The Campbells are coming, O-ho, O-ho,

511

The Lord's Marie has keppit her locks,

The laird o' Cockpen, he's proud an' he's great,

The lass o' Patie's mill,

The last of our steers on the board has been spread,

The last time I cam o'er the muir,

The lovely lass of Inverness,

The luve that I hae chosen,

178

The Lowland lads they think they're fine,

256

The moon had climbed the highest hill,

513

The moon's on the lake, and the mist's on the brae,

633

The muckin' o' Geordie's byre,

418

The poets, what fools they're to deave us,

The nine-pint bicker's faun aff the bink,

668

The quaker's wife sat down to bake,

ib.

The small birds rejoice in the green leaves returning,

PAGE

There are three score and ten o' us,

547

There are two ponny maitens,

409

There cam a young man to my daddie's door,

334

There grows a bonnie briar bush,

439

There's a lad in this town has a fancy for me,

663

There's kames o' hinnie 'tween my love's lips,
There's news, lasses, news,

There's nought but care on every hand,
There's some say that we wan,

There was an auld wife had a wee pickle tow,
There was anes a May, and she loo'd na men,

There was a jollie beggar, and a-begging he was bound,
There was a jolly miller once,

There was a lass, and she was fair,

498

642

326

408

249

321

358

The sun has gane down on the lofty Ben Lomond,

The widow can bake, and the widow can brew,

PAGE

To danton me, and me sae young,

To the Lords of Convention 'twas Clavers who spoke,

359

685

'Twas even, the dewy fields were green,

320

'Twas in that season of the year,

356

'Twas na her bonnie blue een was my ruin,

637

"Twas on a Monday morning,

540

"Twas summer tide, the cushat sang,

650

'Twas when the wan leaf frae the birk tree was fa'en,

357

What can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie,

524

Wha the devil hae we gotten for a king,

296

When first my dear laddie gaed to the green hill,

625

When o'er the hills the eastern star,

When our ancient forefathers agreed wi' the laird,
When Phoebus bright the azure skies,
When Rosie was faithful, how happy was I,

When silent time, wi' lightly foot,

When summer comes, the swains on Tweed,

When the sun gaes down, when the sun gaes down,

When the sheep are in the fauld,

When trees did bud, and fields were green,

When we cam to London town,

648

While larks with little wing,
Why weep ye by the tide, ladye,
Willie was a wanton wag,
Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed,
Will ye gang o'er the lea-rig,
Will ye gang wi' me, Lizzy Lindsay,
Will ye go to Flanders, my Mally O,
Will ye go to Sherramuir,

Will ye go to the Indies, my Mary,
Will ye go to the yowe-buchts, Marion,
Wilt thou be my dearie,

Ye banks and braes and streams around,
Ye banks and braes o' bonnie Doon,
Ye gales that gently wave the sea,
Ye gallants braw, I rede ye right,
Yestreen I had a pint o' wine,
You meaner beauties of the night,

624

Young Jockie was the blythest lad,

518

You're welcome, Whigs, from Bothwell brig,

500

You've surely heard o' famous Neil,

525

THE END.

EDINBURGH:

PRINTED BY BALLANTYNE AND COMPANY,

PAUL'S WORK, CANONGATE.