{"1": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4502", "width": "2714", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0001.jp2"}, "2": {"fulltext": "Class.\\nBook.\\nFT? 554- ^T\\nnr.\\n5 5", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0002.jp2"}, "3": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0003.jp2"}, "4": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0004.jp2"}, "5": {"fulltext": "JUL\\nJP O E M S 9\\nCHIEFLY IN\\nTHE SCOTTISH DIALECT.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0005.jp2"}, "6": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4179", "width": "2343", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0006.jp2"}, "7": {"fulltext": "POEM S.\\nfv^rw\\nCHIEFLY IN\\nTHE SCOTTISH DIALECT,\\nBY\\nWILLfAM TARRAS.\\nOn beauties of the rural dells,\\nThe Poet s foul enraptur d dwell?.\\nEDINBURGH:\\nPRINTED BY J. PfLLANS SONS, LAWNMARKET\\nSOLD BY DENHAM DICK, EDINBURGH J. MORIS C^\\nPERTH AND W. KNIGHT, ABERDEEN*\\nl804-", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0007.jp2"}, "8": {"fulltext": "fc.m-", "height": "4179", "width": "2263", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0008.jp2"}, "9": {"fulltext": "C O JV T E MT S.\\nPag,\\ndk. Pastoral Eclogue en the Death of James\\nAdamson, A. M. I\\nMr M s Request to write an Elegy on W* Lori-\\nmer 8\\nThe Answer 9\\nLorimer s Elegy 10\\nOde 14\\nHoup cherisheth the Saui 15\\nEpistle to J**** m 20\\nT6 the Mountain-Daisie in Autumn 29\\nEpistle to a Friend 31\\nTo my Auld Hat 37\\nAddress to Sautie 39\\nJock Downie s lost 43\\nThe Muse, and Poet. A dialogue 45\\nThe Cadgers Mare. A Tale to a Young Friend 49\\nA Relation of the Death of J**** a**** s Dog\\nSpottie 56", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0009.jp2"}, "10": {"fulltext": "n CON TENTS.\\nPag.\\nTo J**** a****, on hearing that a Girl was with\\nchild to him 59\\nOn the Rev. Mr B****** s Absolution from the\\nChurch 60\\nFastren s E en 63\\nSong, Tune Last time I came o er the moor 74\\nSong, Tune Humours of Glen 75\\nSong, Tune Lass of Livingston 76\\nSong, Tune Wat ye wha I met yestreen 78\\nSong, Tune- Tweedside 80\\nSong, Tune Roslin Castle ib.\\nSong, Tune\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Et trick Banks 82\\nSong, Tune\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Roslin Castle 83\\nSong, Tune She rose an loot me in\\nSong, O er heath- clad moors and desart wilds 84\\nAn Invitation to the Daisie in Spring 87\\nTo the Music-Bells of Perth 88\\nMid-Summer Fair, Perth 91\\nOn seeing W G n sleeping in the Kirk 98\\nEpitaph on a Wag in S******* 100\\nfor a Noted Lawyer ib.\\nEor T**** W****** of F******* 10;\\nfor a Friend ib*\\nTo the Friendly Society of S******* ib.\\nOde wrote in Summer to J*** G*****, Esq. of\\nEpistle to J. F****** t lQ 6", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0010.jp2"}, "11": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS. VII\\nPag.\\nA Pastoral Eclogue on the Death of Dr James\\nBeattie, late Professor of Moral Philosophy\\nin Marishal College, Aberdeen 104\\nAn Ode, with a Pastoral Recitative, on the\\nMarriage of his Grace the Duke of Bedford\\nand Lady Georgina Gordon 118\\nEpigram 122\\nTo Mr C\u00e2\u0080\u0094 on reading some of his ex-\\ncellent Poems 1 23\\nSong, Tune Humours of Glen, (to the Athole\\nVolunteers 124\\nWritten on the Author s Return to Buchan,\\n1801, 125\\nThe Blacksmith to his Auld Bellows, on remo-\\nving her, 128\\nOn seeing a Lady s Bonnet fall off 13a\\nOde, written in December 1 803 ib.\\nA Petitory Epistle to Mr Addington 132\\nLines written on a blank leaf of Fergusson s\\nPoems, 139\\nSpoken to a Young Lady about to be married to\\nan old ill-favoured Batchelor 240\\nElegy on Sautie ib.\\nEpigram on the Death of a Noted Lawyer 144\\nHis Answer to the Epigram 145\\nGlossary, 147", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0011.jp2"}, "12": {"fulltext": "E R R.A TA.\\nPag. 4. lint 9. for muses read muse s\\n7. 16. yor reekie rawf reeskle\\n18. 24* for ass-howie read ass-dowie\\n22. 4. for gang read gan\\n33. 14. y\u00c2\u00a3r way raj bay\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a24. 37. 13. f r tath rai*/ that\\n_ 40. 1T for can read canst\\n40. 23. y#r kens r\u00c2\u00ab /kenst\\n47. 3. ^br peekl d roo/peel d\\n55. 4. yir puckcle read puckle\\nSI 9 *9 e read Yew there is like me weel fails\\nme\\n58. 17. yir frhise read thilse\\n70 i8,yir bewrill t rar bcwilFt", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0012.jp2"}, "13": {"fulltext": "POEMS,\\nCHIEFLY IN THE\\nSCOTTISH DIALECT\\nSANDIE, ARCHIE, AND ROBIE j\\nA Pastoral Eclogue en the Death of James\\nAdaMSON, A. M* Inscribed to the honourable\\nperson designed hy SANLIM\\nSandie, the blythest shepherd o* the green,\\nGowden his locks, like starns his mirky een\\nHis chackit plaid the speckFt spink outvies\\nTo imitate his sangs ilk callan tries,\\nAn nature s sell hath finish d him sae tight,\\nTo see or hear him clatter is delight.\\nAt dawn o day, by wee st peep o* light,\\nWe see his sheep thrang nibblin on the height,\\nHim near the burn, wi willow shaded linn,\\nDammin the gush, to gar his rash-mill rin,\\nA\\nMrR\u00e2\u0080\u0094 of A", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0013.jp2"}, "14": {"fulltext": "2\\nO little kens he what betides the day\\nNear gyte for Adie fou he tunes his lay\\nTill gleg-lug d echo tak her dinsome rout,\\nAn lav rocks light to join the gleesome lute.\\nArchie fu vertie, owre the moorlan spangs\\nIlk strype and stank nae doubt he itchift langs\\nTo crack wi San and hear his catchie glees,\\nOr rear a bow r o wattle frae the trees,\\nTo shade themsels at noon-tide frae the bleeze.\\nSANDIE.\\nSweet snuffs the morn now, Archie, let us gang\\nTo yon whin-brae an hear auld Adie s sang\\nThe lift is clearin, an the day breaks up\\nOur droukit lambs the dew-wat heather crup\\nIlk knap and brae smiles sweet in simmer dead,\\nAn a the birdies lilt in tunefu meed\\nThro by your plaid come haste and dinna stay,\\nBang out your flute, twill steal us on the way.\\nARCHIE.\\nHout, trowna man, I vow it is o er sien\\nThe sun new waken d scaYce hath raik d his een\\nFew herds are out what mak s ye n sic a flught\\nAn Adie s sheep s a bleating i the bucht.\\nSANDIE.\\nHech aren they out I m fairlyfu o that;\\n,Whan a the lav rock s mang the brier-rigs chat,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0014.jp2"}, "15": {"fulltext": "3\\nAn bum-bike drones gang soughin thro the trees,\\nAn* a* the eastlin welkin s in a bleeze.\\nARCHIE.\\nBut there comes Robie, flaught-braid down the brae\\nHow wild he glowrs, like some daft brownie-bae.\\nHis bonnet s afF, an s hair amang his een 5\\nHis hose hing down, an* twa auld sklytes o sheen\\nAre on his feet, an s breeks unbutton d hing\\nHis tike rins sidelins wouffin by the spring\\nMy heart bodes ill, eftsoons, sae wad it seem j\\nThere s skaith when he s in sic a madden dream*\\nROBIE.\\nWhat s i your min daft simpletons o youth,\\nThat ye gang singan, free o wae or ruth\\nIt sets ye ill to brattle about the thorn,\\nWhile ither herds rin greetin and forlorn\\nAn weel t beseems the cantiest earthly shot,\\nFor this Stan s sair in ilka shepherd s lot.\\nSANDIE,\\nWhat ails thee, Robert hath auld Sautie s wierd,\\nFortauld that ye maun corse some luckless fierd\\nOr hath the gled or foomart, skaithfu beast,\\nStown afF the lintie gordlins frae the nest,\\nThat ye maist scare our lammies frae their pluck,\\nAn* flegg d us sae, that we statf studdie struck", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0015.jp2"}, "16": {"fulltext": "C 4\\nFufF, Robie man chear up your dowie saul\\nThe ley s nae grae, nor is the weather caul.\\nGar Rosie plump the kirn till butter come\\nSyne tak your chat, an never fash your thumb.\\nWhat doors come owre the herds of Mormond brae.\\nThat they sud fyke an skool in dorty wae\\nROBIE.\\nAre ye a tenan o* this whin-thack d brae,\\nAn kens na what s befaun the herds the day f\\nAre ye a sangscer o the muses fancied reed,\\nAn kens na, man, that liltin Adie s dead\\nSANDIE.\\nHech s that the hum Q mirth be far awa\\nDead tak your words, an say he s i the ha\\nKeen clootin s hose, or steeking s ragged sheen j\\nOr rearin s ingle on the clean hearth-stane.\\nROBIE.\\nO willawins I wis that tale were true\\nCast up your een, and view yon hillock s brow,\\nWhere mony a day we four hae merry been,\\nFrae tunefu twilight to the sober e en.\\nThat canty knap, tho in its brawest dead,\\nGoups infant proud abeen the decent mead\\nWi a its sangs, what joy dis it reveal,\\nSin he s nae mair that sang sae sweet an weeh.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0016.jp2"}, "17": {"fulltext": "5\\nARCHIE.\\nMy head s gane dizzy O ye vvarld vain\\nAe blink o joy, and twa o care an* pain\\nCaller to sec him, sound o lith an lim\\nHis lug was gleg, nor was his sight aught dim j\\nHis voice was shrill s the lav rock s notes at dawn,\\nWhen he in tift wad sing the Mantuan swain,\\nWhich he aft shaw d s adown the burry-bush,\\nOr whare the burn comes down wi rairin gush j\\nHis mem ry bright, for well he cou d divine,\\nAn* spak o ferlies that war gane langsyne.\\nCompar d the prefent, and wi raptur d thought,\\nBlest freedom s race now dwynin into nought\\nFrae a the plain he surely bore the bell\\nNae Johnie s lear that cou d his praises tell.\\n\u00c2\u00abANl IE.\\nDown i the glen whare gentle Eugle rfns,\\nI mind it weel, amang the w T hislin whins,\\nHe aft doup t down, to shade him frae the blast\\nSyne wad a cry d, fu coothie s I gaed past,\\nCome here, young Sandie, snuff wi me awe?*\\nAn I ll lilt you auld Jonnie s Tullle s glee,\\nSae wad he sung, till I amaist forgat,\\nAn thought it dry, however sair it wat.\\nMr Skinner, author of the popular song of TuBech-\\ngorum, and several other excellent pieces,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0017.jp2"}, "18": {"fulltext": "6\\nWhat wond rous taies at his clear ingle cheek,\\nFrae canty Allan, or the herdies tveek\\nDark winter-nights, did e er we think them Iang,\\nWhan we had hap to hear his canty sang\\nLat hail or drift on lums, or winnocks flaff,\\nHe held the bink-side in an endless gaufF,\\nWi catchie glees, some o his ain up-mak,\\nWhich a confess he had an unco knack.\\nBut whare s the tongue that cou d his praises tell\\nFrae ilka herd he surely bcre the bell.\\nROBIE.\\nOr whan the simmer giant wi nature braw,\\nAyon the cleugh, down i the green* clad shaw,\\nWhare suckle tracks the canty soughin bees,\\nWhare birdies sing and flitter mang. the trees,\\nHe aft wad trystit s a to tak a rest,\\nAn flegg d the hours sae fast, ye wadna wist,\\nWi 1 Jamie s sangs, o music s sweetest strain f, s\\nShawin the glee whare ilka glee made fain.\\nNor s that alane, the beauties of his mind,\\nFor ev ry guid was in his saul combin d,\\nAn steady wit, forbye, what glees he sung,\\nAnd purest morals drapit frae his tongue.\\nIn adverse fate to soothe us he was near 5\\nDid mis ry groan, fits pity gave a tear\\nGay s Shepherd s Week. f Beattis s Mimtrcu", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0018.jp2"}, "19": {"fulltext": "C 7\\nWeel may we say, nane can his praises tell 5\\nOwre ilka herd he surely bore the bell.\\nARCHIE.\\nThen let s gie owre (for what ll t add or eek\\nThe briny tear that weets the shepherd s cheek.\\nList shall his fame while burnies downward rin,\\nOr while the linnet hails the hloomin whin.\\nSANDIE.\\nAs lang s in spring the gowan rears its head,\\nAs lang s in simmer wadders cast their dead,\\nAs lang s ilk seas n progressive wheels the year.\\nThat name is sacred, and that name is deaF 1\\nROEiE.\\nNow see, our flocks are far ayont the burn,\\nLet s down by Johnie s moorlan tak a turn.\\nAn shaw him a the sorrows o our heart,\\nFor weel I wat he ll bear a heavy part.\\nSANDIE.\\nIt sets us fair, for aft we ve seen them fain,\\nDink owre tl. bent down to the reekie den\\nThen to their chanters bang wi sic a birr,\\nGar t fock rm dytit, though scarce fit to stir.\\nBut first o a we ll down to my bit cot,\\n]W this time Mellie s seeth t the brackfest pot", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0019.jp2"}, "20": {"fulltext": "8\\nTor sair I charg t her whan I cam awa\\nTo dead the board wi dainties snod and braW,\\nTo entertain auld Adie, you, an irie,\\nThat we might spen* the day wi mirth an glee,\\nTo sloe!: our drouth s a knag o berry brown,\\nWhich Symmie coft last glomin i* the town\\nOur cheeks are bleer t, our hearts are warsh and raw,\\nTwill drown our sorrow, an ca care awa j\\nFling on your plaids wi haste, an binna slaw.\\nMr M s Requejl to write an ELEGY qn W. LORX-\\nMERy a famous performer on the Bag-pipe.\\nAe night on yon fag-theekit brae,\\nI streek t my wearie spauls o clay,\\nBang t out my flute, and gan to play.,\\nIn merry meed\\nWhan something gasp t and grain d, hum-hae X\\nWill Lor mer s dead\\nNae ferlie, though it piere e my saul,\\nI pegh t, I hegh t, syne cry d, Waul f waul\\nAn near han* dead, I ssay d to baul\\nSome dirge-like sonnet\\nIt twigg t my lug, an cry d, O yaul\\nTak afF vir bonnet.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0020.jp2"}, "21": {"fulltext": "9\\nHalt, frien quo I, let s ken yir drift,\\nAfore my doup frae this knap lift,\\nu My pipe bein in elegiac tift,\\nw It needs nae treeshin,\\nw I ll blaw t as lang s my craig can rift,\\nFor that musician.\\nWeel, be it sae, quo it, and pegh t,\\nCockin its bum up to my sight,\\nWhich seem t to be like some corn-wecht,\\nOr dead yowe s pellat j\\nSae aff it fudder t owre the height,\\nAs fleet s a skellat.