First Line |
Page |
Verses |
Ah! tell me ye swains have ye seen my Pastora |
5-6 |
|
'Twas near a thicket's calm retreat |
6 |
3 |
Bright Phoebus has mounted the chariot of day |
7 |
3 |
Hither, hither Mary, hither, hither come |
7-8 |
3 |
Since [then] I'm doom'd this sad rever[s]e to prove |
8 |
2 |
Beyond yon hill where Stinchar flows |
8-9 |
4 |
With care I've search'd the village round |
10-11 |
3 |
I have look'd into life and with truth I can say |
11 |
6 |
In the downhill of life, I find I'm diclining [sic] |
12 |
4 |
Ye sons of Hibernia, who snug on dry land |
13-15 |
12 |
'Twas within a mile of Edinburgh town |
16 |
3 |
'Twas post meridian, half past four |
16-18 |
6 |
In storms when clouds obscure the sky |
18-19 |
5 |
Say, have you seen my Arabell? |
19 |
3 |
Sea was calm, the sky serene, The |
20 |
3 |
Here, a sheer hulk, lies poor Tom Bowling |
20-21 |
3 |
Our country is our ship, d' ye see |
21-22 |
3 |
Come all hands ahoy to the anchor |
22-24 |
6 |
One moon-shiney night, about two in the morning [sic] |
24-26 |
7 |
Wealthy fool, with gold in store, The |
26 |
3 |
Silver moon that shines so bright, The |
27 |
5 |
When Bibo went down to the regions below |
27-28 |
3 |
Assist me, ye lads who have hearts void of guile |
28-29 |
6 |
O listen, listen to the voice of love |
29-30 |
3 |
When the fancy-stirring bowl |
30-31 |
4 |
One sweet May-morn, in woody dale |
31-32 |
5 |
Tho' far beyond the mountains that look so distant here |
32-33 |
5 |
Trees seem to fade as yon spot in viewing, The |
33-34 |
5 |
Come, hail the day, ye sons of mirth |
34-35 |
8 |
Ye sons of Columbia, O hail the great day |
36-37 |
5 |
To the gods who preside o'er the nations below |
37-39 |
8 |
Streamlet that flow'd round her cot, The |
39 |
2 |
Ere around the huge oak that o'ershadows yon mill |
40 |
3 |
Ah! where can fly my soul's true love? |
40 |
2 |
When sailing with a fav'ring tide |
41 |
4 |
John Bull, for pastime took a prance |
41-43 |
6 |
At dead of night. the hour when courts |
43-44 |
4 |
Let care be a stranger to each jolly soul |
44-45 |
5 |
Kind husband will, after a conjugal strife, A |
45 |
4 |
Of all that, strive to live and thrive |
46 |
4 |
Sup of good whiskey will make you glad, A |
47-48 |
7 |
I am lately return'd from the ocean |
48-50 |
7 |
Night o'er the world her curtain hung |
50-51 |
3 |
To hear a sweet goldfinch's sonnet |
51-52 |
3 |
When first I slipp'd my leading strings to please her little Poll |
52-53 |
4 |
Sweet inmate sensibility |
53 |
2 |
By her own lovely self, that's my choice and delight |
53 |
2 |
O fear not my courage, prov'd over and over |
54 |
4 |
Adieu! adieu! my only life |
54-55 |
3 |
My heart is as honest, and brave as the best |
55-56 |
2 |
In the worlds, in the worlds crooked path, where I've been |
56 |
3 |
With lovely suit and plaintive ditty |
56-57 |
2 |
How happily my life I led |
57 |
2 |
When to my pretty Poll I went |
58-59 |
8 |
At dawn I rose with jocund glee |
59 |
2 |
Though I am now a very little lad |
59-60 |
3 |
Boys, when I play, cry, OH! crimini |
60-61 |
3 |
Then farewell, my trim-built wherry |
62 |
3 |
Dear sir, this brown jug that now foams with mild ale |
62-63 |
3 |
Sleep on, sleep on, my Kathleen dear |
63 |
2 |
Soft zephyr, on thy balmy wing |
63 |
3 |
'Twas near a rock, within a bay |
64 |
4 |
Twins of Latona, so kind to my boon, The |
65 |
3 |
You may talk of a brogue, and of Ireland sweet nation |
65-66 |
3 |
Now driving thro' Highgate I stop'd a good while in 't |
66-67 |
5 |
Arrah Tippo, your highness, give over your fun |
68-69 |
4 |
Boder, O Mr. Dib, what d' ye mean by all that |
69-70 |
5 |
Now spring her sweets discloses |
70-71 |
3 |
O Logie of Buchan! O Logie the laird' |
71-72 |
5 |
Lass of Peaties mill, The |
72-73 |
4 |
'Twas in that season of the year |
73-74 |
4 |
Farewell to Lochaber and farewell my Jean |
74 |
3 |
Our immortal poet's page |
75-77 |
8 |
Curtis was old Hodge's wife |
77-78 |
6 |
When last from the straights we had fairly cast anchor |
78-79 |
3 |
Passing bell was heard to toll, The |
79-80 |
5 |
O fortune, how strangely thy gifts are awarded |
81-82 |
8 |
When first I went to school it was all my delight |
82-83 |
5 |
Night reigns around, in sleep's soft arms |
84 |
3 |
To Anacreon in Heaven where he sat in full glee |
84-86 |
6 |
Echoing horn calls the sportsmen abroad, The |
86-87 |
2 |
Plague of those musty old lubbers, A |
87-88 |
4 |
O'er barren hills, and flowry dales |
88-89 |
3 |
Young Teddy is an Irish lad |
88-90 |
3 |
Tuneful lavrocks cheer the grove, The |
90 |
3 |
Oh the hours I have past in the arms of my dear |
91 |
3 |
Sweet music wakes the May day morn |
91-92 |
3 |
Young Sandy's gone to kirk, I ken |
92-93 |
3 |
Indeed, miss, such sweethearts as I am |
93 |
4 |
I'm lonesome since I cross'd the hill |
94 |
4 |
World's a strange world, child, it must be confest, The |
95 |
2 |
Miss Jenny, don't think that I care for you |
95-96 |
3 |