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O why thus all alone are mine
The weary steps o' woe!

The trout in yonder wimpling burn
That glides, a silver dart,

And, safe beneath the shady thorn,
Defies the angler's art-

My life was ance that careless stream,
That wanton trout was I;
But Love, wi' unrelenting beam,

Has scorch'd my fountains dry.

That little floweret's peaceful lot,
In yonder cliff that grows,
Which, save the linnet's flight, I wot,

Nae ruder visit knows,

Was mine, till Love has o'er me past,
And blighted a' my bloom;

And now, beneath the withering blast,
My youth and joy consume.

The waken'd lav'rock warbling springs,
And climbs the early sky,
Winnowing blythe his dewy wings

In morning's rosy eye;

As little reck'd I sorrow's power,

Until the flowery snare

O' witching Love, in luckless hour,
Made me the thrall o' care.

O had my fate been Greenland snows,
Or Afric's burning zone,

Wi' man and nature leagued my foes,
So Peggy ne'er I'd known!

The wretch whose doom is "Hope nae mair"
What tongue his woes can tell;
Within whase bosom, save Despair,
Nae kinder spirits dwell.



O WAT ye wha that lo’es me
And has my heart a-keeping?
O sweet is she that lo'es me,

As dews o' summer weeping,
In tears the rosebuds steeping!

Chorus-O that's the lassie o' my heart,
My lassie ever dearer;

O she's the queen o' womankind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.

If thou shalt meet a lassie,

In grace and beauty charming,
That e'en thy chosen lassie,
Erewhile thy breast sae warming,
Had ne'er sic powers alarming;
O that's the lassie, &c.

If thou hadst heard her talking,
And thy attention's plighted,
That ilka body talking,

But her, by thee is slighted,
And thou art all-delighted;
O that's the lassie, &c.

If thou hast met this Fair One,
When frae her thou hast parted,

If every other Fair One

But her, thou hast deserted,

And thou art broken-hearted;

O that's the lassie o' my heart,

My lassie ever dearer;

O that's the queen o' womankind,
And ne'er a ane to peer her.


Written on the blank leaf of a copy of the last edition of my poems, presented to the Lady whom, in so many fictitious reveries of passion, but with the most ardent sentiments of real friendship, I have so often sung under the name of "Chloris." 1

"TIs Friendship's pledge, my young, fair Friend,

Nor thou the gift refuse,

Nor with unwilling ear attend

The moralising Muse.

Since thou, in all thy youth and charms,

Must bid the world adieu,

(A world 'gainst Peace in constant arms)
To join the Friendly Few.

Since, thy gay morn of life o'ercast,
Chill came the tempest's lour;
(And ne'er Misfortune's eastern blast
Did nip a fairer flower.)

Since life's gay scenes must charm no more,
Still much is left behind,

Still nobler wealth hast thou in store

The comforts of the mind!

Thine is the self-approving glow,
Of conscious Honour's part;
And (dearest gift of Heaven below)
Thine Friendship's truest heart.

The joys refin'd of Sense and Taste,
With every Muse to rove:

And doubly were the Poet blest,
These joys could he improve.

1 Miss Lorimer.



WILL ye go to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay,
Will ye go to the Hielands wi' me?
Will ye go to the Hielands, Leezie Lindsay,
My pride and my darling to be.


THE Robin to the Wren's nest

Cam keekin' in, cam keekin' in;
O weel's me on your auld pow,
Wad ye be in, wad ye be in?
Thou's ne'er get leave to lie without,
And I within, and I within,
Sae lang's I hae an auld clout
To rowe ye in, to rowe ye in.

THERE'S news, lassies, news,
Gude news I've to tell!
There's a boatfu' o' lads
Come to our town to sell.

Chorus-The wean wants a cradle,

And the cradle wants a cod:
I'll no gang to my bed,
Until I get a nod.

Father, quo' she, Mither, quo she,

Do what you can,
I'll no gang to my bed,

Until I get a man.

The wean, &c.

I hae as gude a craft rig

As made o' yird and stane;

And waly fa' the ley-crap,

For I maun till'd again.

The wean, &c.


O THAT I had ne'er been married,
I wad never had nae care,
Now I've gotten wife an' weans,
An' they cry "Crowdie" evermair.

Chorus-Ance crowdie, twice crowdie,
Three times crowdie in a day
Gin ye crowdie ony mair,

Ye'll crowdie a' my meal away.

Waefu' Want and Hunger fley me,

Glowrin' by the hallan en';

Sair I fecht them at the door,

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Chorus-Mally's meek, Mally's sweet,
Mally's modest and discreet;
Mally's rare, Mally's fair,
Mally's every way complete.

As I was walking up the street,
A barefit maid I chanc'd to meet;
But O the road was very hard
For that fair maiden's tender feet.
Mally's meek, &c.

It were mair meet that those fine feet

Were weel laced up in silken shoon;
An' 'twere more fit that she should sit
Within yon chariot gilt aboon,
Mally's meek, &c.

Her yellow hair, beyond compare,

Comes trinklin down her swan-like neck,

And her two eyes, like stars in skies,

Would keep a sinking ship frae wreck,
Mally's meek, &c.

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