\\nThinkin t to be the bummer s muse,\\n(I m bauld to crave without excuse),\\nI houp, my frien ye ll no refuse\\nTo tune yir reed,\\nAn sing till tuneless flieps sail roose\\nWill Lor mer dead,\\nTHE ANSWER,\\nTo sing o Will, I ll no be slack,\\nMy chanter s now in tune\\nFor wha like him had sic a knack\\nTo chear a dowie crown\\nDrinkin to hand my entrails swack,\\nB", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0021.jp2"}, "22": {"fulltext": "io\\nOr drown a carin oon,\\nI gouff t the bickers a to vrack,\\nWhan e er I saw yir croon,\\nO death the night\\nTHE ELEGY.\\nAn sing till tuneless flieps sail roose\\nWill Lor mer dead.\\nRequefi.\\nHelp, Muse, to mourn in dronin verse,\\nWild yallach till yir craig grow herse\\nThe theme ye re on, a heart wad pierce,\\nAs hard as steel\\nNae mair ye ll hear the bagpipe fierce,\\nWi tunefu squeel.\\nBuchan, Garioch, Boyne, an Mar,\\nEnlist ye in this dowie war\\nFell death, wi his lang scyth-en t spar,\\nS lent Will a rackart\\nAn* trail t him aff i his dauk car,\\nAs dead s a chackart.\\nThe day be douff in mournin mirk,\\nAn sour s the brethren o the kirk,\\nWhan he receiv t the fatal jerk,\\nYet s chanter held ay\\nTwas said, an after play d the Birk\\nO Abergeldy.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0022.jp2"}, "23": {"fulltext": "II\\nO mourn ilk sangster, far an near\\nThe joys that bless the comin year;\\nNae mair frae his gleg drone ye ll lear\\nA canty lilt\\nNow rural music s chanter clear\\nIs aff the hilt.\\nYe fells, ye dales, and hillocks mourn\\nYe todlin burns mi wheeling turn\\nYe mountains now yir heart s forlorn\\nRair to the Ikies,\\nThat stiff in death s black drearie urn\\nOur piper lies.\\nMourn, brithers o the drone and chanter I\\nThis fkaith gies you an unca canter,\\nYe ne er gat -sic a fell mishanter\\nSin e er ye li ed\\nThere s nane to ward the fiddler s banter,\\nSin Lor mer s dead.\\nWhat s waddins, feasts, foys, or fairs,\\nThat they sud crave our canty cares\\nTheir fiddlin trills, an solo airs,\\nAre maughtless meed,\\nWhan we in sable sangs rehearse,\\nAul Lor mer dead.\\nNae mair whan Winter ev nin s come^\\nWe ll hear the gleesome bagpipes hum\\nBa", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0023.jp2"}, "24": {"fulltext": "12\\nNae mair the chanter/ fa fum,\\nPlays pipe-a-leerie\\nNow ilk ane dytes wi fient a mum\\nAn O it s wearie\\nWhat odds whan rinkin browsters binks\\nGaed daft wi bickers, an wi skinks\\nWill sleekit ben, an syne he drinks\\nYe hale an soun\\nThen ilka wanter wudlins jinks\\nTo hear a tune.\\nThen Tullie gart ilk carlie jinkit,\\nTill caps an trunchers rair t and rinkit 5\\nAuld carlins at the lum-side winkit,\\nTo see them flitter\\nHet fuddlers sprang the cork, and linkit,\\nTill they wad\\nO rare to hear his Maggy Lauder\\nGart younkers o the lee-rigs gadder\\nInspir d wi J glee, the lowns rin madder,\\nTill lasses canter\\ncc Fatrecks ^uo Will, f* it needs nae badder,\\nTwas H Rob the ranter.\\nItalian trills he cudna wi them\\nWi dear strathspeys he aft wad glee them\\nBut whan fell death had come to see them,\\nAn gi en a habber,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0024.jp2"}, "25": {"fulltext": "C 13\\nWi solemn air, fu ciouce he d gie them\\nNo more Lochaber\\nHow canty was iik summer glomin,\\nWhan gleesome herds war hameward comin,\\nTo hear his chearie pibrochs bummin\\nAyont the loch\\nTo list the soun throw birk-trees hummin\\n\u00e2\u0080\u00a2Ran ilka droch.\\nO cud our cries or tears bring back\\nThe^man that we sincerely lack\\nHow soon sud Euchan hear the fact,\\nAn cease her sorrow\\nAn aince again renew the knack,\\nTo ride to Turra\\nBut och he s gane, an left us a\\nTo sob an maunt, an greet an blaw\\nThe time soughs on, whan we maun fa\\nSae late or soon\\nWe hcup to see the bodie braw\\nAyont the moon.\\nTHE EPITAPH,\\nThe dowie for their dead may mourn,\\nAn drap a sympathising tear\\nTurrefF, a village in Banffshire, famous for merriment\\nhence he is faid to be riding to Turra, who is merry.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0025.jp2"}, "26": {"fulltext": "i4\\nBut what is that, whan mirth s forlorn,\\nAn weeps for him that s liggin here\\nODE,\\nWritten, January I. 1803.\\nI.\\nJL he new year comes then stir the tipple\\nI see the auld ane craz d an cripple,\\nGangs aff wi mony a rair\\nLat s try this income, how 8 he stands,\\nAn eik us sib by shakin hands\\nSee gin he smells o care.\\nYes by my saul, I see his snout\\nHe is a darlin boy 5\\nCome swig the stingo roun about,\\nAn* toast the auld chiel s foy.\\nYir wizzent, yir gizzent,\\nWi blyter t grief and sorrow\\nSae rant it, gallant it,\\nAn houp braw things to-morrow.\\nII.\\nHe surely is a heartless sumph,\\nThat lolls about the ingle dumph,\\nOn sic a day as this\\nWhan a* fhou d rant it in a ring,\\nAn sweeng their poortith in a firing,\\nAnd muckle pint-cap kiss.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0026.jp2"}, "27": {"fulltext": "15\\nWhat s that to you, tho drumly flieps\\nSit thinkin on their weirds,\\nTheir black mishanters, ebbs and deeps\\nAt corsin o life s fierds\\nBe chearie, nir wearie,\\nAn there s my loyal thumb,*\\nYe ll fend it, an end it,\\nWithout a drowsie hum,\\nHOUP CHERISH ETH THE SAUL,\\nI.\\nJlAoup, love, an joy, a gleesome core,\\nPerhaps to scan my rustic lore,\\nInspire my muse to sing;\\nWhile I wi houp elate an vain,\\nEye love wi sweet bewitchin mien,\\nAn joy to strike the string.\\nLove disappear d, an in her stead,\\nA train o* black despair\\nI look d, but, lo my joy had fled,\\nAn left me restless care,\\nThat gaird me, that pall d me s\\nHad not a fancied call\\nCry d, Fear na, nir steer na,\\nHoup cherisheth the sauL", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0027.jp2"}, "28": {"fulltext": "16\\nII.\\nHow fleeting are the joys \u00c2\u00abf life\\nHow fickle are our loves when rife\\nAn backward as they re vain\\nYet houp the chearer o the mind,\\nCan tend us gainst an adverse wind,\\nAn yark baith care an pain.\\nThe scool o Property may nip,\\nAn Pomp may shaw disdain\\nPoortith may your carcase grip,\\nAn Need your pouch may drain\\nTo jeer ye, to bleer ye,\\nSickness gouts your spaul\\nBut a that, to fa that/\\nHoup cherisheth the saul.\\nIII.\\nWhan blissfu days o gleesome youth,\\nWhan artless tales, an sangs uncouth,\\nShamm d aff the hinglin hours\\nDid e er we think o winter near,\\nOr age, when gray our fronts appear,\\nAn ev ry pleasure sours;\\nNae mirth, nae joy, then glads the ear,\\nNae harmony maks fain\\nWi dowie thought we downwith wear;\\nIlk day increases pain*", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0028.jp2"}, "29": {"fulltext": "i7\\nOur heart, then, wad part then,\\nWhan blood is thin an caul\\nBut sure, sirs, dk hour, sirs,\\nHoup cherisheth the saul.\\nIV.\\nO want that flinty-heartit knave,\\nMak s mony a gen rous heart a slave,\\nAn shuns some scurvy tykes,\\nWhase nieve wad grudge to spare a plack,\\nTo pang the kyte, or dead the back,\\nO misery s countless bikes.\\nWhan social neiboursowre a cap\\nWad mint to drop ilk care,\\nWani minds them on a thackless scaup,\\nWi a their pouches bare.\\nThat fears us, nay tears us\\nAn yet when young or aul 9\\nTo bang that, and whang that,\\nHoup cherisheth the sauU\\nV.\\nYe partizans o folly s squad,\\nWhase passion will not bin nor haud,\\nWi mad-cap d hair-brain d rantin,\\nWhare will ye land, when days o grief\\nCome sleekin in, like midnight thief,\\nAn nails vir mad-leed vauntin s\\nc", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0029.jp2"}, "30": {"fulltext": "is\\nOch on I my vera fabric faggs,\\nTo think o crazy bancs,\\nMethinks I see ye xpire in rags\\nAn hear yir piteous granes.\\nThen be it sae, I see it sae\\nYe hae nae ither paul,\\nThat lifts ye, and tifts ye,\\nBut hope that ehears the sauL\\nVI.\\nYe neibours douce and even down*.\\nWha ne er experienced a stoun,\\nOr ragglish backward snib.\\nBut canny throw your vista jogs,\\nAn* wily wards, misfortune s bogs*\\nAn laips ilk dainty drib\\nYe re happy when auld age links in,\\nTo craze your weel-hain d banes*\\nFu canty may ye cock your chin,\\nAnd smile at ways an -means\\nWhile ithers, yir britbers*\\nCan claim nor house nor hal*;\\nHas naething, but ae thing,\\nThat s houp which ehears the saul\\nVII.\\nMy heart aft natters gaunt wi spleen.\\nTo glum ass-howie a my lane,\\nAn ripe a plackless pouch,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0030.jp2"}, "31": {"fulltext": "C 19\\nAn* tho I Mvance a word o sense,\\nSome sumph gets up, scull proud o pence,\\nAn slieth-like bids me couch.\\nThe power of pelf gangs right far ben,\\nAn lifts up wo\u00c2\u00bbms to honor;\\nGars reverence be paid to men,\\nForgetting aft the donor 5\\nBelieve me, they grieve me^\\nAn aften gar me scaul\\nI d shawthat, wer t na that\\nHoup chensheth the sauL\\nVIII.\\nBut what s this life a varied day\\nWhiles sulky sour, whiles blinkin gay,\\nOur hours progressive wheel\\nWere t no for houp, that darling bliss,\\nThat cheers us wi a fancied kis%\\nOur very hearts wou d geah\\nAn then when pith an years are spenf*\\nAnd death bangs surly in,\\nThen houp s the only leaning bent\\nFor unrepented sin.\\nIt chears us it bears us,\\nWhen dowie we would fall\\nThro life then, ills rife then,\\nHoup cherisheth the sauL\\nCa", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0031.jp2"}, "32": {"fulltext": "20\\nEPISTLE TO J**** Z****,\\nFrae Mormond s laigh, a mooiland cock,\\nJust like a tailor i the yock,\\nFidges sair that he s sae dowie,\\nWi clautit kitt an empty bowie\\nYet on the tither han he s vauntie,\\nAn sings an habbers blythe aa cantie,\\nThat he has friends in spite o faes,\\nLevel yird in spite o braes j\\nLasses that baith nip and pike im\\nLasses that right dearly like im\\nHale o lith, nae skaith d wi beam- shin;\\nBlest wi a shot o rustic gumption\\nYir friendship courts in h^me-spun verse.\\nGin ye ll consent, he ll cock his birse,\\nAn maunt an blaw his chanter fu\\nThat he s acquaint wi ane like you\\nWhase lilts wad gar a Quaker blinter,\\nAn busk the daisie braw in winter.\\nBlest days when Caledonian singers,\\nCan gar the southerns bite their fingers\\nAn girn wi spite that they re sae dung\\nWi as they say, a codroch tongue,\\nAn chiels that hae nor wit, nor mense,\\nNor ken a shilling by sixpence.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0032.jp2"}, "33": {"fulltext": "21\\nBut yaltie billies, steek your gab,\\nAn* fore wc fidge, let s hae the scab\\nThere s chaps been here that kent guid breeding,\\nAn s prais d our havins, wit, an feeding.\\nAn for our bards, we are sae giftit,\\nTheir fame cannot be owre far 1 if tit.\\nBlvthe All.e held ye out o langer,\\nHis muse, what syren s lilts ere dang ei\\nNiest Fekgie gart ye snufFan snivel,\\nAn Ro3iL wis the vera devil\\nAn sae yir pows wi satire knytit,\\nSic capers dang ye downright dytit.\\nNow J**** s lear your harn- pan hammers.\\nOut o the fire into the aimers,\\nAn scads ye sae on wing like fa con,\\nYe H soon be mute as ony maukin.\\nBut, Sir, as I wis kindness cravin,\\nI d maist forgot wi 5 satire laivin\\nI m fain, afore my lines ye scan,\\nOr sentence me an ass or man,\\nTo gie you here, in verse descriptive,\\nMy out an inside eke perspective.\\nThat whan a carlie a hath notfc,\\nYe ll sol e this question, Wha wis t wrote it\\nBy size, an mak, birth, arf ation\\nTitles, honours, riches, station", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0033.jp2"}, "34": {"fulltext": "22\\nCreed an* lear, age an nature\\ntire o* pow, an fire o feature\\nFortune fair, or adverse shanter,\\nSin I first gang to loup or canter.\\nInprimiS) then, I m Scotland born t\\nNane subject t Amalthea s horn.\\nMy ancestors might be frae Sweden,\\nFor onie thing that I hae read in\\nOr Saxon Athelms, now a rarity\\nOr knights o 5 the order o Christian charity\\nOr high extract o Julius Caesar j\\nOr keeper o auld Croesus treasure.\\nBe t as it will, throwin aff ilk notion,\\nMy lot is cast in modern Goshen\\n(Tho some dry-bobs wi censure boilin,\\nMaintain its but a backgaun Island)\\nTho not wi wights o rank to beau it,\\nYet as a gray back-lallan Poet j\\nTho not wi thanes an lairds to spank it,\\nLife, an life thinkin, L ~d be thankit.\\nWi braws I seldom cock my biskit,\\nNor a-la-mode do mean to frisk it 9\\nThinkin it best to be owre-laid in\\nA suit o* sonsy hap-warm plaidin\\nTo bang the nippin frosts o winter,\\nAn fend the heat o simmer s Winter.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0034.jp2"}, "35": {"fulltext": "C 23\\nFor poets dinna care a sneeshin,\\nFor philosoph, or yet physician;\\nDepending on the second sight,\\nWhich tents them thro the daukest night,\\nSecundo) niest, my clay-built fabric,\\nIs nae lank lang waist, nir is t a breek.\\nSae dinna think Fm pride-extortion d,\\nTho vain to say, Fm near proportion^\\nMy height 11 measure se enty inches,\\nAn five span neath my oxter kinches.\\nAn for the charter o* my span,\\nThe date s last cent ry eighty-one,\\nTho* time s been fell, I ne er gaed sarkless^\\nNor ever claw d a caput barkless.\\nBlest wi a smick o hame content,\\nI ward skaith o the moorlan bent.\\nMy visage black, an* nae ways lusty\\nA proof my fending s nae sae gusty\\nBut yet wi* that I never quarrel,\\nBe t aiten-scon, or barley-farle.\\nI hae nae wife to scaul or canker,\\nYet after a I sometimes hanker\\nWi queans, some hint, I aft stravaig it,\\nAltho there is nae livin plague yet.\\nNow ye may think Fm doufFan feckless\\nThe case is clear, my pouch is plackless", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0035.jp2"}, "36": {"fulltext": "H\\nWhich gars them compliment some chiel,\\nWha kniefly kythes in snugger biel,\\nThat saves me frae the session s glamack,\\nWhich erumnates and lanks the stamack.