No more, ye warblers of the wood, no more, Page. 274 172 225 155 269 168 282 O leeze me on my spinning wheel, 245 O Luve will venture in where it daur na weel be seen, 248 O May, thy morn was ne'er so sweet, 256 242 258 O meikle thinks my luve o' my beauty, Oppress'd with grief, oppress'd with care, O Thou dread Power, who reign'st above! O Thou, the first, the greatest friend! 99 146 231 118 115 96 116 112 42 292 257 ye, whose cheek the tear of pity stains, 187 Raving winds around her blowing, Sing on, sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough, 281 Sir, as your mandate did request, Sweet flow'ret, pledge o' meikle love, 276 24 226 171 199 The lazy mist hangs from the brow of the hill, 233 255 The man, in life, wherever plac'd, 114 young, The poor man weeps, here G***n sleeps, There was three kings into the east, The simple bard, rough at the rustic plough, They snool me sair, and haud me down, 188 264 149 30 253 59 237 176 101 245 226 280 This day, Time winds the exhausted chain, 271 273 Thou whom chance may hither lead, 165 Thou, who thy honour as thy God rever'st, 178 273 "Twas in that place o' Scotland's isle, What can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie, When biting Boreas, fell and doure, While briers and woodbines budding green, 243 89 179 109 293 151 230 254 133 While new-ca'd kye rout at the stake, Page. 137 186 92 187 Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene? 112 63 With musing-deep, astonish'd stare, 249 1 POEMS, CHIEFLY SCOTTISH. THE TWA DOGS. A TALE. 'TWAS in that place o' Scotland's isle, That bears the name o' Auld King Coil, Upon a bonnie day in June, When wearing thro' the afternoon, The first I'll name, they ca'd him Cæsar, His locked, letter'd, braw brass collar, A rhyming, ranting, raving billie, |