By oppression's woes and pains!
By your sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,

But they shall-they shall be free!

Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!

Forward! let us do, or die!

MY SPOUSE NANCY.

'HUSBAND, husband, cease your strife, Nor longer idly rave, sir; Though I am your wedded wife;

Yet I am not your slave, sir.'

'One of two must still obey,

Nancy, Nancy;

Is it man, or woman, say,
My spouse Nancy?'

'If 'tis still the lordly word,
Service and obedience;
I'll desert my sovereign lord,
And so good-bye, allegiance!'

6 Sad will I be, so bereft,

Nancy, Nancy,

Yet I'll try to make a shift,

My spouse Nancy.'

'My poor heart then break it must,

My last hour I'm near it:

When you lay me in the dust,

Think, think how you will bear it.'

'I will hope and trust in heaven,
Nancy, Nancy;

Strength to bear it will be given,
My spouse Nancy.'

'Well, sir, from the silent dead
Still I'll try to daunt you;
Ever round your midnight bed
Horrid sprites shall haunt you.'

'I'll wed another like my dear,
Nancy, Nancy;

Then all hell will fly for fear-
My spouse Nancy.'

FAIR JENNY.

WHERE are the joys I have met in the morning,
That danced to the lark's early song?
Where is the peace that awaited my wandering
At evening the wild woods among?

No more a-winding the course of yon river,
And marking sweet flowerets so fair;
No more I trace the light footsteps of pleasure,
But sorrow and sad sighing care.

Is it that summer's forsaken our valleys,
And grim surly winter is near?

No, no, the bees humming round the gay roses
Proclaim it the pride of the year.

Fain would I hide what I fear to discover,
Yet long, long too well have I known,
All that has caused this wreck in my bosom,
Is Jenny, fair Jenny alone.

Time cannot aid me-my griefs are immortalNor hope dare a comfort bestow:

Come, then, enamoured and fond of my anguish, Enjoyment I'll seek in my woe.

LOVELY POLLY STEWART.

O LOVELY Polly Stewart!

O charming Polly Stewart!

There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May
That's half sae fair as thou art.
The flower it blaws, it fades and fa's,

And art can ne'er renew it;

But worth and truth eternal youth

Will gie to Polly Stewart.

May he whose arms shall fauld thy charms,

Possess a leal and true heart;

To him be given to ken the heaven

He grasps in Polly Stewart.

O lovely Polly Stewart !

O charming Polly Stewart!

There's ne'er a flower that blooms in May

That's half sae sweet as thou art.

THE HIGHLAND LADDIE.

THE bonniest lad that e'er I saw,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,
Wore a plaid, and was fu' braw,
Bonnie Highland laddie.
On his head a bonnet blue,

Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie,
His loyal heart was firm and true,
Bonnie Highland laddie.

Trumpets sound and cannons roar,
Bonnie lassie, Lawland lassie;
And a' the hills wi' echoes roar,
Bonnie Lawland lassie.
Glory, honour, now invite,

Bonnie lassie, Lawland lassie,
For freedom and my king to fight,
Bonnie Lawland lassie.

The sun a backward course shall take,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie!
Ere aught thy manly courage shake,
Bonnie Highland laddie.

Go! for yoursel' procure renown,
Bonnie laddie, Highland laddie!
And for your lawful king his crown,
Bonnie Highland laddie!

CASSILLIS' BANKS.

Now bank an' brae are claithed in green,
An' scattered cowslips sweetly spring;
By Girvan's fairy-haunted stream
The birdies flit on wanton wing.
To Cassillis' banks, when e'ening fa's,
There wi' my Mary let me flee,
There catch her ilka glance of love,
The bonnie blink o' Mary's ee!

The chield wha boasts o' warld's walth,
Is often laird o' meikle care;

But Mary she is a' mine ain

Ah! Fortune canna gie me mair;

Then let me range by Cassillis' banks,

Wi' her, the lassie dear to me,

And catch her ilka glance o' love,
The bonnie blink o' Mary's ee!

ANNA, THY CHARMS.
ANNA, thy charms my bosom fire,
And 'press my soul with care;
But, ah! how bootless to admire,
When fated to despair!

Yet in thy presence, lovely fair,
To hope may be forgiven;
For sure 'twere impious to despair,
So much in sight of Heaven.

THE AULD MAN.

But lately seen in gladsome green,
The woods rejoiced the day,

Through gentle showers the laughing flowers

In double pride were gay:

But now our joys are fled

On winter blasts awa'!

Yet maiden May, in rich array,
Again shall bring them a'.

But my white pow, nae kindly thowe
Shall melt the snaws of age;
My trunk of eild, but buss or bield,

Sinks in time's wintry rage.

Oh, age has weary days,

And nights o' sleepless pain!
Thou golden time o' youthfu' prime,
Why com'st thou not again?

O PHILLY!

HE.

O PHILLY! happy be that day,

When, roving through the gathered hay, My youthfu' heart was stown away,

And by thy charms, my Philly!