\\nI ve fae s, tis true, but friends I ve plenty\\nJ M is a caliant daintie\\nAuld A cheers me in a swither^\\nAn F loves me like a brither.\\nJ D s a lad, I ll say politic,\\nAn M is a nippin critic\\nAn yet sic honest sauls an civil,\\nThat I cou d dog them to the devil.\\nYir daddy wis a canty carle,\\nA friendlier saul ne er blest the warl*\\nFor monie a day we twa hae been\\nRight cantie on the simmer-green.\\nWhan I had hap to be at G\\nI ne er sat wi an empty stamack j\\nNor mum, like virtuosos sour,\\nBut fleg t awa a lazy hour,\\nWi rairin glees, or clitter clatter\\nNor did we drink o gilpin water.\\nBut reemin nap wi houp weel heartit,\\nAn dram o whifky whan we partit.\\nAn sic a kindly honest man,\\nI cou d wi him ha* spun my span t", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0036.jp2"}, "37": {"fulltext": "C 25\\nAn feelin sauls are fouk the best 0%\\nThat e en the kirk fouk s no possest o*.\\nBut peevish neargawin wights an* cunnin,\\nAn for the maist part bent on winnin\\nAdvancin things wi Deil haet grun in,\\nAn L d, he s o an ebb extraction,\\nThat lippens to the kirk s protection 5\\nHe s sookit to the last extortion,\\nAn cauld an hunger is his portion.\\nNow, tertio, Sir, this leads me on,\\nTo shaw ye my true gospel-groan j\\nBelievin facts, nae rupture furious,\\nNor am I deep grun t, porin curious,\\nNor forrat am, to ram my snout in\\nO things that I might after doubt in.\\nRight careless, wi an empty girnel,\\nIf cautiousness protect my kirnel,\\nFrae fiends that might me downward hurl.\\nAn scadd me in anither warle.\\nBelievin Job a wight o patience\\nDavid a terror to a nations\\nNoah a lover o the claret\\nBalaam s ass sib to a parrot\\nSolomon s proverbs mor is o worth\\nHaman a nickum 5 and so furth,\\nD", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0037.jp2"}, "38": {"fulltext": "1 canna *gree wi Tor 5 nor Whig\\nNor mean to saunts to pray or prig\\nNor Knipper-Dol can I confide in\\nNor Quaker, nor auld Jock o Ley den\\nNor mony mair, which 1 might name,\\nO modern branches sprung at hame,\\nReligion s bane, an Scotland s shame*\\nI neutral rank, an* think wi scope,\\nRiskin my saul weel clad wi houp,\\nWishin ilk thrawart gab war steekit,\\nAn deils a i their gra\\\\e-claise streekit\\nThinkin twou d end the disputation.\\nAn gie the black-coats tongues cessation.\\nLajlly^ my frien without effusion,\\nFse draw my sermon to conclusion,\\nOwre muckle gab s down-right intrusion.\\nI watna gin a chiel might see ye,\\nAn quaff a nappy bicker wi ye.\\nFor tho fell drift skifts owre the knap,\\nYet we re a trig in winter hap.\\nWhatrecks, gin I might rax my spaul,\\nAn spang the braes in spight o caul\\nNe er thinkin t ony jag or pingle,\\nTill I was clankit at your ingle\\nWhare heady slock s, an glorious fend in,\\nPeace, mirth* an pleasure never endin,\\nAnd routh o a thing, bickers bendin.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0038.jp2"}, "39": {"fulltext": "2 7\\nTell Meg, your neebor joe fernyear,\\nI wish her weel, lang hale an fier\\nMy blessin gie to Jonny A t\\nLikewise to Rob an Onzie B t\\nWi them my friendship s fairly knitit\\nNor time nor death can ever flit it.\\nHappy to meet whan we forgather\\nThe Lord be wi 5 you a thegithen\\nStrichiti, Dec. 4. 1802.\\nPOSTSCRIPT.\\nWhan I was young, and *gan to spel?,\\nOr listen to an ev nin tale,\\nFrae Grannie s mirky store\\nE en than I ssay d to court the muse 1\\nOn Pegasus to take a cruise,\\nAn thought t exert in lore.\\nWhere burnies sweet meander fang*\\nI d pleasing eye ilk flow r er\\nOr steal me frae the tiny thrang,\\nTo Philomela s bower.\\nApollo to follow,\\nWas ay my artless care\\nTo the muse that doth infuse^\\nI pray d for nature bare.\\nDa", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0039.jp2"}, "40": {"fulltext": "28\\nII.\\nNiest, whan I counted as a man,\\nAt least for size an* art o han\\nTo wield the derf fore-hammer,\\nNae doubt owre blyth I took the glass*\\nAn aften jokit wi my lass,\\nAneath pale Luna s glimmer.\\nYet wallyfa the canty quean\\nAn* wae befa the cappie\\nThe tane s the pleasure o the nine,\\nThe tither maks us happy.\\nI m wearie, I m drearie,\\nWhan twin t o that gay pair\\nI like ay to fike ay,\\nWi them, be t late or air.\\nIII.\\nSome sages douce, to mar our joy,\\nMaintain that ev ry blink s a toy,\\nIn this imperfect state\\nI grant them that, but farther on,\\nAre we to scorn the mighty One,\\nBy grudging at our fate\\nNo rather let s ilk daintie sip,\\nWhile life is in its prime\\nAn* ev ry adverse bliffert hip,\\nWi* raptufd thought, no crime*", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0040.jp2"}, "41": {"fulltext": "C 29\\nDisdaining, refraining,\\nTo joy on others harm\\nRejoicing, disguising,\\nWhat wou d our peace disarm*\\nTo the MOUNTAN-DAISIE in Autumn,\\nSweet gem thy lovely garb decays\\nNo wanton zephyr round thee plays,\\nTo court thy wonted smile\\nBut thankless man, an reptile wild,\\nRegardless view gay summer s childj\\nSoul of the verdant soil.\\nThe careless lark, regardless too,\\nThat ance amang the balmy dew\\nHarmonious numbers sang\\nBending thee mang the dewy weet\\nSoars far abeen, wi* pinions fleet,\\nWarding the stormy bang.\\nBut thou, sweet flower, decayin crafh r,\\nHard bleachin wi the roarin blast,\\nMaun bear the peltin storm\\nShedding thy dying honours round,\\nDull nodding to the chilly ground^\\nA dreary lifeless form.\\nBums,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0041.jp2"}, "42": {"fulltext": "(30\\nFell blew the bitter op ning spring,\\nYet cantily thou spread st thy wing,\\nAbeen thy parent clod\\nNor like the garden-tented flowers,\\nRequiring artfu (hading bowers,\\nTc bield or mak thee snod.\\nOn mountain s brow, or foggy den,\\nOr wild untrodden pathless plain,\\nThou srnirk st aneath the bay\\nExulting in thy virgin hue,\\nThou glint st wi modest chearin shew,\\nKeen glancin in the ray.\\nSo have we known a genius swell,\\nIn some obscure sequester d vale,\\nIn all the soul of song\\nInvok d by hope and nature s fire,\\nAnd yet by bleak misfortune s ire,\\nUnknown he hail d the throng.\\nBut why should I, in pensive strain,\\nGang heavily out o er the plain,\\nAn sing in dowie care\\nTho hoary winter s mere less rage\\nThe helpless daisie cannot wage,\\nIt fa s to rise more fair\\nSic be my fate, whan drearie age,\\nDerf winter s scene, a wearie stage*\\nInvested, chills my blood", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0042.jp2"}, "43": {"fulltext": "3i\\nMay I, like thee, sweet fiow ret, falj,\\nThen rise obedient at the call,\\nTo pleasure s lasting ilood.\\nEPISTLE TO A FRIEND.\\nI.\\nW^hile pinks an daisies deck the mead.\\nAn Nature, in her mirky dead,\\nMaks canty a the plains\\nWhile wanton lambkins wildly prance,\\nAn shepherd swains gambol and dance,\\nChanting their hamely strains j\\nI shed myseP frae scorching sun,\\nTo spin a verse o metre\\nWhiles in anger, whiles in fun,\\nA fickle, gy*pit creature\\nWhiles wanton, an rantin,\\nWi pleasure that s nae srna%\\nWhiles wearie, an drearie,\\nI strive gainst poortkh s blaw*\\nII.\\nI marvel muckle fou that I,\\nSae joggl t wi adversity,\\nShou d e er attempt to sing", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0043.jp2"}, "44": {"fulltext": "32\\nSae junnied on frae day to day,\\nWi ne er a blink o fortune s ray,\\nTo gar the muse tak wing j\\nOr o the sweetest flow ry glen\\nI shou d tak ought delight,\\nWhan ilka day is care or pain,\\nAn wearie is the night\\nBut nature, thy feature,\\nAn mien o various kythe\\nTho dour-like, or sour-like,\\nYe mak me knief an blythe.\\nIII.\\nAince by a trodlin burnie s side,\\nWhare crystal waters smoothly glide,\\nI musing sat a while\\nAn hearin a the birdie s sing,\\nSome on spray, an some on wing,\\nThe ling ring hours beguile\\nMethought I saw my former life\\nLaid open to my view,\\nWhare various sweets an sours were rife,\\nAn follies no a few.\\nYet lastly, that fastly\\nWhich closes human toil,\\nThat surely, that hourly,\\nGies me some cause to smile.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0044.jp2"}, "45": {"fulltext": "33\\nIV.\\nFull drearie dim I saw again,\\nThe door of death, the bleak domain,\\nThe winter o my span\\nCrouchin, hirplin, twin t o bield,\\nWan wi sorrow, craiz d wi eild,\\nFulfilling nature s plan\\nBut yet I saw the guiltless mind\\nGade easy unoppress d\\nWhen something whiskit i the wind*\\nThe guilty s ne er at rest.\\nIt pleas d me, it eas d me,\\nTo see the blessed way,\\nThat led me, that gae d me,\\nThe never-failing way.\\nV.\\nIt s now the twa-an-twentied spring,\\nThat I ve o life had tak o string,\\nWhich near concludes the morn\\nThen noon come on wi decent fouth,\\nTill sax-an -fourty then the routh\\nO pleasure taks the turn.\\nFu blythe wi uppence i my purse^\\nI ll soufFit ilk day louder 5\\nE", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0045.jp2"}, "46": {"fulltext": "34\\nAn whan it s teem, we se canny turse\\nWi pock out owre our fhcu der.\\nAn* happy, wi my cappy,\\nAside some social fire,\\nGalantin, an rantin,\\nTJ1 join the raggit quire*\\nVI.\\nBut Sandy, lad, cou d you an I,\\nThe powers o vanity defy,\\nAn keep by wisdom s rules,\\nShou d Poverty wi raggit pow,\\ntrig by your ingle cheek for chow,\\nYet we cou d jeer at fools.\\nYe Powers who grant a humble wish^\\nTo me but lend an ear\\nMay we the peace of love embrace*\\nAn trace her steps sincere.\\nWi bliss then, we d kiss then,\\nThe ling rin hours away,\\nAt even, nor grievin,\\nWe d close the langsome jday\\\\\\nVII.\\nHad I the power to change my state,\\nWou d I wi fortune fix my fate,\\nAn heap up sordid gain", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0046.jp2"}, "47": {"fulltext": "C 35\\nNo jocund friendship s social charms,\\nCan chase the ling rin hour s alarms,\\nMore than the regal train.\\nThe limpid stream, and crystal tide,\\nThat wimple thro the glens\\nThe canty notes, that smoothly glide\\nThro rosy velvet dens,\\nMair pleasing are, mair easing are.,\\nThan grandeur s transient gleam,\\nMair friendly are, mair kindly are^\\nThan pomp s exulting dream.\\nVIII.\\nIt s, nae doubt, hard to sit like sunks^\\nWhile ither snottie lousie blunks\\nAre fending gay an snug\\nYet be content, my canty chap,\\nAn tak yir share o granted hap\\nAn fear na Fortune s tug.\\nAn honest heart an conscience leal\\nWill langer ftan the test,\\nThan ony peevish near-gaun teal\\nWi 2t his girnel s grist.\\nIt s pleasin, it s easin,\\nWhan social brithers meet f\\nWi dour fock, an sour fock*\\nI never cou d agree t.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0047.jp2"}, "48": {"fulltext": "36\\nIX.\\nOh what avails the wardly pelf,\\nTo ane that never kent himself,\\nNor tender pity shows\\nWhose flinty heart no feelings share.\\nNor liftens to the needy s pray r.\\nBut smiles at human woes.\\nHis shining idols, banefu trash\\nKeep still his sense awake j\\nThey re all his god 5 they re all his wish f\\nNor can his soul partake\\nStill carin an fearin,\\nLest fortune prove unkind j\\nStill grudgin, or drudgin,\\nHe wavers as the windo\\nThen since contentment brings relief,\\nLilt s banish hence baith care an grief,\\nOur tack s but short at maist j\\nLat s jeuk aneath misfortune s blast,\\nAn chearfully forget the past,\\nWhile houp points out the rest 5\\nThen owre the rugged scene o life,\\nWi tentie heed we ll tread,\\nTill Time the fatal scissars give,\\nAn Fate severe the thread.,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0048.jp2"}, "49": {"fulltext": "37\\nNae care then, nae fear then,\\nCheer d by some purer ray,\\nFull blest there, we ll rest there,\\nNo more revolving day.\\nStricheriy March 1803.\\nTO MT AULD HAT,\\nA routh, hattie, ye may gtng yir wa^\\nTho aince as black as onie craw,\\nWyte weel I dinna like to blaw,\\nYet I may say,\\nYe wis a cap-stane weel worth twa,\\nAince on a day,\\nYon Sabbath mornin, weel ye min\\nIt s nae sae very lang sinsyne,\\nTath I gaed shankin aft to shine,\\nAl kirk o Deer\\nThan I had you fu weel in twine,\\nWi costly gear,\\nA buckle o the gowden sheen,\\nA silken ribban, ding cou d nane\\nA string, its maik was never seen 5\\nSax times about\\nDeer, (Old) a parish in Aberdeenshire,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0049.jp2"}, "50": {"fulltext": "4\\nfou yc glanc d in Jennie s een,\\nAn heart, nae doubt\\nWhan drift out owre the hillocks blew,\\nOr roads wis dauk, wi blinnin stew,\\nI cockit you upo my brow,\\nAn spankit aff 9\\nThinkin that tween me an you,\\nI wis na draff.\\nGin onie chiel had coolie scaw f,\\nSic s groogl t crown, or raggit waut,\\nWad we na jeer t (in trouth nae faut\\nAt ilka flaw\\nAn ready whyles wad been to blaw t\\nWi puffawa\\nThe butter flee, in simmer- bra ws,\\nUnthinkin, skims the suckl t wa s,\\nTill Boreas girns, an roun her blaws,\\nBaith hail an rain,\\nThen she, like you, prophetic shaws,\\nThe warld s vain,\\nSae chap ye yont, ye filthy dud,\\nAn crib some docker s chuckie brood,\\nFor if paveein I might scud,\\nMang Jemmie s sprush,\\nReally they d think, I was a bud\\nFrae senseless drush.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0050.jp2"}, "51": {"fulltext": "39\\nHow sweet the hours o youth s gay scene I\\nWe frisk awa in sportive teen\\nYet fast comes on the dowie e en,\\nAn sways the scale.\\nThen aft in grief, an care, an spleen,\\nWe end the tale*\\nADDRESS TO SAUTIE*.\\nHail Buchan s boast thou great Sautward\\nI hail thee as our steady guard I\\nI hail thee wight, not as a bard\\nO kittle verse\\nBut as a feckless punny shard,\\nLow on my a\u00e2\u0080\u0094,\\nWight o the north diviner great\\nBut leeshins me w? pow elate.