Epigram To Miss Jean Scott
O had each Scot of ancient times Been, Jeanie Scott, as thou art; The bravest heart on English ground Had yielded like a coward.
Epigram To Miss Ainslie In Church
Fair maid, you need not take the hint, Nor idle texts pursue: 'Twas guilty sinners that he meant, Not Angels such as you.
Epigram Addressed To An Artist
Dear _____, I'll gieye some advice, You'll takit no uncivil: You shouldnapaint at angels mair, But try and paint the devil. To paint anAngel's kittlewark, Wi'Nick, there's little danger: You'll easy draw a lang-kent face, Butnosaeweela stranger.-R. B.
Elegy On The Death Of Sir James Hunter Blair
The lamp of day, with-ill presaging glare, Dim, cloudy, sank beneath the western wave; Th' inconstant blast howl'd thro' the dark'ning air, And hollow whistled in the rocky cave. Lone as I wander'd byeach cliff and dell, Once the lov'd haunts of Scotia's royal train;^1 Or mus'd where limpid streams, once hallow'd well,^2 Ormould'ring ruins
Elegy On “Stella”
Strait is the spot and green the sod From whence my sorrows flow; And soundly sleeps the ever dear Inhabitant below. Pardon my transport, gentle shade, While o'er the turf I bow; Thy earthy house is circumscrib'd, And solitary now. Not one poor stone to tell thy name, Ormake thy virtues known: But what avails
Castle Gordon
Streams that glide in orient plains, Never bound by Winter's chains; Glowing here on golden sands, There immix'd with foulest stains From Tyranny's empurpled hands; These, their richly gleaming waves, I leave to tyrants and their slaves; Give me the stream that sweetly laves The banks by Castle Gordon. Spicy forests, ever gray, Shading from
Burlesque Lament For The Absence Of William Creech, Publisher
Auld chuckieReekie's^1sairdistrest, Down droops her anceweel burnish'd crest, Nae joy her boniebuskit nest Can yield ava, Her darling bird that she lo'es best- Willie's awa! O Willie was a witty wight, And had o' things an unco' sleight, Auld Reekieaye he keepit tight, And trigan'braw: But now they'll buskher like a fright, - Willie's awa!
Braving Angry Winter’s Storms
Where, braving angry winter's storms, The lofty Ochils rise, Far in their shade my Peggy's charms First blest my wondering eyes; As one who bysome savage stream A lonely gem surveys, Astonish'd, doubly marks it beam With art's most polish'd blaze. Blest be the wild, sequester'd shade, And blest the day and hour, Where Peggy's
Bonie Dundee
My blessin's upon thy sweet weelippie! My blessin's upon thy e'e-brie! Thy smiles are sae like my blythe sodgerladdie, Thou's aye the dearer, and dearer to me! ButI'll biga bow'r on yonboniebanks, Whare Tay rins wimplin' bysae clear; An'I'll cleedthee in the tartan saefine, And makthee a man like thy daddie dear.
Blythe Was She^1
Chorus.-Blythe, blythe and merry was she, Blythe was she but and ben; Blythe by the banks of Earn, And blythe in Glenturit glen. By Oughtertyre grows the aik, On Yarrow banks the birkenshaw; But Phemie was a bonier lass Than braes o' Yarrow ever saw. Blythe, blythe, &c. Her looks were like a flow'r in