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APOLOGY FOR DECLINING AN INVITATION TO DINE
No more of your guests, be they titled or not,
Who is proof to thy personal converse and wit,
EPITAPH FOR MR. GABRIEL RICHARDSON
HERE Brewer Gabriel's fire's extinct,
EPIGRAM ON MR. JAMES GRACIE
GRACIE, thou art a man of worth,
CAULD is the e'enin blast,
O' Boreas o'er the pool,
An' dawin it is dreary,
When birks are bare at Yule.
Cauld blaws the e'enin blast,
When bitter bites the frost,
And, in the mirk and dreary drift,
Ne'er sae murky blew the night
Gat grist to her mill.
INSCRIPTION AT FRIARS' CARSE HERMITAGE
To the Memory of Robert Riddell.
To Riddell, much lamented man,
Wand'rer, dost value matchless worth?
THERE WAS A BONIE LASS
THERE was a bonie lass, and a bonie, bonie lass,
Till War's loud alarms tore her laddie frae her arms,
Over sea, over shore, where the cannons loudly roar,
He still was a stranger to fear;
And nocht could him quail, or his bosom assail,
But the bonie lass he lo'ed sae dear.
WEE WILLIE GRAY
Tune-"Wee Totum Fogg."
WEE Willie Gray, and his leather wallet,
The rose upon the breir will be him trews an' doublet,
Wee Willie Gray, and his leather wallet,
Feathers of a flee wad feather up his bonnet,
O AYE MY WIFE SHE DANG ME
Chorus-O aye my wife she dang me,
An' aft my wife she bang'd me,
Gude faith! she'll soon o'er-gang ye.
ON peace an' rest my mind was bent,
Some sairie comfort at the last,
My pains o' hell on earth is past,
GUDE ALE KEEPS THE HEART ABOON
Chorus-O gude ale comes and gude ale goes;
Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon-
I HAD Sax Owsen in a pleugh,
Gude ale hauds me bare and busy,
Stand i' the stool when I hae done—
O STEER HER UP AN' HAUD HER GAUN
O STEER her up, an' haud her gaun,
Her mither's at the mill, jo;
An' gin she winna tak a man,
O steer her up, an' be na blate,
THE LASS O' ECCLEFECHAN
Tune-" Jack o' Latin."
GAT ye me, O gat ye me,
O gat ye me wi' naething?
A mickle quarter bason:
Bye attour my Gutcher has
A heich house and a laich ane,
A' forbye my bonie sel,
The toss o' Ecclefechan.
O haud your tongue now, Lucky Lang,
Syne I began to wander:
I tint my whistle and my sang,
I tint my peace and pleasure;
But your green graff, now Lucky Lang,
O LET ME IN THIS AE NIGHT
O LASSIE, are ye sleepin yet,
Or are ye waukin, I wad wit?
Chorus-O let me in this ae night,
O let me in this ae night,
I'll no come back again, jo!
O hear'st thou not the wind an' weet?
And shield me frae the rain, jo.
The bitter blast that round me blaws,
O let me in, &c.
O tell na me o' wind an' rain,
I winna let ye in, jo.