\\nTo sing o thy hell-grammar d pate,\\nAn wizard prief^\\nThat unto thee our wardie blate,\\nMay spread its leef.\\nA pretended Necromancer, on the east coast of\\nBuchan, who, for a series of years, has, by his artifice,\\nimposed upon the most ignorant of the peasantry in that\\ncorner.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0051.jp2"}, "52": {"fulltext": "40\\nSure few s but heard o thy great name,\\nYour firm resolves, your deep-laid scheme,\\nThat owre Strathbeg ye wisna lame,\\nBut teuk the flight\\nEv n that may fpread to yirds thy fame,\\nThat s dauk as night-\\nWar t na for thee, our sense, tho clear,\\nWad scrimply tent whilk way to steer\\nBut blest wi thee, we banish fear,\\nAn dare ilk fae;\\nCome nicks or hags, in front or rear,\\nBe thou our stay.\\nWee fairies, warlocks, witches, deils,\\nBrownie-knaps, or bogle-squeels,\\nOr spunkies, bleezin throw the peels,\\nIn lightless night\\nThou can divine their nick-bred wheels\\nAs dear s day-light.\\nHobgoblins fudd rin thro the air,\\nClip kelpies i their moss-pot chair,\\nAn water-wraiths at in tack drear,\\nWi eerie yamour\\nThou kens wi thy great gift o lear,\\nTheir nightly clamour.\\nA loch near his residence, which superstition mai\\ntains he flew over.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0052.jp2"}, "53": {"fulltext": "4i\\nThae phantoms, imps, an* specters wiT,\\nThat pest our ha s wi frightfu squile,\\nAn a that skims the bruntlin soil,\\nO brunt breem-sticks\\nThou see sj an hear st their unkent style,\\nAn 5 waukrife tricks.\\nHow aft i yon black vout, wi scouts\\nDescry ye a their ins an outs\\nD ye mind yon night ye measured snouts\\nWi Nick himseF\\nYet cheeckie slink t auld sittie Cloots\\nWi* quick leg-bail.\\nThey tell that s deep in witchcraft lear,\\nAn kens a maukin hag by hare,\\nThat aft they spy you i the air\\nIn shape o reuk\\nOn yird a man j on ocean bare,\\nA cod or fieuk.\\nOn that great night o Halloween,\\nWhan reed-cap t faries rant the green 3\\nAft on the win ye re towrin seen,\\nWi pinions steady\\nThat eerie wights for to befriend\\nYe may be ready.\\nWar t na for thee, great wizard sage\\nThat s clad i this fear-nothing badge*\\nF", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0053.jp2"}, "54": {"fulltext": "4*\\nAn wi this darin fien s engage,\\nWi awfu binner\\nAn a* their threatening cants presage,\\nIn won rous manner.\\nOur kye wad grow as yell s the bull\\nFor maukins wad their milkness cull\\nOur craps wad scouder on the kiP,\\nAs black s the creuk\\nAn meal an maut flee i the mill,\\nFrae neuk to neuk.\\nOur pleughs wad scarcely tak the yird 5\\nNor nowte upo y the pasture herd\\nOur gray beard pigs wi dreadfu dird.\\nIn fiinners fung,\\nAn lums in wiers to get a dird,\\nOr downward flung^\\nEv n whan a pair o J lovin fock\\nTaks on auld Hymen s haly yoke y\\nMay ye be there, a steady rock,\\nOr trouth I hix y\\nIlk body true, may hintin mock\\nThe fumlin pair*\\nSae fare ye weel, auld Sautie, man\\nI m sma behauden to your cann,\\nTho now ye eidcnt seethe the pan\\nO Magic bree,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0054.jp2"}, "55": {"fulltext": "43\\nYet ken auld Bob at end o span\\nS the first ye ll see.\\nJOCK DOIVNIE S LOST.\\nLiAT intimation now be given,\\nTo a the waiT, dead an livin,\\nOwre crookit knowes an meadows even,\\nFrae coast to coast,\\nThro mazy woods that owlet s rave in,\\nJock Downie s lost.\\nIs there a creek about the shore,\\nOr jeukin creuk about yir door,\\nOr ony secret hole or bore,\\nThat can be gloss t,\\nGuide bless ye a sic parts explore,\\nFor Downie lost.\\nMark weel 1 he is a nimble bit\\nBaith keen x sight, an quick o fit\\nAn faith he has a fouth o wit,\\nW little beast f\\nWhich gars us dree an unca skit\\nO downie lost.\\nO mourn ye bards wi 1 dowie weed,\\nFrae John o Groat s to brig o s Tweed I\\nFa", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0055.jp2"}, "56": {"fulltext": "44\\nftae.vile bombastics paint my leed,\\nBut derfly toss t,\\nI habber wiF wi doggrel screed,\\nFor Downie lost.\\nYe tunefu birds that hail the morn\\nYe patricks sfcreekin throw the corn\\nYe yelpin herds wi aucht hours horn,\\nWakin the ghost,\\nShaw ilka yird that ye re forlorn\\nFor Downie lost\\nYe croopin corbies, black as soot,\\nHair frae the aik a dinsome rout j\\nYe robins hintin teet about,\\nFendin the frost\\nTell ilka ha that fends yir snout,\\nJock Downie s lost.\\nBlack be his fa wha had the blame,\\nO* dingin him to plackless shame\\nWhase social heart wis bent on fame,\\nYet aft wis cross* t\\nO Fortune was a bunglin dame,\\nTo Downie lost,\\nBuchan ye flinty-heartit howe\\n7a 9 monie a pridefu* slieth ye stowe,\\nHe left the place under certain pecuniary burdens\\nowing, I believe, to him being a votary of the Nine\\nwhose amours are seldom advantageous.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0056.jp2"}, "57": {"fulltext": "45\\nWha on life s dainties nicely chow,\\nWi endless gust,\\nYet left yir bard wi fient a fiowe\\nAn now he s lost.\\nYe trash o men ye human dross I\\nThat thro the. war! dourly scss,\\nYir hearts are steel, yir sculls are boss,\\nOr buff at most\\nWad ye compare a hunner gross\\nTo Downie lost\\nTHE MUSE AND POET.\\nA DIALOGUE.\\nPoet and rich! tis solecism extreme\\nTisheighten d contradiction? Shenston?.\\nXwas in a lanely auld thack d cot 5\\nIntull a moorlan glen\\nWhare Fate had thrown a poet s lot.\\nTo live wi scrimpit fen\\nSome musty books lay mang the reek,\\nIn tatterwallops torn\\nWhare rattans frae the sods wad squeak,\\nAfraid tq see the morn.\\nA turff lay beekirvyont the bink.\\nTo toast his frosty taes", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0057.jp2"}, "58": {"fulltext": "46\\nA caller burnie was his drink,\\nThat howder t down the braes\\nWi crunkl t brow, he aft wad think\\nUpo his barkin faes\\nAt ither times he d gie a blink,\\nAn 7 houp for better days.\\nIn this dauk clime, the meagre sot,\\nThan laugh, wad aftner grane,\\nHis coffer ne er retain d a groat,\\nThat he cou d ca his ain\\nThalia, a muse o meikle note,\\nSat like a tapit hen\\nThen ssay d to change his russet coat\\nBy chearin o 9 his brain.\\nMUSE.\\nLilt up yir springs, ye dowie fliep,\\nNor hing about the ingle\\nOr tak the inn w? tipplers deep,\\nWhare caps an* trunchers jingle\\nI like fell ill to see ye sleep,\\nOr blaw yir chanter single,\\nI ay wis ca d a canty riep,\\nSae sever had a pingle.\\nPOET,\\nSteek In your gab, ye coaxin jade,\\nI wm I d never seen ye", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0058.jp2"}, "59": {"fulltext": "47\\nIts like to gar me rin reed-mad,\\nSae monie a hour s I ve gien ye\\nMy hips are peekl d wi censure scadd\\nSae to the grun I ll preen ye\\nMy thought s upo. the ploughman s gaud,\\nAn then I ll ride abeen ye.\\nMUSE.\\nNe er fear the critic s scornin chat\\nOr back-nip bunglin blather,\\nHe s bit a glomin flichteriff gnat.\\nCan bang nor win nor wather*\\nFor tho yir fen will never bat,\\nBe thankfu wi hale leather\\nSome day my wit ll coff y a hat,\\nAn busk it wi a feather,\\nPOET.\\nOch on yir wit s a tott rin post\\nA rash amang the water\\nNow douff wi poverty Fm lost,\\nThen tippence gars me clatter\\nNow proud o high Parnassus toss t g\\nOn fleet Pegas I spatter\\nAnon, among the dirt expos t,\\nTo ilka auld wife s clatter.\\nO happy is that douce-gaun wight,\\nWhase sayl ne er mints a swervis*", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0059.jp2"}, "60": {"fulltext": "f 4\u00c2\u00a7 1\\nBut glowrs wee! pleasM at s cutchack s light,\\nHas sense his ev ra nerve in.\\nThe glornin o his life s full bright,\\nNae trivial fame deservin\\nHe s blest, while I maun spen the night,\\nWi care an hunger starvin.\\nMUSE.\\nHoup for the best, an* pump yir brain,\\nTill Patrons upwards heeze ye 5\\nSyne ye may bark at a the tram\\nQ* critics that abeeze ye\\nSiugin upo the verdant plain,\\nTill shepherd- callants reeze ye,\\nYe il bing up siller o yir ain,\\nFor iient ane can refeeze ye.\\nCompar d to you, what s peevish trag,\\nOr beaus wi cleadfu triggin\\nCompar d to you, e en kings are lag,\\nOr lairds wi coochie biggin;\\nYir sangs en after days will wag,\\nFan i the grave ye re Hggin 5\\nAn brethren o the Nine will brag.\\nAn rant upo yir riggin.\\nPOET.\\nHale be yir heart, my cantie quean,\\nYc ve set my saul a-Iowan", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0060.jp2"}, "61": {"fulltext": "49\\nFu cheerie aft wi you I ve been,\\nAmang the yallow gowan.\\nBevvitchin is your tale, I ween,\\nWhich sets my e e-ba s rowan\\nO Helicon I ll swig bedeen,\\nAs lang s the burnie s flowan.\\nOn yon broom-brae aneath the birk,\\nWhare first I gan to woo ye,\\nE en till the glomin glimmert mirk,\\nI to my oxter drew ye\\nInspire me then, an 5 ilka lirk\\nO Nature s visage shew me,\\nThat I may bang ilk critic s jerk,\\nWhase snarlin spite wad mou me*\\nTHE CADGERS MARES.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A Tale.\\nTo a Young Friend, a Particular Acquaintance ff\\nthe Author.\\nSegin betimes, my juv nile friend,\\nT encourage cautiousness of mind,\\nAn banish pleasure that doth flow\\nFrom self-debase or ithers woe,\\nWhich soon or late doth never fail\\nTo gi e dire mis ry scoup to wail.\\nTho fortune, wi a smiling mien,\\nHath plac d ye yond bleak poortith s pain I\\nG", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0061.jp2"}, "62": {"fulltext": "C 50\\nYet recollect, dear Sir, that Fat^\\nPossessed is wi a fickle pate\\nAn aften, whan our houps rin high,\\nAdversity will change the gap\\nThe man to poverty that s born,\\nMay smile at Fame s obstrep rous horn 9\\nAn cannie may he ward the care,\\nWhich might disturb his lowly sphere,\\nWi blythe content, whase chearfu smiles\\nThe backward ling rin hour beguiles\\nAn tho adversity shou d lour,\\nThe fa is easy, cause he s poor.\\nThe rich, the contrair, may succeed,\\nAn rise to fame wi tentless heed\\nOr cunning wiles an sleekit stealth,\\nOr yet by pawnin o their wealth,\\nDear-bought, the loss content an health.\\nBe Grandeur shifted o its soil,\\nAn plac d wi Poverty a while,\\nThen gloomy thoughts infest the mind,\\nAn ilka hour blaws adverse wind-,\\nSpleen, grudge, an hatred, restless care\\nO ev ry sour o life they share\\nAnd aft in frenzy dire they sink,\\nAn gie each gangrene care the blink.\\nSae wi twa lines o fabled graith,\\nPse gie ye n emblem o them baith^", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0062.jp2"}, "63": {"fulltext": "5i\\nNot that ye shou d heap riches by,\\nBut ward the skaith of penury.\\nTwas i the month o bleak December,\\nAe caller night, I weel remember,\\nThe sun wis scantly beetle-height,\\nAn snaw-flaighs teuk their hameward flight;\\nJohn Frost began his nippin nick-nacks,\\nAn play d his treaks upo the winnacks\\nNature wis streekit on her back,\\nW? a her childe^ near at vrack,\\nPeghin as it had been her last,\\nTeghing wi the rampin blast.\\nTwas at this time, in coothie Buchan,\\nWhare better fendin is than brochan,\\nTwa cadger-chaps war hameward plyin 5\\nWi skate an haddocks baith up-cryin,\\nTill sair forfbughen, warsh an wearie,\\nTo Gibbie s^ door each ty d his meerie^\\nAn cause the night wis caul an blae,\\nThey ca d for hame-b rowst usquebae\\nThere sat them down, an teuk their clatter.\\nAn teem d the whisky owre like water,\\nNe er thinkin o their twa aul nags,\\nWi fell tir d shanks an right teem bags*\\nWhiles stannin i the lythe o ither,\\nWhiles jeukin to defend the wather.\\nG 2\\nA famous innkeeper", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0063.jp2"}, "64": {"fulltext": "C 52\\nThe tane wis quiet, never grumml t,\\nTho lankness through her painches rumml t;\\nThe tither wis a pridefu yade,\\nA grumphin, girnin, snarlin jade,\\nWha had been braw in life s gay mornin i\\nSic usage pat her heart a-burnin j\\nAft fidgin wi a dour-like grane,\\nGlumpin wi a sour disdain,\\nTill at a stand what way to turn,\\nShe wi a youl began to mourn\\nWhan I think o the days that s past,\\nIt gars me wish the dreary last\\nDrumly to bang the frosty win s,\\nYarkin sair thir crazy banes.\\nDo ye na grummle, neibour Meg\\nCare ye na for the blast a feg\\nThis dreadfu night an lang stan here,\\nIs mair than ony beast can bear\\n111 guidin sure maks wather caul,\\nAn hungry kytes mak beasts leuk aul*\\nOh did I think the day wad come,\\nThat I shou d bear a cadger scum,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nMe that has sic a boast o blood,\\nAnd roun the course had wofit to scud\\nFor plate, an purse, o glancin hue,\\nWhich aft I ve made my master s due\\nThat plac d me sae abeen the rest,\\nThat I hae been m 9 lords carest j", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0064.jp2"}, "65": {"fulltext": "53\\nBehaud mc now, tho ance a lacker,\\nA stinkin cadger s worn-out packer\\nBehaud me boun fast wi a helter,\\nMy master drinkin helter-ske-Iter,\\nAn my aul hurdles currock cross t,\\nTo win and wather baith expos t,\\nWhich saurs right ill wi me, wha aince\\nWis thought to hae baith wit an mense.\\nO Death thou friend to beast an body,\\nThat aft to lift the lade is ready,\\nYir dart I d think it smooth as butter.\\nTo fling me in some stinkin gutter,\\nOr yet to pluck me a in pieces,\\nAn tan my hyde for diff rent eeses\\nSyne seethe me in a boilin caudron,\\nThat tykes mith gnash me like a baudron.\\nAn end like this wad be mair pleasin,\\nAn to my wither t shaums mair easiiu\\nThan tytin on frae e en to morn,\\nA stranger to baith hay an corn\\nAn syne to be (it gars me weep)\\nSo subject to a cadgers wheep.\\nI ve boast o blood, an shou d be treated,\\nAn no like scum o cattle hated.?\\nSo en t the yade, an wi a grane,\\nHeld down her head, an sheuk her mane.