FAREWELL to the Highlands, farewell to the North,

What heart o’ stane wad thou na move,Sae helpless, sweet, and fair?November hirples o’er the lea,Chill, on thy lovely form:And gane, alas! the shelt’ring tree,Should shield thee frae the storm.May He who gives the rain to pour,And wings the blast to blaw,Protect thee frae the driving show’r,The bitter frost and snaw.May He, the friend o’…

Auld Reekie dings them a’ to sticks,For rhyme-inspiring lasses.Jove’s tunefu’ dochters three times threeMade Homer deep their debtor;But, gien the body half an e’e,Nine Ferriers wad done better!Last day my mind was in a bog,Down George’s Street I stoited;A creeping cauld prosaic fogMy very sense doited.Do what I dought to set her free,My saul lay…

Whae’er desires to ken,To some other warl’Maun follow the carl,For here Johnie Pigeon had nane!Strong ale was ablution,Small beer persecution,A dram was memento mori;But a full-flowing bowlWas the saving his soul,And port was celestial glory.

How can ye chant, ye little birds,And I sae fu’ o’ care!Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,That sings upon the bough;Thou minds me o’ the happy daysWhen my fause luve was true.Thou’ll break my heart, thou bonnie bird,That sings beside thy mate;For sae I sat, and sae I sang,And wistna o’ my fate.Aft hae…

A Prologue, Epilogue, or some such matter,‘Twould vamp my bill, said I, if nothing better;So sought a poet, roosted near the skies,Told him I came to feast my curious eyes;Said, nothing like his works was ever printed;And last, my prologue-business slily hinted.‘Ma’am, let me tell you,’ quoth my man of rhymes,‘I know your bent—these are…

Whether thy airy, insubstantial shade(The rights of sepulture now duly paid)Spread abroad its hideous formOn the roaring civil storm,Deafening din and warring rageFactions wild with factions wage;Or under-ground, deep-sunk, profound,Among the demons of the earth,With groans that make the mountains shake,Thou mourn thy ill-starr’d, blighted birth;Or in the uncreated Void,Where seeds of future being fight,With…

Wha now will keep you frae the fox,Or worrying tykes?Or wha will tent the waifs an’ crocks,About the dykes?The twa best herds in a’ the wast,The e’er ga’e gospel horn a blastThese five an’ twenty simmers past—Oh, dool to tell!Hae had a bitter black out-castAtween themsel’.O, Moddie, 1 man, an’ wordy Russell, 2How could you…

The coward slave – we pass him by,We dare be poor for a’ that!For a’ that, an’ a’ that,Our toils obscure an’ a’ that,The rank is but the guinea’s stamp,The man’s the gowd for a’ that.What though on hamely fare we dine,Wear hoddin grey, an’ a’ that?Gie fools their silks, and knaves their wine,A man’s…

The sweetest hours that e’er I spend,Are spent amang the lasses, O!There’s nought but care on every han’In every hour that passes, O;What signifies the life o’ man,An ’twere na for the lasses, O?The warl’ly race may riches chase,An’ riches still may fly them, O;An’ though at last they catch them fast,Their hearts can ne’er…

Here’s a bottle and an honest friend!What wad ye wish for mair, man?Wha kens, before his life may end,What his share may be o’ care, man?Then catch the moments as they fly,And use them as ye ought, man!Believe me, Happiness is shy,And comes not ay when sought, man!

And as he was singin’, thir words he did say, –There’s nae life like the ploughman’s in the month o’ sweet May.The lav’rock in the morning she’ll rise frae her nest,And mount i’ the air wi’ the dew on her breast,And wi’ the merry ploughman she’ll whistle and sing,And at night she’ll return to her…

Dost not know that old Mansfield, who writes like the Bible,Says, the more ’tis a truth, sir, the more ’tis a libel!