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When fevers burn, or ague freezes,
Rheumatics gnaw, or cholic squeezes;
Our neighbours' sympathy may ease us,

Wi' pitying moan;
But thee—thou hell o' a' diseases,

Aye mocks our groan!


my beard the slavers trickle!
I kick the wee stools o'er the mickle,
As round the fire the giglets keckle,

To see me loup;
While, raving mad, I wish a heckle

Were in their doup.

Of a' the numerous human dools,
Ill hairsts, daft bargains, cutty-stools,
Or worthy friends raked i' the mools,

Sad sight to see!
The tricks o' knaves, or fash o' fools,

Thou bear'st the gree.

Where'er that place be priests ca' hell,
Whence a' the tones o' misery yell,
And ranked plagues their numbers tell,

In dreadfu' raw,
Thou, Toothache, surely bear'st the bell

Amang them a'!

O thou grim mischief-making chiel,
That gars the notes of discord squeel,
Till daft mankind aft dance a reel

In gore a shoe-thick,
Gie a' the faes o' Scotland's weal

A towmond's toothache!


MY HANDSOME NELL. OH, once I loved a bonnie lass,

Ay, and I love her still; And whilst that virtue warms my breast

I'll love my handsome Nell.·

As bonnie lasses I ha'e seen,

And mony full as braw;
But for a modest, gracefu' mien,

The like I never saw.
A bonnie lass, I will confess,

Is pleasant to the ee,
But without some better qualities

She's no a lass for me.

But Nelly's looks are blithe and sweet;

And, what is best of a', Her reputation is complete,

And fair without a flaw.

She dresses aye sae clean and neat,

Baith decent and genteel; And then there's something in her gait

Gars ony dress look weel.

A gaudy dress and gentle air

May slightly touch the heart;
But it's Innocence and Modesty

That polishes the dart.
'Tis this in Nelly pleases me,

'Tis this enchants my soul!
For absolutely in my breast

She reigns without control.

Oh, raging Fortune's withering blast

Has laid my leaf full low, O!
Oh, raging Fortune's withering blast

Has laid my leaf full low, O!
My stem was fair, my bud was green,

My blossom sweet did blow, O;
The dew fell fresh, the sun rose mild,

And made my branches grow, O.
But luckless Fortune's northern storms

Laid a' my blossoms low, O;
But luckless Fortune's northern storms

Laid a' my blossoms low, O.


WERE SPRINGING. I DREAMED I lay where flowers were springing

Gaily in the sunny beam,
Listening to the wild birds singing

By a falling crystal stream:
Straight the sky grew black and daring;

Through the woods the whirlwinds rave;
Trees with agèd arms were warring,

O'er the swelling, drumlie wave.

Such was my life's deceitful morning,

Such the pleasures I enjoyed ;
But lang or noon, loud tempests storming,

A' my flowery bliss destroyed.
Though fickle Fortune has deceived me,

(She promised fair and performed but ill.) Of mony a joy and hope bereaved me,

I bear a heart shall support me still.


O Tibbie! I hae seen the day

Ve wad na been sae shy;
For laik o gear ye lightly me,

But, trowth, I care na by.

Yestreen I met you on the moor,
Ye spak na, but gaed by like stoure :
Ye geck at me because I'm poor,

But fient a hair care I.

I doubt na, lass, but ye may think,
Because ye hae the name o'clink,
That ye can please me at a wink,

Whene'er ye like to try.

But sorrow tak him that's sae mean,
Although his pouch o' coin were clean,
Wha follows such a saucy quean,

That looks sae proud and high.

Although a lad were e'er sae smart,
If that he want the yellow dirt,
Ye'll cast your head anither airt,

And answer him fu' dry.

But if he hae the name o'

Ye 'll fasten to him like a brier,
Though hardly he, for sense or lear,

Be better than the kye.

But, Tibbie, lass, tak


advice: Your daddie's gear maks you sae nice; The deil a ane wad spier your price,

Were ye as poor as I.

There lives a lass in yonder park,
I would nae gi'e her in her sark
For thee, wi' a'thy thousan' mark!

Ye need na look sae high.


My father was a farmer

Upon the Carrick border, O; And carefully he bred me

In decency and order, O; He bade me act a manly part,

Though I had ne'er a farthing, 0; For without an honest, manly heart,

No man was worth regarding, O.

Then out into the world

My course I did determine, 0; Though to be rich was not my wish,

Yet to be great was charming, O. My talents they were not the worst,

Nor yet my education, 0; Resolved was I at least to try

To mend my situation, O.

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