Contents ( 73)
- CONTENTS
- INTRODUCTION
- FOLK-TALES FOR AN ENLIGHTENED AGE
- DEATH AND DOCTOR HORNBOOK A True Story
- TO A MOUSE
- THE TWA DOGS A Tale
- HALLOWEEN
- ADDRESS TO THE DEIL
- TO A LOUSE
- ADDRESS OF BEELZEBUB
- TAM O’ SHANTER A Tale
- RELIGIOUS SENTIMENT AND SATIRE
- A PRAYER, IN THE PROSPECT OF DEATH
- HOLY WILLIE’S PRAYER
- THE HOLY FAIR
- THE COTTER’S SATURDAY NIGHT Inscribed to R. Aiken, Esq.
- PRAYER – O THOU DREAD POWER
- EPIGRAM TO MISS AINSLIE IN CHURCH
- LOVE AND SEX
- THE RIGS O BARLEY Tune: Corn rigs are bonie
- MARY MORISON Tune: Duncan Davison
- GREEN GROW THE RASHES, O
- A POET’S WELCOME TO HIS LOVE-BEGOTTEN DAUGHTER
- THE FORNICATOR Tune: Clout the Cauldron
- THE JOLLY BEGGARS – A CANTATA
- THE LASS O BALLOCHMYLE Tune: Ettrick Banks
- LIBEL SUMMONS
- CA’ THE YOWES TO THE KNOWES
- AULD LANG SYNE
- YESTREEN I HAD A PINT O WINE Tune: Banks of Banna
- AE FOND KISS Tune: Rory Dall’s Port
- HIGHLAND MARY Tune: Katherine Ogie
- A RED RED ROSE
- O, WERT THOU IN THE CAULD BLAST Tune: Lenox love to Blantyre
- COMIN THRO THE RYE Tune: Miller’s Wedding
- WHA’LL MOW ME NOW? Tune: Comin thro the rye
- O SAW YE MY MAGGIE
- CONTEMPORARY POLITICS
- BALLAD ON THE AMERICAN WAR Tune: Killiecrankie
- A DREAM
- THE FÊTE CHAMPETRE Tune: Killiecrankie
- ODE ON THE DEPARTED REGENCY BILL
- THE RIGHTS OF WOMAN Spoken by Miss Fontenelle on her benefit night
- WHY SHOULDNA POOR FOLK MOWE Tune: The Campbells are comin
- SCOTS WHA HAE Tune: Hey Tutti Tatie
- ODE FOR GENERAL WASHINGTON’S BIRTHDAY
- A MAN’S A MAN FOR A’ THAT
- DOES HAUGHTY GAUL INVASION THREAT? Tune: Push about the Jorum
- SCOTTISH CULTURAL HISTORY
- SCOTCH DRINK
- ADDRESS TO A HAGGIS
- LINES ON FERGUSSON, THE POET
- THE BONIE MOOR-HEN Tune: Beware of the Hunting
- JOHNIE COPE
- MY HEART’S IN THE HIGHLANDS Tune: Failte na miosg
- AWA, WHIGS, AWA
- THE WHITE COCKADE
- LAMENT OF MARY QUEEN OF SCOTS ON THE APPROACH OF SPRING
- THERE’LL NEVER BE PEACE TILL JAMIE COMES HAME
- YE JACOBITES BY NAME
- SUCH A PARCEL OF ROGUES IN A NATION
- OCCASIONAL AND BIOGRAPHICAL VERSE
- I’LL GO AND BE A SODGER
- MY FATHER WAS A FARMER Tune: The Weaver and his Shuttle, O
- THE DEATH AND DYING WORDS OF POOR MAILIE, THE AUTHOR’S ONLY PET YOWE
- EPITAPH ON MY HONOURED FATHER
- EPISTLE TO DAVIE, A BROTHER POET
- EPISTLE TO J. LAPRAIK
- THE AULD FARMER’S NEW-YEAR MORNING SALUTATION TO HIS AULD MARE, MAGGIE
- LINES WRITTEN ON A BANK-NOTE
- THE FAREWELL
- REPLY TO A TRIMMING EPISTLE RECEIVED FROM A TAYLOR
- SELECT SCOTS GLOSSARY
Sae black and bare, sae black and bare,
The desert were a paradise,
If thou wert there, if thou wert there.
Or were I monarch o the globe.
Wi thee to reign, wi thee to reign,
The brightest jewel in my crown
Wad be my queen, wad be my queen.
COMIN THRO THE RYE
Tune: Miller’s Wedding
CHORUS
O, Jenny’s a’ weet, poor body,
Jenny’s seldom dry:
She draigl’t a’ her petticoatie,
Comin thro the rye!
Comin thro the rye, poor body,
Comin thro the rye,
She draigl’t a’ her petticoatie,
Comin thro the rye!
Gin a body meet a body,
Comin thro the rye,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need a body cry.
Gin a body meet a body
Comin thro the glen,
Gin a body kiss a body,
Need the warld ken!
WHA’LL MOW ME NOW?
Tune: Comin thro the rye
O wha’ll mow me now, my jo,
An wha’ll mow me now:
A sodger wi his bandileers
Has bag’d my belly fu.
O, I hae tint my rosy cheek,
Likewise my waste sae sma’,
O wae gae by the sodger lown,
The sodger did it a’.
An wha’ll, &c.
Now I maun thole the scornfu sneer
O mony a saucy quine,
When, curse upon her godly face!
Her cunt’s as merry’s mine.
An wha’ll &c.
Our dame hauds up her wanton tail,
As due as she gaes lie;
An yet misca’s a young thing,
The trade if she but try.
An wha’ll, &c.
Our dame can lae her ain gudeman,
An mow for glutton greed;
An yet misca’s a poor thing
That’s mowin for its bread.
An wha’ll, &c.
Alake! sae sweet a tree as love,
Sic bitter fruit should bear!
Alake, that e’er a merry arse,
Should draw a sa’tty tear.
An wha’ll, &c.
But deevil damn the lousy loun,
Denies the bairn he got!
Or lea’s the merry arse he lo’ed
To wear a ragged coat!
An wha’ll, &c.
O SAW YE MY MAGGIE
Saw ye my Maggie?
Saw ye my Maggie?
Saw ye my Maggie?
Comin o’er the lea?
What mark has your Maggie,
What mark has your Maggie,
What mark has your Maggie,
That ane may ken her be?
My Maggie has a mark,
Ye’ll find it in the dark,
It’s in below her sark,
A little aboon her knee.
What wealth has your Maggie,
What wealth has your Maggie,
What wealth has your Maggie,
In tocher, gear, or fee?
My Maggie has a treasure,
A hidden mine o pleasure,
I’ll howk it at my leisure,
It’s alane for me.
How loe ye your Maggy,
How loe ye your Maggy,
How loe ye your Maggy,
An loe nane but she?
Ein that tell our wishes,
Eager glowing kisses,
Then diviner blisses,
In holy ecstasy!
How meet you your Maggie,
How meet you your Maggie,
How meet you your Maggie,
When nane ’s to hear or see?
Heavenly joys before me,
Rapture trembling o’er me,
Maggie I adore thee,
On my bended knee!!!