' haslock woo' 106 My heart is sair, I dare na tell I do confess thou art sae fair 97 My heart is wae, and unco wae If you gae up to yon hill-tap I dream'd I lay where flowers were spring- 48 My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is 131 My heart was ance as blythe and free. If you rattle along like your mistress's My honour'd Colonel, deep I feel 131 My lord, a hunting he is gane I gaed a waefu' gate yestreen. 53 My Lord, I know your noble ear I gaed up to Dunse Igat your letter, winsome Willie I hac a wife o' my ain I hold it, Sir, my bounden duty I lang hae thought, my youthfu' friend Ilk care and fear when thou art near I'll ay ca' in by yon town. I married with a scolding wife 107 33 My lov'd, my honour'd, much respected I mind it weel in early date I murder hate by field or flood I'm three times doubly o'er your debtor In coming by the brig o' Dye Inhuman man! curse on thy barb'rous art In politics if thou wouldst mix 118 No more of your guests, be they titled or 113 not · 47 No more of your titled acquaintances boast 108 103 No more, ye warblers of the wood-no more 43 No sculptur'd marble here, nor pompous lay No song nor dance I bring from yon great 48 city 109 No Stewart art thon, Galloway: The poor man weeps-here Gavin sleeps There's auld Rob Morris that wons in yon There's a youth in this city, it were a great There's braw braw lads on Yarrow braes There's nought but care on ev'ry han' There was a bonie lass, and a bonie, bonie lass There was a lad was born at Kyle' There was a lass, and she was fair There was once a day, but old Time then There were five Carlins in the south There were three Kings into the east The simple Bard, rough at the rustic plough The smiling spring comes in rejoicing The Solemn League and Covenant The Tailor fell thro' the bed, thimbles an' a' 115 . When biting Boreas, fell and doure 129 121 129 117 122 When first I began for to sigh and to woo her 122 When o'er the hill the eastern star When wild war's deadly blast was blawn Where, braving angry whiter's storms Where liv'd ye, my bonnie lass? While at the stook, the shearers cowr. While briers an' woodbines budding green. While Europe's eye is fixed on mighty While larks with little wing 119 103 What needs this din about the town 111 What of earls with whom ye have supt 132 116 Thou's welcome, wean! mishanter fa' me Thou, who thy honour as thy God rever'st To Riddel, much-lamented man To thee, lov'd Nith, thy gladsome plains Turn again, thou fair Eliza 'Twas even-the dewy fields were green Whoe'er thou art, these lines now reading Wi' braw new branks in miekle pride Wow, but your letter made me vauntie! Ye banks, and braes, and streams around The Thames flows proudly to the sea The weary pund, the weary pund. Thou bed, in which I first began Whoe'er he be that sojourns here. 108 Thou flattering mark of friendship kind Thou lingering star, with less'ning ray . |