\\nWhile Blythe her neibour gan to crack\\nWi sense, altho a cadger s halk", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0065.jp2"}, "66": {"fulltext": "54\\nNow, troth, it gars me gauf an nicker,\\nAn* rant an 5 fling to see ye sicker j\\nFve heard my gutcher aften mutter,\\nThat pride wad some day dight the gutter\\nNow ye right direfu to yir Cost,\\nHae been in pleasure fairly lost\\nAn* wi caul pride, that banefu guest,\\nYe ve for behind left prudence plac t\\nIf ye had ne er embraced the bridle,\\nNor rantit mony a lang day idle,\\nAt waddins, fairs, an cursed races,\\nYe ne er had grain t, tho ill yir case is.\\nSee me aneath the rairin blast,\\nAs weel as you, an tied as fast\\nYet i my face there is contentment,\\nFar hence is care, or caul resentment.\\nTo rustic labour I was bred up,\\nAn ne er to idle seat was fed up\\nBut a my days at pleugh an cart,\\nOr harrow s drudge, I ve play d my part\\nI ne er was great, sae ne er was proud,\\nNae sumptuous fend, but hamely food,\\nI teuk wi pleasure what was sent me,\\nSae naething then cou d discontent me\\nNow, whan I get a mamen s leisure,\\nI can glowre back on youth wi pleasures\\nAn bless that day, till time extoll t,\\npaat I to poverty was foal t.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0066.jp2"}, "67": {"fulltext": "55\\nMy blessing on the cantie Cottar,\\nFor many a time, wi hyte an hotter,\\nHe s hail d me in a simmer mornin,\\nWi muttie cog, an 5 puckcle corn in\\nThen whislin owre the benty lay,\\nHe s cheer d me a the lee-lang day.\\nYir master cadger, gang an ask ica,\\nGif ever ebbin Fate did task im.\\nGin mole-blin Fortune ever steers im.\\nOr black Adversity e er fears im 5\\nOr gin his mind s a sot to riches\\nOr flinty Care his snout e er twitches\\nYe ll find, if ye yir lug incline,\\nHis sentiments co-joint wi mine*\\nCan chance-bred Fortune s slidd ry ba r 5\\nOr back-gawn Fate gie him a fa\\nCan sour Adversity e er touch im,\\nSin galling riches canna clutch im I\\nOr Care, wi saul as hard as steel,\\nBit ding a spur into his heel\\nYe see him there enjoy his cap,\\nWi his aul neebor, drouthie chap 3\\nOn feats that s past he ll dwall wi scope^\\nAn forrat leuk wi pleasin hope*\\nPray what is blood, conceited fool\\nOr what is* has been^ Grandeur s scool", "height": "4179", "width": "2308", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0067.jp2"}, "68": {"fulltext": "56\\nI care as little for yir pride,\\nAs currocks dis, that on ye ride\\nAn tho the storm shou d downward blaw ye.\\nNor man nor beast will pity shaw ye\\nThe fate o nature s justly stated,\\nWhan idiots are like idiots treated.\\nA Relation of the Death fJ**** A**** s d*g\\nSPOT? IE wrote andfent to him*\\nAe day, just near the en o winter,\\nWhan the burns cam tum iin down\\nWhan the cattle tiawe,an blinter\\nTo the loch for drink at noon\\nSpottie keen, a neebor s collie,\\nThrough a moss cam rinnin hame,,\\nSkippin lightly on ilk shullie,\\nWyte he hid na scar nir lame.\\nLang he ran, through meers o heather,\\nScornin dykes, an knaps, an stanks,\\nTill birr, a maukin wi a fudder,\\nStartit up wi souple shanks.\\nSpottie, wi his wonted fury,\\nDrew his spauls up for the chace\\nAn in desperation s hurry,\\nPlumpit through a shull o ice,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0068.jp2"}, "69": {"fulltext": "51\\nNow he s left to sprawl an shiver,\\nDeath s gult yawnin at his mou\\nBut in pity to deliver,\\nCam a gaudsman frae the plough;\\nDraws him out wi his lang weapon,\\nWaes my heart, he s owre near death 5\\nSwall t wi waiter, sair he s gapin,\\nGaspin for a puff o breath.\\nSair they leukit on ilk ither,\\nSair the gaudsman hang his head\\nAn like a tender-hearted brither,\\nSaid to Spottie, nearhan dead,\\nu Now, my doggie, since yir gawin\\nDown wi death, nae mair to grieve\\nGin ye ve ony conscience gnawin,\\nTell t afore ye tak yir leave.\\nI hae twa three things to tell ye,\\nFore I gang my hinmost road\\nFew there is like weei fails me,\\nThat ne er fan a ccnscie?ice brod.\\nTell my master J**** A****,\\nHe s an elder o the kirk\\nTell him that ye gat me sprawlin,\\nSaw me gie the hinmost jerk.\\nTell im that I muckle priz t im,\\nThat he was a master guid\\nH", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0069.jp2"}, "70": {"fulltext": "5\u00c2\u00ab 1\\nBut I lang an sair advis t hh\u00c2\u00ab*\\nTo gie owre i!k sinfu deed.\\nNo to pilfer on a Sunday,\\nWhan he has the beggar s cap\\nNo to do as he did yon day,\\nDrink sae muekle o the cap.\\nNo to fike \\\\vi yon wild hizzie,\\nJanet s dochter i the glen\\nNo to job wi s servant Lizzie,\\nIn aul Luckie s bed the ben.\\nNo to cheat whan he gets ha pence,\\nFor the beggars o the Ian\\nFor a saxpence gie them thripence\\nNo to lie, nor curse, nor ban.\\nNo to parsons be a tell-tale,\\nUpon chaps- that s won the .steel j,\\nThise the deil will him to hell trail,\\nA place that sets him unca weel.\\nNae mair he said, but cock t his tail up,\\nStreek t him out, and sheuk his head\\nSyne wi a dolefu grane an wallop^\\nNum er t him amang the dead.", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0070.jp2"}, "71": {"fulltext": "59\\nTo J**\u00c2\u00ab* A****, on hearing that a Girl W\\n*tvith child to him.\\nI.\\nWhan glomin grey cam owre the liff,\\nAn birdies teuk their nest\\nWhan gizzent craigs, an drouthie sauls^\\nGaed whare the ale was best\\nWhan currs began to woufF an bark,\\nAs strangers pass d them by\\nI heard a carlin grain an yelp,\\nAlake, alake, for ay\\nO death come crack my wearie Hfe 5\\nAn lay me neath the sod\\nThis is the warst o a mishaps,\\nTis war than death s fell trod\\nThat blackguard A**** i the glen,\\nMay muckle sorrow fa im\\nHe is the cause o a my wae,\\nThe devil south-cast blaw im.\\nIII.\\nO let his chanter ne er play wheep*\\nSin wi its witching skrieks^", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0071.jp2"}, "72": {"fulltext": "to\\n^It s dung my joints as stiff s a rung*\\nAn wat my wizzent cheeks j,\\nHe s play d my dochter Meg a skyte,\\nWhich weel has coft the gibbet j\\nHiss tak him, Nicjde, ti yir vout\\nBut nae or he be\\nTo death yon day.\\nOn the Rev. Mr B****** y S Alfoluthn from the\\nChurch*\\nhe muse, now in a pensive strain,\\nMaun tine her cants o smirkin fain,\\nAn sing the sorrows o the plain\\nO backgawin sheep\\nScornin to rair wi yellin train,\\nBut dowie weep.\\nHeartless, an baugh B for you,\\nShe eyes a gaunt forsaken crew\\nTho Buchan has haul herds anew\\nTo haud her right\\nFor tentin flocks, there s nane like you\\nHas sic a slight.\\nOh waes my heart to hear them.bleatin 3\\nLimpin dytit like an greetin,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0072.jp2"}, "73": {"fulltext": "6i\\nWi scarce a hap-warm fcnd-caul teat on,\\nBut s torn mV fhiffin\\nWhile ithers hae their sides near spleetin,\\nWi 1 downright laughin.\\nWhan they gang frae the criv at morn,\\nWild-like an wees t, they tin forlorn\\nSome thievish tak their peihour s corn,\\nAn cram their kyte\\nIthers maun thole a shepherd s scorn,\\nAn da ma 1\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nRee teeps that your soun judgement cruhbit.\\nAn for mad frricks hae afien druhbir.\\nTill they repentin wad a sobbit.\\nAn grain t, an sigh t,\\nMay gar some hoggies bleer t an hlubhlt,\\nGae shun the light.\\nO B******, stanch an creadless rock,\\nThat aft hath bang t Tod-Lowrie s shock\\nHow afc we ve seen yir thrivm stock,\\nCome tytin hame\\nAn mintin ilka stap to bock,\\nW i pangit wyme.\\nSweet was the fendin that ye gae them t\\nNae wither t harigal to dry them\\nTo drumly water wad ye cry them\\nO never never I", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0073.jp2"}, "74": {"fulltext": "62\\nTo burn o crystal wad ye hie them,\\nTo synd their liver\\nMy heart is really Ifke to brak,\\nTo see the badge torn frae that back,\\nWha wont, sae rapture-struck, to crack\\nO pastures green j\\nAn scadd the fae, baith blae an* black,\\nAfore our een.\\nOur herds, O v/ae befa them a\\nThat sae bambouzFt you wi gaw\\nWhat tho ae dautit hog or twa\\nYir stamack crav d\\n3 Twas your guid-will, an that was law,\\nBaith seal d an sav d.\\nThen fare ye weel, my cantie chap,\\nMay battin plenty be yir hap,\\nLang, lang to wieP Correction s strap\\nA yon the ocean 5\\nAn wag yir thumb, an shak yir crap,\\nFrae land o Goshen.\\nHe went for the United States of America,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0074.jp2"}, "75": {"fulltext": "*3\\nFA ST REN S E EN*.\\n-Thus they rejoice, nor think,\\nThat with to-morrow s sun. their annual toil\\nBegins again the nerer-ceasing round.\\nThoms s,\\nWhin kail-yards gin to shaw their snout\\nAbeeh the wreathes o snavv\\nAn vernal win s, wi bitter blout,\\nOut owre our chimlas blaw\\nBlythe Fastren s E en near ilka lowe\\nPaps in his gaucy snout,\\nAn helps the rantin race a jowe,\\nWi mony a rair an rowte,\\nAn yelp that night\\nIn Buchan braw, that cantie neuk\u00c2\u00ab\\nWha dings a Scotland s isle,\\nFor coothie callants roun the creuk*\\nAn maidens feat an leal\\nA swargh o gladsome neibour fock,\\nThat glomin did forgather\\nAbout the town, to sport, an joke*\\nAn rant wi ane anither,\\nRight blythe that night,\\nFastren s E en is a night of great festivity in the\\nnorth of Scotland, probably on account of its being the\\nnight preceding the Lenten Fast,", "height": "4179", "width": "2213", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0075.jp2"}, "76": {"fulltext": "64-\\nA 1 buskit trig in brawest dead,\\nThey wont to wear on Sunday,\\nSilk ribbans knit ilk lassie s head,\\nShe gat in Hansel-Monday\\nSprush i their graith, the ploughmen louns\\nTo see their joes fu giggie,\\nCock up their bonnets on their crowns,\\nAn dreel their cares to Wiggie,\\nClean aff that night.\\nNow brofe a lusty bicker fills,\\nTo grace the cotter s beerdf,\\nWeel clad wi fat in greasy bells,\\nTo mak a tasty wierd\\nThe young gudewife plumps in a ring,\\nCries, Lay yir ban s about ye\\nI ken ye re a upo the wing,\\nAn fain for ane to clout ye,\\nFu warm some night.\\nSae on they bang wi cuttle-haste,\\nTo seance their fortune fair\\nThe tailor choakit near amaist,\\nWhich gae them a a scare\\nEccf-brcse corrmcnly begin the feast, into which a\\nritjg is thrown and whoever catches it first, will be de-\\ncidedly in the bands of wedlock before nest Fastren s\\nE en,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0076.jp2"}, "77": {"fulltext": "65\\nDcil tak yir wierds, quo he, an pegh t,\\nWi dunts upo his hurdies;\\nThey redd his wizzen wi a fechc,\\nSae gatna mony wordies\\nFrae him that night,\\nVI.\\nThe aul guidman s right eident now,\\nAt makin o the ba\\nAn o the leys to gar her rowe,\\nThey place them raw an raw\\nThe hails is set, an on they scud,\\nWi peltin youff an yark,\\nTill mony a wight amang the mud,\\nLies peghin in his sark,\\nFu breathless the night.\\nVII.\\nTib Tamson s sin*$ade owre the knowe,\\nWae worth sic dreadfu wark\\nHech, down he fa s like ony yowe,\\nAn raise ken-spreckle mark\\nMy days is done, quo he, an grain r,\\nSae gat anithcr straik\\nI\\nThe foot-ball is greatly in praftice on this night\\nprobably to shew their vigour, or rather an eagerness to\\nprove the contents of the bottle, as there is betts laid,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0077.jp2"}, "78": {"fulltext": "66\\nHe liftit s e en, art s kirnel sain t,\\nHerse as a corn^craik,\\nWi plypes that night*\\nVIII.\\nThe Blacksmith niest, a rampin cheii,\\nCam skelpin thro the breem\\nVow he was black as ony deil,\\nAn in an unca feem\\nThe pridefu Tailor cockit s e e,\\nBan t Brookie as wan wordy\\nYoung Vulcan dang his snout a-jee,\\nWhich gart him tak the sturdie,\\nA skaith that night.\\nIX.\\nThe hails is wun, they warsle hame,\\nThe best they can for fobbin\\nTwa three o them, this waefu game*\\nHas gi en a hearty drubbin.\\nSome mizl t shin fell sair hath bled\\nSome tae s corn weel chapit\\nAn some, that wadna like it said,\\nHath got their noddles knapit,\\nRight sair the night.\\nX.\\nYoung Jeanie to the barn has gane,\\nTho she is unca eerie", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0078.jp2"}, "79": {"fulltext": "67\\nBut she is right new-f angle fain,\\nTo see wha is her dearie\\nShe sleeks the door up to the wa\\nSyne owre her weakest shouder,\\nShe wechts the corn anent the blaw\\nThinkin her joe wad scud her\\nFast by that night.\\nXI.\\nLang winnow t she, an fast, I wyte,\\nAn snodly clean t the stuff,\\nWhan something hin her wi a skyte,\\nGat up, an gied a fuff;\\nShe bang t the wecht wi sic a birr,\\nAn cried, the L d be here\\nAn wha it was that flegit her,\\nShe didna wait to spier\\nAt them that night*\\nXII.\\nThe maiden niest gaed to the kil\\nAn taks the blue clue wi her,\\n12\\nWhen, it she has a fearless heart, and enjoys the\\nprivilege of sight, she indisputably will have the pleasure\\nof beholding her future conjugal yoke-fellow pass through,\\nthe barn.\\nf This is a spell which requires both a stout heart arid", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0079.jp2"}, "80": {"fulltext": "68\\nShe bade ane near the door stan still,\\nOr fate shou d something gie her\\nShe wand the clue wi tentie han\\nAn cries, Wha hauds ths end o t j\\nBut knap it braks, an tho she fan*,\\nShe didna bide to mend it,\\nBut heel t that night\\nXIII.\\nBut wha was there but Sandie Blunt,\\nWi lug as gleg s a wummle j\\nWha lay incogs and gae a grunt,\\nGart her styte barla-fummel\\nI kent, quo she, twas some good gift,\\nTo fleg me was na handie\\nThe callant kent the lassie s drift,\\nSae play d her h e,\\nClean aff that night\\nXIV.