Page

Written in Friars Carse Hermitage, .

Ode to the Memory of Mrs.

Elegy on Captain Matthew Henderson,

Lament of Mary Queen of Scots,

To Robert Graham, Esq. of Fintra,

298

of

315

Lament for James, Earl of Glencairn,

320

Lines sent to Sir John Whitefoord, with the foregoing

Poem,

324

Tam o' Shanter. A Tale, .

On seeing a wounded hare a fellow had shot at,

Address to the Shade of Thomson,

Epitaph on a celebrated Ruling Elder,

on a noisy Polemic,

on Wee Johnny,

for the Author's Father,

for R. A. Esq.

G. H. Esq.

A Bard's Epitaph,

On Captain Grose's Peregrinations,

On Miss Cruikshanks, .

Song,

"Anna, thy charms my bosom fire,"

On the Death of John M'Leod,

Humble Petition of Bruar Water,

On scaring some Water-fowl,

Written at the Inn at Taymouth,

at the Fall of Fyers,

On the Birth of a Posthumous Child, .

The Whistle,

Second Epistle to Davie, a Brother Poet,

APPENDIX, containing some particulars of the His-

tory of the Poems in this Volume, by GILBERT

Late crippl'd of an arm, and now a leg,
Let other poets raise a fracas,

My lord, I know, your noble ear,

My lov'd, my honour'd, much respected friend!
No churchman am I for to rail and to write,
Now Nature hangs her mantle green,
Now westlin winds and slaught'ring guns,
Oppress'd with grief, oppress'd with care,
O Death! thou tyrant fell and bloody!
O rough, rude, ready-witted R**

Page

393

247

208

O Thou dread Pow'r, who reign'st above!

O Thou Great Being, what thou art,
O Thou pale orb, that silent shines,
O Thou, the first, the greatest friend!
O Thou unknown, Almighty Cause,
O Thou! whatever title suit thee,

O ye wha are sae guid yoursel,
O ye whose cheek the tear of pity stains,
Right Sir! your text I'll prove it true,

Sad thy tale, thou idle page,

Some books are lies frae end to end,
Stop passenger! my story's brief,
Sweet Flow'ret, pledge o' meikle love,
The gloomy night is gath'ring fast,
The man, in life, wherever plac'd, .
The poor man weeps--here G----n sleeps,
The simple Bard, rough at the rustic plough,
The sun had clos'd the winter day, .

19

.

The wind blew hollow frae the hills,
The wintry west extends his blast,
There was three kings into the east,
Thou whom chance may hither lead,
Thou, who thy honour as thy God rever'st,
"Twas in that place o' Scotland's isle,
Upon a simmer Sunday morn,
Upon that night, when fairies light,
Wee, modest, crimson-tipped flower,
Wee, sleekit, cow'rin, tim'rous beastie,
When biting Boreas, fell and doure,
When chapman billies leave the street,
When chill November's surly blast,
When Guildford good our pilot stood,
While briers an' woodbines budding green,
While new-ca'd kye rout at the stake,
While virgin spring, by Eden's flood,
While winds frae aff Ben Lomond blaw,
Whoe'er thou art, O reader know,
Why am I loth to leave this earthly scene
Why, ye tenants of the lake,

With musing deep, astonish'd stare,
Ye Irish lords, ye knights an' squires,

POEMS,

CHIEFLY

SCOTTISH.

THE TWA DOGS,

A TALE.

"TWAS in that place o' Scotland's isle,
That bears the name o' Auld King Coil,
Upon a bonnie day in June,

When wearing thro' the afternoon,
Twa dogs that were na thrang at hame,
Forgather'd ance upon a time.

VOL. III.

The