“Nae eastlin blast,” the sprite replied;
     “It blaws na here sae fierce and fell,
     And on my dry and halesome banks
     Nae canker-worms get leave to dwell: 
     Man! cruel man!” the genius sighed—­
     As through the cliffs he sank him down—­
     “The worm that gnaw’d my bonie trees,
     That reptile wears a ducal crown."^1

The Gallant Weaver

     Where Cart rins rowin’ to the sea,
     By mony a flower and spreading tree,
     There lives a lad, the lad for me,
     He is a gallant Weaver. 
     O, I had wooers aught or nine,
     They gied me rings and ribbons fine;
     And I was fear’d my heart wad tine,
     And I gied it to the Weaver.

     My daddie sign’d my tocher-band,
     To gie the lad that has the land,
     But to my heart I’ll add my hand,
     And give it to the Weaver. 
     While birds rejoice in leafy bowers,
     While bees delight in opening flowers,
     While corn grows green in summer showers,
     I love my gallant Weaver.

     [Footnote 1:  The Duke of Queensberry.]

Epigram At Brownhill Inn^1

     At Brownhill we always get dainty good cheer,
     And plenty of bacon each day in the year;
     We’ve a’ thing that’s nice, and mostly in season,
     But why always Bacon—­come, tell me a reason?

     You’re Welcome, Willie Stewart

     Chorus.—­You’re welcome, Willie Stewart,
     You’re welcome, Willie Stewart,
     There’s ne’er a flower that blooms in May,
     That’s half sae welcome’s thou art!

     Come, bumpers high, express your joy,
     The bowl we maun renew it,
     The tappet hen, gae bring her ben,
     To welcome Willie Stewart,
     You’re welcome, Willie Stewart, &c.

     May foes be strang, and friends be slack
     Ilk action, may he rue it,
     May woman on him turn her back
     That wrangs thee, Willie Stewart,
     You’re welcome, Willie Stewart, &c.

Lovely Polly Stewart

     Chorus.—­O lovely Polly Stewart,
     O charming Polly Stewart,
     There’s ne’er a flower that blooms in May,
     That’s half so fair as thou art!

     The flower it blaws, it fades, it fa’s,
     And art can ne’er renew it;
     But worth and truth, eternal youth
     Will gie to Polly Stewart,
     O lovely Polly Stewart, &c.

     [Footnote 1:  Bacon was the name of a presumably intrusive host. 
     The lines are said to have “afforded much amusement.”—­Lang]

     May he whase 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, &c.