\\nJock Din is to the yard right sly,\\nTo saw his wierdin piz\\na steady hand The clue is thrown into the kiln, while\\nshe holds the one end, and begins to wind then cries,\\nM Wha hauds the end o t i. e. who holds the end of it\\nwhen she receiveth for answer the name of her future\\nhusband j but, if none answers, then it is prophetic of\\nher dying a maid.\\nWhich he does in this form One tox each faset-", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0080.jp2"}, "81": {"fulltext": "6 9\\nWhan something twiesh him an the sky,\\nSet up a frightfu gizz\\nAn wha was that but daft Jean Can*,\\nWi twa lang scrogs o wattle\\nShe bom t him wi the same lang spar,\\nHe plumpit i the scuttal,\\nOvvre s lugs that night.\\nXV.\\nHe tew, an peghin stytert hame,\\nWeel soupl t wi the peel\\nOut gat the hav rels wi a scream,\\nS gin they had seen the deil\\nAs to the fire he stottit thro\\nThe gutters clypin frae him\\nAul Luckie sittin near the lowe,\\nA Shirra-meer she gae him\\nRight derf that night\\nXVI.\\nz* Wae wags ye, chiel, whare hae ye been,\\nYe ve gotten sic a drabblin\\nTo gar me rise in sic a itcn f\\nAn pit my tongue a-scabblin\\nheart he may have occafion to have, or has in view, when\\nthe firft briered pea foretells, with undoubted furety, his\\nunavoidable alliance with the girl it reprefent s.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0081.jp2"}, "82": {"fulltext": "70\\nI watna bit IVe gotten a fley,\\nI gatna sic anither,\\nSin Maggie flait the haukit quey,\\nAn reeve her o the tether,\\nYon luckless night\\nXVII.\\nThe spring afore Culloden meer,\\nFresh rins it i my min\\nThae days I was right hale an fier,\\nAneath the linkum twine;\\nA body shewe, that had to saw,\\nFor rigs was braw an dry,\\nAn* we to haud our Fastren s staw,\\nWhare best we thought the gy\\nWad be that night,\\nXVIII.\\nMeg Sowter s sin, a mautent loll,\\n(For sair the wife beam-full t him),\\nTeuk thro the feerd a dytit scull,\\nI kenna what bewrill t him\\nSome spunkies, or some same-like ills s\\nFast after him they leggit j\\nAn monie a day he ran the hills,\\nHe was sae sairly fleggit\\nThat vera night.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0082.jp2"}, "83": {"fulltext": "7i\\nXIX.\\nBut now the eggs come in a dish\\nWeel hoordit by this aught days,\\nQuo Grannie, trouth I wyte they re fresh*\\nAn a this season s laughter s,\\nI ve casen eggs this fourty year,\\nTo mony a lad an lass\\nAn what I said, baith douce an queer,\\nHas ever come to pass,\\nT this vera night.\\nXX.\\nWae worth ye, wabster Tarn, what s this\\nThat I seegaupin gumlie,\\nThe bodom o the glass, alas\\nIs unca blae an drumlie\\nSae may ye skook yir brow an skool,\\nAn flypin hing yir head ay\\nSome waefu quine il ride the stool,\\nFor you, afore the Reeday,\\nI ll swear the night*\\nXXI,\\nO weel s me on you Jeanie Din,\\nBraw lass at thou will be\\nAn egg is broke, and thrown into a glass amongi! s\\nlittle water, for each individual, where the fate of futu-\\nrity is difplayed in a most wonderful manner,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0083.jp2"}, "84": {"fulltext": "72\\nFor ye ll nae mair nir wyve, nir spin P\\nWhan aince you re twenty, three\\nThere s goud in lumps, ye lucky jade,\\nO how it glints an glitters\\nYe ll get a laird o Ian I ll wad, LL\\nIn spite o a their witters,\\nAn craigs yon night.\\nXXII.\\nNow ilka lad an lassie s fate,\\nIs, foul or fair, decided\\nThe hotchie reams, the girdle steams,\\nAn litt lans rin clean doited,\\nYoung primpin Jean, wi cuttie speen,\\nSings dum to bake the bannocks\\nWhile piper Jock, to gar them cock.,\\nGars reesle doors an winnocks*\\nWV dron that night\\nXXIII.\\nAuld daddy hodgin yont the bink,\\nFu blythe to see the sport\\nj- Bannocks made of the eggs, with a little oat-meal\\nand butter and she that undertakes the baking of them\\nmull (however many provocations she may receive) re-\\nmain speechlefs till they are finished then, if flie do fo,\\nshe is looked upon as an apparent to the bands of Hymen\\nftfddenly but if she cannot reft rain her loquacity, she\\nis in danger of bearing the reproach of a by (hot, i. e. a\\nhopeless maid,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0084.jp2"}, "85": {"fulltext": "73\\nCries, Fill the stoup, to gar them jink,\\nAn on the bannocks clort\\nWhan I wis young wi canty crap*\\nThan dwaliin i the Gash,\\nMy reem-ln nap in cog an cap,\\nGaed gilpin roun like wash,\\nOn sic a night.\\nXXIV.\\nHale be yir crowns, my canty louns*\\nTho age now gars me hotter,\\nI m blythe to see a rantin spree,\\nAnd fain wad thro* ye totter\\nBut I m content, to see ye spraint,\\nRight free o dool an care ay j\\nA risin race, I wish ye grace,\\nT* enjoy the sweetest berry,\\nO* yir life the night.\\nXXV.\\nThey clank right chearfu roun the beerd-.\\nFor now its wearin late,\\nThey wyle the bannocks for the wierd,\\nThe pea that grannie set\\nK\\nAs there was a pea dropped amongft part of the\\nbannocks, each receives one, and mull eat it before the\\ncompany and whoever has the good luck of catching it,\\nhas alfo decided their fate fts to the furety of wedlock*", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0085.jp2"}, "86": {"fulltext": "74\\nA tramp their feckfu jirkin fu,\\nTo sleek aneath the bowster\\nSyne blythely part a like to spew,\\nThankin the cannie browster,\\nFor that yon night.\\nSONG.\\nTune. Last time I came oer the Muir*\\nI,\\nV? han ragglish winds blew o er the hill,\\nAn 5 stormy was the weather,\\nEmotions soft my breast did fill,\\nFor Nell amang the heather.\\nI thought upon the artless tales,\\nWhan firft her love allur d me,\\nThe kisses sweet, an* witchin smiles.\\nWhan she of bliss ensur d me*\\nII.\\nBeneath the birk or scented thorn,\\nHow aft Fve hugg d my treasure\\nEv n till the sober night s return,\\nIn love exceeding pleasure j\\nI trae d her steps with looks sincere,\\nTill Phoebus light grew fainter j\\nThe bannocks are equally divided at parting, when\\nthey place part of them beneath the pillow to dream on.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0086.jp2"}, "87": {"fulltext": "75\\nThen struggling fore tween hope an* fear,\\nMy fancy aft wou ci paint her.\\nIII.\\nYe gods what raptures fill my soul j\\nhn yet wi fear I tremble,\\nLest absence an the fates controul\\nShould make my love dissemble.\\nNo hence ye fear-bespeaking thought\\nEach vile idea s slander\\nThat beauty which my fancy bought,\\nBears not a heart to wander.\\nSONG.\\nTune. Humours of Glen.\\nI.\\njS^ear high to;v ring Mormond, adown i the valley,\\nWhare gay glintin daises adorn the plain\\nWhare the lark an the linnet do warble so gaily,\\nAn echo divulges the plaint of ilk swain\\nBy the brink o yon burnie, that sweetly doth measure\\nThe plain to the ocean thro willows so gay\\nMy fancy oft wanders a-seeking my treasure,\\nFor there lives my Jeenie the flower o Lonemay.\\nII.\\nShe s fair as the morning that darts on the mountain,\\nGay as Aurora with lustre so grand,\\nKz", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0087.jp2"}, "88": {"fulltext": "7 5\\nMild as the zephyr, and clear as the fountain,\\nStraight as the pop lar adorning the land.\\nHer cheeks are the crimson, her brows alabaster,\\nHer breath is far sweeter than new^mawn hay\\nShe smird when I spafc, an I said nane surpass d her,\\nAn calPd her my Jeenie, the flower o Lonemay.\\nIII.\\nWhat is riches an* fortune, that we shou d but hanker,\\nOr what is the treasure that India bestows\\nI spurn ev n Empires, an think Kings a canker,\\nTo be whare the gowan in yon valley grows\\nDid I think she but ey d me as innocent fancy\\nDoes tell with delight, that she sings when I play,\\nTd laugh at young Will i the green wood wi* Nancy,\\nAn live i yon cot wi the flower o Lonemay.\\nso N G,\\nTune. Lass of Livingstone*\\nI.\\n^Thare hae ye been, my Nelly, lass,\\nThis morning fair, this morning fair,\\nI lang d to see thy bonnie face,\\nSo sweet an rare, so sweet an rare.\\nThe dew hings sour in drowsie blabs,\\nAn has nae shew, an has nae shew\\nThe lav rocks steek their tunefu gabs\\nWhen twin t o* you, when twin t o you.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0088.jp2"}, "89": {"fulltext": "77\\nII.\\nNow hear the shepherds chearie pipe,\\nIn cantie strain, in cantie strain,\\nCome let us pu the berries ripe,\\nOn yonder plain, on yonder plain,\\nThen dreel your flock out owre the lay,\\nAlang wi mine, alang wi* mine,\\nTis sweet to see the lambkins gay,\\nSae sleek an fine, sae sleek an fine;\\nIII.\\nWhat raptures sweet wad fill my breast,\\nAn daunt my woes, an daunt my woes*\\nIf I cou d on that beauty feast,.\\nWhich you disclose, which you disclose\\nThen be not slack, my dearest maid,\\nTo gie consent, to gie consent,\\nFor youthfu beauty soon must fade 5\\nIt is but lent, it is but lent.\\nIV.\\nWhan spring, the darling o the year,\\nComes chearie in, comes chearie in\\nThen frae yir fang my pipe will lere,\\nA gleesome din, a gleesome din.\\nTil shield ye in my t2rtan plaid,\\nWhan winter comes, whan winter comes j\\nAn* wi my pipes Til make ye glad,\\nWi cantie hums, wi 5 cantie hums,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0089.jp2"}, "90": {"fulltext": "78\\nV.\\nThus will we fleg the lazy hours,\\nAn smile at care, an smile at care\\nBraw to busk, whan winter lours,\\nOr simmer s fair, or simmer s fair.\\nWi love we ll spend the passing year,\\nAmang the bent, amang the bent\\nAn houp for days baith hale and fier,\\nWi blythe content, wi biythe content.\\nSONG.\\nTune.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Wat ye ivha I met yestreen.\\nI.\\n.Ahin yon braes, whare D-veran streams\\nIts beaming flo d adown the vale,\\nThere lives a lass, tis Jcenie Weemyss,\\nThe beauty o sweet Gaskins dale.\\nHer daddy ploughs the ri^ggit clay,\\nHer minnie tents the lowin kye,\\nAn Jeenie s canty, brisk, an gay,\\nAn lo es me, yet she s unco shy.\\nII.\\nI hinna cash that can prevail\\nWi Jonnie Weemyss, her daddy sour j\\nBut I hae flocks the vera wyle,\\nThat owre the hillocks wildly scour", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0090.jp2"}, "91": {"fulltext": "79\\nA dwalling house fu* tosh an snug,\\nO meal a trampit girnal fu\\nA bowie barmin at my lug,\\nO slockin swats, the barley broo.\\nm.\\nA braw peat stack afore the door,\\nWee! clad wi sods an* divets roun\\nAn wha wad hint that I am poor,\\nY/han I m guid man o a the town I\\nMy father wins in Salton s Ian\\nAn he has muckle gowd an gear\\nNow he s an auld, but horieft man,\\nAn I m his heir ye needna spear,\\nIV.\\nThen Jeenie fearna simmer s drouth^\\nNor winter s bitter frosty blaw,\\nFor my ha- house contains a fouth\\nO a that s guid, an warm, an braw\\nAn think na lang my bonnie lass,\\nThe day is no that far awa\\nWhan I ll come loupin o er the grass*\\nAn mak ye mistress o the ha/", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0091.jp2"}, "92": {"fulltext": "8o\\nSONG.\\nTune, Tweedside.\\nI.\\nO saw ye my Jean on yon brae,\\nOr came she by yon water side\\nI ve sought her this lang simmer day,\\nIn ev ry wild bush that wou d hide.\\nBy the banks of the sweet winding Tay\\nOn yon gowan d lawn she was seen r\\nSome shepherd mair lovely than I,\\nHath stole the dear heart of my Jean.\\nII.\\nBe still ye wild warblers at morn,\\nNo choir let be heard in the grove\\nLet the birk be forgot, an the thorn,\\nWhere the chorus was join d by my love.\\nYe shepherds that wantonly stray,\\nO gather my flocks hame at e en\\nThat I mang the wilds may delay,\\nAn mourn the, sad loss of my Jean*\\nSONG.\\nTune.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 i?w/i\u00c2\u00ab Castle.\\nI.\\nIS low loud ye breeze, and roaring storm,\\nBe drearie ev ry woodland charm,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0092.jp2"}, "93": {"fulltext": "81\\nBe hush, the numbers of the day,\\nLet ev ry warbler leave the spray\\nYe riv lets gay, meancTring long,\\nHow oft ye ve heard my careless song 9\\nSucii heart-fek scenes with bursts accrue,\\nWhen tears, exclaiming, bid adieu.\\nII.\\nSweet scenes of youthful pleasures gay\\nSweet scenes of Fancy s magic ray\\nSweet scenes of bliss, alluring charms,\\nWhich now awake my soul s alarms.\\nYe Friends of many a social hour,\\nSince adverse Fate doth threatening lour,\\nWhat heart-felt scenes with bursts accrue,\\nWhen tears, exclaiming, bid adieu\\nIII.\\nFarewell, ye verdant blooming plains\\nFarewell, ye sportive neighb ring swains,\\nWhere I in life s sweet morn of glee,\\nIn harmless pastime ranged free.\\nFarewell, sweat Jean, my prcmls d bliss.\\nThou soul of joy, now grant me this,\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nLet that which binds my heart to you\\nBe lock d for evermore Adieu.\\nL", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0093.jp2"}, "94": {"fulltext": "82\\nSON G,\\nTune, Ettrick Banfo.\\nO KiRstie how sae lang frae me,\\nAn frae rejoicing nature been,\\nWhan ilka shepherd, wild an* free,\\nSkips o er the blythsome gowany green\\nLat s taste the breath o spring sae mild,\\nWhile cauler dew-draps hing sae clear,\\nWhile round their dam ilk lambkin wild\\nGambols to hail the coming year.\\nII.\\nlieadr we our flocks to yonder braes,\\nWhare teeming pleasures meet our een 5,\\nWhare daisies glint in sunny rays,\\nIn favour o my darling Jean\\nWhare bonnie speckl d verdant meads\\nCan cheer the sadden d dowie brow\\nAn lav rocks flutter o er our heads,\\nOr rant amang the balmy dew.\\nIII.\\nThe troddlin burnie i the glen\\nGlides cannie o er its peebles sma\\nWhare saughs an willows gently ben 31\\nAfore the soughin breeze s blaw", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0094.jp2"}, "95": {"fulltext": "8 3\\nThere couM I hug thee to my breast,\\nAn chant my love in artless strain\\nThere guileless on thy beauty feast,\\nNor wish for India s boast of gain.\\nSONG.\\nTune, Rutin Castle.\\nI.\\nJL he soaring lark, at twilight grey,\\nBrings tidings of the dawning day\\nThe chirping linnet and the thrush\\nAwaken morning in the bush 4\\nThe merry shepherd o er the hill,\\nBlythe tunes his pipe with right good will\\nAnd every thing is bless d but me.\\nLone musing on the banks of Dee,\\nII\\nYou little warblers of the spray.\\nYour matin songs a while delay\\nYe shepherds, with your pipe and crook,\\nGo join the murmurs of yon brook 4\\nYour hymning choir it tears my soul,\\nMore piercing than bleak Winter s scoul\\nEliza now proves false to me,\\nAnd leaves the bonnie banks of Dee,\\nLa", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0095.jp2"}, "96": {"fulltext": "84\\nIll-\\nPure stream how gay* ye wind along,\\nOnce pleasing to my careless song\\nNow thy sweet banks, in beauty drest,\\nBring sorrow to my youthful breast.\\nSee how thy silver nations play\\nTheir brilliant splendour dart the sky\\nMong pebbled streams, in sportive glee,\\nThey frisk adown the banks of Dee.\\nIV.\\nIn yonder grove, where violets bloom,\\nAnd woodbines spread a sweet perfume,\\nMy reed shall tune the pensive lay,\\nAnd join the turtle all the day.\\nMy careless crook, my hopeless plaid*\\nMy dog that wildly reams afraid,\\nI now bequeath to shepherds free,\\nThat stray along the banks of Dee,\\nSONG.\\nTune.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 She rose atf loot me in.\\nI.\\nO wat ye wha s in yon wee howe,\\nAneath blythe Mormond s braes\\nYoung Nelly, whare the hawthorns grow,\\nSin 25 bleachin at her claes*", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0096.jp2"}, "97": {"fulltext": "85\\nAn Nelly is a bonnie lass,\\nThe flow r amang them a\\nWhan trippin owre the gowany grass,\\nShe staw my heart awa\\nII.\\nMy Nelly dear, come owre the knowe,\\nWi pearlins buskit braw,\\nAn Til convoy ye thro the howe.\\nAs fat s yir daddy s ha\\nAn shou d yir minny you misca\\nBecause ye was wi me,\\nMy dear, I ll tak ye frae them z\\\\\\nAn lo e ve till I die.\\n4\\nIII.\\nThe wanton Iouns in Crimond slacks,\\nGang trig to kirk an fair,\\nAn woo her love wi a their knacks,\\nBut she has nane to spare\\nFor she lo es me, an I Ij e her,\\nAn wha dare say it na\\nJVIe a her houp, she a my care,\\nIn contars o them a\\nIV.\\nO a the nights that e er I spent,\\nThis towmond sax an twa,\\nThe tither night amang the bent,\\nI m sure was worth them a", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0097.jp2"}, "98": {"fulltext": "C 86\\nCome poortith dire, come fortune fair.\\nCome winter s frost an snaw,\\nMy heart will ay be free o care,\\nTho Nelly be my a\\\\\\nMy lovin lass, ne er fash your head,\\nTho ye ha e little gsar,\\nFor tocher rare I never greed,\\nMy ain s but sma I fear\\nJin health attend, an ban s keep hale,\\nFlee thought an care awa,\\nI ll win our bread, wi little toil,\\nNor cease to love ava.\\nSONG.\\nO er heath-clad moors and desart wilds,\\nYoung Annie trips right free\\nAdmiring Nature s rugged ssenes,\\nShe treads the lonesome lea\\nThe waving willows and the birks,\\nWhich Nature wildly strews j\\nShe eyes with sweet bewitching mien,\\nBlythe hears the whistling ploughs.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0098.jp2"}, "99": {"fulltext": "8 7\\nII.\\nOn mjrtle groves of foreign lands*\\nShe thinks with proud disdain\\nTho* purer skies, and warmer suns,\\nExalt the flow ry plain.\\nThe burnie todlin down ilk glen,\\nO er Caledonia s land,\\nHer wildly- scat ter d fir-crown d hills,\\nYoung Annie s thoughts demand.\\nIII.\\nO gay are Scotia s hills an dales\\nHer glens an gowan d plains,\\nWhare gleesome swains in concert tend\\nTheir flocks in gladsome trains.\\nGou d I young Annie s favour win,\\nYe monarchs boast in vain\\nNo pompous title cou d impose\\nOn me, to leave the plain.\\nAn Ix FIXATION to the DaISIE in SPR2B\\nO come, sweet gem, the summer s pride^\\nAnd paint the mountain s brow\\nSweet chants the lark adown thy side 5\\nInviting thee to blow.\\nThe storm is o er, and frosty wind\\nNo more usurps thy rest j", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0099.jp2"}, "100": {"fulltext": "88\\nThen, blushing flow refc, let me find\\nThy bosom sweetly drest.\\nPure virgin, now the sun is crest\\nIII robes of bright array j\\nYoung zephyrs rant, in easy jest,\\nTo give thy spangles way.\\nNo longer sleep, thou charming bud,\\nThe fields in verdure lie,\\nAll nature pants in longing mood,\\nTo view thy bosom play.\\nTo the Music-Bells of Perth.\\nSweet blythesome things that lilt sae gay,\\nWi monie a gleesome sportive lay,\\nAn* fleg\u00c2\u00a7 awa the langsome day\\nIn cantie strain,\\nAn far out-dings the chirpm spray,\\nOr chokin glen,\\nCan I be silent i yir praise,\\nLike some dour sots wi hums an haes,\\nThat^rummle sae on Sabbath-days,\\nThat ye shou d clink,\\nAn haud ilk ane as mortal faes,\\nThat sing or drink\\nNa be the gowan dead in simmer\\nAn has the hemlock scent like am er,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0100.jp2"}, "101": {"fulltext": "8 9\\nArv be dead-dowie ilka Cummer\\nThat wont to sing\\nEre I despise sweet music s clamour,\\nOr thy wild ting.\\nFu weel ye chear the dowie heart\\nWi thy braw sleekit cantie art\\nWeel can ye play the choirer s part,\\nThat glads the ear\\nSae wanton wild, sae funnie smart,\\nThro a the year.\\nNae lassies that sae cantie sing,\\nOr iav rocks blythe on fiaff rin w T ing,\\nBut tines ilk ncte whane er ye ring,\\nWi cantie jow\\nAn listen to thy peerless jing,\\nWi steady pow.\\nWhan beauties thrang upo the Inch,\\nMaun bang the bleachin larig an staunch,\\nAn carelessly their bare legs drench\\nWi blabs o dew\\nRegardless o the Thrush or Finch,\\nThey listen you.\\nSic s Corn-rigs or Banks o Tweed,\\nYe gie a won rous witchin screed,\\nHarmoniously in sportive leed,\\nYe chant away\\nM", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0101.jp2"}, "102": {"fulltext": "9\u00c2\u00b0\\nLike you there s nane on brae or mead,\\nCan tune the lay.\\nWhan I m hauf sleepin, noddin, winkin^\\nOr douceiy at the ingle thinkin,\\nOr mang the browsters rantin drinkin,\\nAs I m right aft\\nYet wild or douce, to hear thee clinkift\\nPits me ay daft.\\nAwa ye pealin rummlin quine\\nThat mang the reelin warl shine\\nWhan your rude roustin pelts combine^\\nWi thump an* clash\\nTis mair to gar our senses tine,\\nThan glad our fash.\\nI ve haurd my honest neibours say,\\nThat whan ye gan to croon an bray,\\nYe was the Deil s harsh spokesman ay r\\nTo gar us shak,\\nAn fleg us frae the chosen way,\\nFTae white to black.\\nThen, hauf-hour sentry, chant awa -ft\\nAn warn s how fast our hours withdraw\\nThat we wi houp may busk us braw,.\\nFrae tae to ear\\nThe auld kirk bell.\\nf The music bells of Perth play every half-hour.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0102.jp2"}, "103": {"fulltext": "9i\\nAn sing thy praise aboon them a\\nIlk blythesonae year.\\nMIDSUMMER FAIR, PERTH.\\nI.\\nW han Phoebus glints fu lang an* brisk,\\nAn scorches sair the plain\\nWhan wanton lambkins blythly frisk,\\nAn sweetly sings ilk swain\\nIn blythe St John s, that ccothie hole,\\nIn countra annals famM,\\nThere hauds a Fair, I wyte fu drollj\\nIn thick carmudlie cram d\\nO fun this day.\\n31.\\nScarce had the sun goup t owre the lan%\\nWi dazzlin yallow blaze,\\nWhan a the kintra, wife an man,\\nAre snod in Sabbath s claes\\nHere Tarn, wi Bess, comes skelpin on,\\nWi han s an face weel synit,\\nHere farmer Rob, an miller John,\\nWi cash their pouch weel lynit.\\nFor drink the day.\\nM2", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0103.jp2"}, "104": {"fulltext": "92\\nIII.\\nThe browster-wives are eident lang,\\nRight fain for a thing snod,\\nAn brawly they can sing their sang,\\nAn best o tidings bode.\\nBrisk reemin cap their gantry pangs,\\nIn daftness for decantin\\nWhilk gars some fallow fin his wrangs\\nO puffie rifts an gauntin,\\nOr pukes niest day,\\nIV.\\nLang jargons now gae thro the fair,\\nFrae Hee-gate Port an downwith\\nThere s some fu wylie shaw their ware,\\nAn ithers baul it roun with\\nSae weePs they ll point the sellrif stuffy\\nTheir stock s a solid v/are\\nAn gin ye get wi them the bluff,\\nSure dinna trust them mair,\\nBy night or day.\\nV.\\nYet, friends, tak tent, thir wylie chaps,\\nAre fairest i the outside\\nYqx whan their crackit ware get knaps^\\nThey haud to you the stout side,\\nHigh- Street.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0104.jp2"}, "105": {"fulltext": "93\\nMy trouth, foment the guard-house door,\\nMeg Angus sair wis blinkit\\nShe coft frae this wild tinkler core\\nFor new, a trencher clinkir,\\nSae frail that day.\\nVI.\\nThe hurly-burly thrangs ding-dang,\\nWi fock o ilka station\\nThe cairds turn up a loyal sang,\\nFor usqusebae libation\\nHorse- Jockies thro the Shoo.gate* rant,\\nWi monie a roust an? rair\\nWhile monie a drucken bousin saunt,\\nIn yon house sweel their care,\\nClean aff the day.\\nVII,\\nThe huxter carlins baul fu loud,\\nCome buy the gustie fairin\\nGinch bannocks sweet mak noble food,\\nTo chew wi reestit hen in 5\\nThere s sweeties here o a kin-kin\\nWe ll sell ye cheap an good,\\nSae binna hainin o yir coin,\\nAn lack sic famous food,\\nAs this the day.\\nSouth- Street.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0105.jp2"}, "106": {"fulltext": "94\\nVIII.\\nThe Norlan chaps adown the street,\\nTurn out their worset hose\\nOur shanks U bang the roughest feet,\\nAn peer the brawest does\\nRight weel we wat they re hashlock oo,\\nThe best *at e er wis creesh t,\\nIt cam frae wild Lochaber crew,\\nIts maik is nae atweesh t\\nAn this the day.\\nIX.\\nThe drums w? reeslin weir-like tuck\\nBid sair to draw us roun them,\\nThe corp ral cries, Wha try their l\\\\ick s\\nHere s whisky-punch to drown them*\\nThe sergeant swears a haly aith,\\nThe first she sees right willin,\\nNor guinea s worth o reemin graith,\\nNor five an twenty shillin,\\nSail twin s the day.\\nThe wabster-callans, awfu chaps,\\nHae now nae thought o knackin,\\nBut cantilie the heapit caps\\nHaud them fu eident crackin", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0106.jp2"}, "107": {"fulltext": "95\\nFor thoVon ither nights they whiles\\nRaise politic debates,\\nThis is a time that civil broils\\nAre drown t in plashin spates\\nO drink the night.\\nXI.\\nNow racer jades, an wizzent bawds,,\\nAt ilka closs-head Stan\\nCleekin pursie frae the lads,\\nIn failin beauty wan\\nKeep yont, ye kintra caftan s, now,\\nFrae thir bewitchin gentry\\nOr else the pelf 11 pay, I vow,\\nFor garnish an for entry\\nMang them the night:\\nXII.\\nThe hurry-burry thranger grows,\\nWi bourachs o ilk trade y\\nThe queans fu fiery frae the stews,\\nEnlist some kintra blade 5\\nWi sleekit gab they fleech him fair\\nHe thinks his station dingair\\nAn cause he coups the reekin ware*\\nThey peel him like an ingan,\\nSae bare the night", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0107.jp2"}, "108": {"fulltext": "9*\\nXIII.\\nDouce fock, beware, wauk circumspect,\\nAn prudent keep a distance,\\nFrae thir unruly vengefu pack.\\nThat s naething sib to Christians\\nWhan clorty whores to brothels mete,\\nThro mirkest vennels sally,\\nThe sons o Belial tak the street,\\nAn thro the city rally,\\nHeroic the night.\\nXIV.\\nLeuk down the gate, what squabble s thon,\\nThat ca s the thrang s attention,\\nSome Flesher wi a gaumon bone\\nBears aft the gree frae Samson,\\nLike Hercules, or war s bauld god,\\nHe shaws himsel He orian,\\nTill heel-owre-head he gets a scud,\\nFor a his awfu gloryin,\\nAn vaunts that night.\\nXV.\\nTak care, my chaps, for now wi virr,\\nComes cockit hats an staves\\nAn e er the rupture s fit to stir,\\nThey hail the bluidy knaves", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0108.jp2"}, "109": {"fulltext": "97\\nSome blameless birkie i* the thrang*\\nLats consultation pick im\\nAn by the cuff he s led alang,\\nAn* settl d wi some niccum,\\nIn quad yon night.\\nXVI.\\nCome, fiddlers, gie yir strings a twang,\\nAn rozet weel the bow,\\nAn scrieck awa a cantie sang,\\nFrae Allan or Neil Gow\\nFor now the sun, nae doubt, for shame,\\nJeuks neath the westlinlift*\\nAn ne er a ane has scar nir lame,\\nFor ilka ane s in tift\\nFor reels the night.\\nXVII.\\nThe kintra bodies, fy for shame\\nAre nvill to ken the gate\\nThey graip an* styter, bent for hame,\\nWhan it grows gay an late\\nThe chields an cummers, han in han\\nThat whisky wae betide,\\nDaft on the fields, they tak them bieldsj\\nAn clank them side by side,\\nTo daff that night,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0109.jp2"}, "110": {"fulltext": "98\\nXVIII.\\nO cou d the hill o auld Kinnoul,\\nIn gabbin elocution,\\nBut fair divest, there s monie a soul\\nWad sairly need ablution\\nWhan we hae hap to prie a cap,\\nOr taste our sugar-candy,\\nMay ne er the session s greedie tap^\\nE er cleek in houghmagandie,\\nOursel nae day*\\nXIXc\\nA drap o whisky s guid to see,\\nWhan spirits laigh are sinkin\\nAn trouth it settles monie a plea 5\\nSober or rantin drinkin\\nExperience may lear us fair 5\\nAe dram is full sufficient,\\nAn mickle mair 11 grieve ye sair,\\nWhan ye grow auld an wizzent s\\nAn stiff yon day,\\nOn seeing IV G N sleeping in\\nthe KlRX.\\nhatreck, ye drowsie drumlie flicp\\nHow dare ye mint to nod an sleep,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0110.jp2"}, "111": {"fulltext": "99\\nWhare icher haly creatures weep,\\nFor past transgressions^\\nWi conscience penitence sae deep,\\nAn lang confessions\\nSwith hame, ye dizzy dytit tyke,\\nAn nae come here yir een to pike\\nGae tak a nap at some sod dike,\\nAn ease yir load,\\nSeek onie hole at e er ye like,\\nBut house o G\\nMy vera flesh an saul are gnawin,\\nTo see ye gruntin, soughin, blawin,\\nAn whiles yir heavy noddle fa in,\\nWi lazy knyte\\nAnon, yir leaden crown ye re clawin 5\\nWi girnin spite.\\nNow, shou d the parson chance to see ye 3\\nA braw gueed e en I think he d gie ye,\\nI sudna wiss in trouth to be ye,\\nIn sic a blunner\\nIn maik o swine he wadna lea e ye\\nAn faith nae wonner,\\nan I war bit whare I wud be,\\nJust whare a straik I cannie cud gie^\\n1 aike, an wad yir heavy fud gie\\nA piercin pike\\nNa", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0111.jp2"}, "112": {"fulltext": "ido\\nPack to yir hammack whare ye sud be,\\nYe fousurn tyke.\\nEpitaph on a Wag in S*******;\\nAneath this sod lies Sandie W***,\\nWe watna whare his dwallin s now\\nWhan here, we ken what pleas d him besU\\nFor wife an ha a whore, a stew.\\nFor a Noted Lawyer*\\nHere Iigs a wight o awfu note,\\nWha aft sleek t justice by im\\nAn e en whan death cam glowrin ben*\\nHe thought he wad defy im.\\nBut, och the dog trail t him alang,\\nAn lodg d him wi auld Satan y\\nDerf Pluto met him at the gate,\\nAn yark t im wi a bauton.\\nQuo death, There s ane ll jink your wit,\\nA dog o kittle sense,\\nBe sure ye lodge im in a neuk,\\nWhare brimstane reeks intense.\\nTrouth sae we sail, quo Hornie dour*\\nHe s sicker here, I ll caition,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0112.jp2"}, "113": {"fulltext": "ioi\\nFor justice is admin ster d stiff,\\nThro a our bleeztn nation.\\nFor 7**** jp****** J p***\u00c2\u00ab**#\\nHere W****** lies, a maikless knave,\\nTo r/W his post, to pilfer s callin j\\nLat fortune lour, his lodgin s sure,\\nThe deil s his host, an hell s his dwalfiru\\nFor a Friend.\\nJJere lies interred below this stone.\\nHe who ne er listened misery s moan\\nWithout a pitying sigh\\nThe gods look d down, and saw in man\\nTruth, love, and peace conjoint in one,\\nSo plac d his soul on high,\\nTo the Friendly Society of\\nMail friends in community linkit,\\nTo free ilka gray-back frae care,\\nSure rattle-pow d poets may think it,\\nThey ll never want Hallowmas fare.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0113.jp2"}, "114": {"fulltext": "102\\nCorn-hoorders, an meal-coupin p s,\\nMay appeal unto black Pandemon\\nAn bann how they ve lang been their teachers,\\nYet left them in case of och-hon.\\n-p****** G may advise wi auld Charon\\nHow he at loch Styx may get thro\\nFor he s sure o the primitive Carron,\\nOr else t be timid need few.\\nw gftptfft an a the Nick tracers\\nThat heap up their pelf by deceit,\\nMay pray to the Cairnbulg fishers\\nTo grant them the lug o a sket.\\nSince ye by yir friendly convention\\nHave clad raggit poverty s back\\nEe t yir hearty an earnest intention,\\nTo yark down Oppression to wrack.\\nMay success an plenty attend ye,\\nWi honesty mark d in yir face,\\nAn whan Heaven upward doth send ye,\\nMay ye leave a generous race.\\nA famous fifh-town.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0114.jp2"}, "115": {"fulltext": "C 103\\nODE,\\nWritten in Summer to G*****, Esq. of\\n^V r HiLE hummin bees o er hill and plain,\\nSweet lull asleep the drowsy swain,\\nOn downy banks or braes\\nWhile lasses sweetly lilt and sing,\\nOr rant around in pastime s ring,\\nAt bleachin o their claise\\nBeholding nature s various face,\\nI wander on wi thoughtless pace,\\nListnin ilk chirp in spray\\nTill down by Eugie s flow ry linns,\\nI rest among the blooming whins,\\nFrom sultry parching day.\\nWhat beauties do the shades disclose\\nThe shading birk protects the rose,\\nWhere G***** loves to dwell\\nBlest in his fate, the humble swain,\\nSeeks happ ness on the rural plain,\\nAnd bids the crowd farewell.\\nO matchless G*^*** generous friend\\nWhat numbers could thy fame extend*\\nThe mind so poiish d clear", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0115.jp2"}, "116": {"fulltext": "C 104 1\\nWhen thou so form d to shine in courts*\\nYet joyous joins our country-sports,\\nThro all the circlin yean\\nI can discern on yonder plain,\\nThe home of many a rural swain,\\nThy grove-encircled seat\\nMethinks I see thee careless stray,\\nAnd cull the flowers which bounteous May\\nHath strew d beneath thy feet.\\nThere todling riv lets wildly play,\\nUnseen beneath the shading bay,\\nWith many a silver trout\\nHere daisies paint the velvet linns,\\nThere ingles clad with rushy rin s,\\nWhere fountains wildly spout.\\nAdown the gtade the lambkin frisks,\\nUntrodden paths the maukin whisks,\\nIn fearless sportive glee.\\nThe crooping rook his city builds,\\nThe lofty fir the mavis shields,\\nThe turtle skims the lea.\\nNo joyous murdVmg sportsman s yell,\\nDare wildly howl on hill or dell,\\nAll in their horrid pride\\nNo clown disturb the tiny train,\\nIn sylvan bush, or clover d plain.\\nThat in thy bounds reside*", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0116.jp2"}, "117": {"fulltext": "io 5\\nThis leaves behind the city s boast,\\nThe baneful tribe that s wildly toss d\\nTo vice alluruig gains\\nThis Leaves di exalccd pomp of state,\\nWith all their pageantry elate,\\nWhich rural life disdains.\\nHere liberty exulting strays,\\nAnd fancy skips a thousand ways,\\nThe tide of joy to swell\\nThe loving pair, with accents mild,\\nGuileless beneath the covert wild,\\nMay breathe the loving tale.\\nYe tuneful birds, at dawn of day,\\nThro woodlands sound thy matin lay,\\nIn matchless G*****^ praise\\nWhile Philomela s warbling tongue,\\nShall tune her peerless nightly song,\\nAmongst the birken sprays.\\nWe see in him ilk grace combined,\\nA generous, clear, unclouded mind,\\nA feeling soul in woe\\nLet cloudless bliss, and lasting joy,\\nUnhinge his care, and grief annoy,\\nA heaven here below.\\nO", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0117.jp2"}, "118": {"fulltext": "io6\\nEpistle to J. i?******.\\nScorn d be the wretch that quits his genial bowl;\\nHis loves, his friendships, ev n his self resigns,\\nPerverts the sacred, instinct of his soul,\\nAnd to a ducat s dirty sphere confines.\\nShensUne*\\nI.\\nyt hile snaw the frosty bunkerts theek,\\nAn* hinds about the fire-side beek\\nTheir dead frost-nippit taes 5\\nOr pale-fac t wights, wiVchurkin feet,\\nJogs Will amo the wearie sleet,\\nWi thread-bare raggit claes\\nTo keep my saul frae grumlin care,\\nOr thoughts o lank starvation,\\nI write ye here some hame-made ware*\\nWi sulky expectation\\nThinkin* yir rinkin,\\nMang knabs o kittle lear\\nYe ll tear it, an jeer it,\\nCa t buff beyond compare*\\nII.\\nBut haud me there, my clatter s rife^\\nBen comes a flistin cankert wife,\\nJust frae a neib rin garret,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0118.jp2"}, "119": {"fulltext": "t 107\\nSays, M Cease, you whimsy rattlin scull,\\nYe canna want it maugre snool\\nTo imitate a parrot\\nMy heart forebodes we ll get a scare,\\nWi you some luckless mornin,\\nWi beagles reeslin up the stair,\\nT gie y a charge o hornin\\nYe deave fock, an grieve fock,\\nWi roustin down-right blether,\\nIt s endless, sae stend less,\\nOr else I ll tann yir leather.\\nIII.\\nDouce wife, quoth I, what means the fizz,\\nThat ye shaw sic a frightfu gizz,\\nAnent a kyte-clung poet\\nIt canna be an envious grin,\\nThat gars ye snarle a carkie chin,\\nI never meant to beau it I\\nNa, na, resum d she wi a sneer,\\nShamlin her gab a-jee,\\nWyte weel I wiss ye hale an fier,\\nAn life wi endless glee,\\nBut sorry I m for ye,\\nTo see yir cloutless back\\nPoor caitiff, I doubt if\\nYir purse contains a plack.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0119.jp2"}, "120": {"fulltext": "io8\\niv.\\nThis chuck t my gab, x to think a wee,\\nHow I buit thole sic stormia bree,\\nAn tauntin frae a carlin\\nAn 5 yet I durstna creuk my mou\\nFor weel I kent the tale wis true,\\nMy amry fient a farle in\\nI thinks again, it cheers my brain,\\nI ve cantie frien*s the wyle o*\\n1 cocks my snout, syne taks the rout,\\nJust wi a second holo\\nHammerin, an stammerin,\\nAs if I d been cork-headit\\nI yelpit, an skelpit,\\nWhat dang mysel to read it,\\n*But a 9 this time the wearie muse\\nSat yont the bink wi hingin brows,\\nTill waukent wi my rairin j\\nFell wild an haggart was her mien,\\nLike as she d thol t some dreadfu pain,\\nOr been in sorrow lairiiij\\nShe made right haul to ken the cause,\\nThat made her wight sae vockie,\\nI taul her how our neibour Mause\\nCa d him a dytit buckie,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0120.jp2"}, "121": {"fulltext": "io9\\nMisca d him, sail gaw d him,\\nAbout the rade o singin,\\nTwas bootless, an cloutless,\\nWeel, troth, quo she, that s dingin.\\nVI.\\nSays she, Fm blythe, an* mair na blythe,\\nTo see dame Fun upo thee kythe,\\nAn thro yir fancies wam le\\nYe ve warded weel the carlin s taunts,\\nThen lat s advance some decent tsiaunt^\\nYe ve had a lang pream le\\nFor Tarn s a lad, ye ken yirseF,\\nThat wadna see ve wrang t,\\nThen gie him verse the vera wyle,\\nAn decent wit amang c\\nHe s friendly, an 5 kindly,\\nTo chear a carking hour\\nWhan dytin, an snytin,\\nA word frae hurt s a cure.\\nVII.\\nCompliance wi my lass direct,\\nI se doucely a my gumption raick,\\nWhile she sits glowrin owre me\\nO Tarn, ye are a coothie chap 5\\nAs e er exast in nature s lap,\\nOr may the Fates devour me", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0121.jp2"}, "122": {"fulltext": "\u00c2\u00bbo\\nSweet love an joy are i y yir smiles,\\nAn* pity s i yir breast\\nLat furies chase him that beguiles\\nThy heart, the vera least\\nSome smilin s beguilin,\\nIn this unsteady round j\\nAn rudeness, as goodness,\\nExperience hath found.\\nVIII.\\nIn morn of life, how aft have we^\\nTo list the shade s spontaneous glee,\\nFrom tiny throngs retir d\\nOr, sporting by the riv let s brink,\\nThe sweetest joy of life wou d drink,\\nWith guileless love inspir d\\nO blissful days, surpassing gone,\\nToo profulent to last,\\nO youth how squand ring of the loan,\\nHow prodigal to waste\\nHow careless, how fearless,\\nOf coming hardship s cloy,\\nTill age comes, with sage hums,\\nTo banish every joy.\\nIX.\\n1 never may the gen rous mind,\\nEndure a sullen adverse wind,\\nOr pinch in drearie cares", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0122.jp2"}, "123": {"fulltext": "III\\nIf poverty deny him rest,\\nMay friendship never be replac d,\\nWhich ev ry loss impairs.\\nHow flitt ring is ilk joy o life,\\nTis gone ere we descry t\\nOur every hour would lig in strife,\\nIf friendship was decy t,\\nWhose pleasures are treasures,\\nMore than the glitt rinshew\\nOf riches, who hitches\\nA fool s uplifted view*\\nX.\\nHow exquisite the loving friend,\\nWhen sour adversity may bend\\nThe wight in dire distress\\nTis then he views the friendly tie 5\\nThe feeling of the heart will vie\\nWith ev ry other bliss\\nNo roaring stream, nor spiry rock\\nCan e er retard his steps\\nEnvy may scoff, envy may mock,\\nYet he his pleasure reaps\\nWhere groaning, where moaning^\\nIn death-like torture lies,\\nThe friend, mind, will bend kind*\\nFull eager to release.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0123.jp2"}, "124": {"fulltext": "C 112\\nXI.\\nYe Powers whose careful strewing hands\\nDo bounteously supply out lands\\nWith overflowing store,\\nDeny me not a social frien\\nRemove me far from care an spleen,\\nGrant this, I ask no more\\nThen, partial Fortune, restless, blind,\\nImpart to whom ye will,\\nI jeer thy paltry diamond mine,\\nI spurn thy various drill,\\nWhose joys are toys,\\nUnsteady as the wind\\nYet jimpin an scrimpin\\nTo ev ry feeling mind.\\nXII.\\nMy muse sits dull, an wi a girn,\\nBids me hae done,, an reel my pirn,\\nEre Morpheus beguile j\\nFu fast she s ca d the rim about,\\nAn thraml t aff wi awfu rout,\\nFor friendship gae her oil.\\nShou d I to earth s remotest sky\\nIn solitude be plac t,\\n\u00e2\u0096\u00a0Enraptur d with that friendly tie,\\nMv bosom wou d find rest.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0124.jp2"}, "125": {"fulltext": "W\\nTis charming, disarming\\nThe noxious thought of fate,\\nAnd smiling, beguiling\\nLife s end-approaching date.\\nXIIIo\\nO wad ye come an* see our town,\\nWhare Tay s sweet current wimples down,\\nFu cantie an fu clear\\nWe ve lasses here the vera wyle,\\nWha wad a carking hour beguile,\\nAh a yir senses chear\\nI d be right vockie wi ye, man,\\nAn twa three mair o s here,\\nWha wad right coothie coup the cann,\\nAn toast ye hale an fier\\nSae blessin, an kissin,\\nBefa ye frae the fair,\\nAn health man, an wealth man,\\nShine on ye late an air*\\nPerth) Dec. 24. 1803*", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0125.jp2"}, "126": {"fulltext": "c u4 t\\nPATIE AND ROBIE.\\nr\\nPastoral Eclogue on the- death of Dr James\\nBEAT TlEy late Professor of Moral Philosophy m\\nMaris hall College Aberdeen.\\nPATIE.,\\nCome, Robie, whare the pipe ye*ve wont to hae\\nSure some daft quean hath dung yir saul to wae\\nAn \u00c2\u00abwhare s yir bonn t that erst wis buskit braw\\nAn whare s yir plaid that bang t the norlen blaw\\nHas some bit lammie: strayed ayont the knowe\\nOr has some deadly yampher fell t a yowe\\nThat ye gang craz t, wi bleers adown yir cheeks,\\nAn 5 hings yir head, an granes, but never speaks\\nROB IE\\nIt s nae for queans, wi caulrif nippin scorn.\\nIt s nae for raggit poortith hief nir horn,\\nThat I gang drearie frae the bucht alane,\\nAn tines the pearly drappies frae my een.\\nLast year derf Don cam down in furious rate,\\nAn rampit o er his banks, a doughty spate,\\nThat bore awa just se enteen wathers prime,\\nAn saxteen yowes just at the lammin time\\nForbye three raw o bonnie sprootin saugh,\\nAn twa snug stacks o sprotts upo the haugh", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0126.jp2"}, "127": {"fulltext": "Yet did I grane, or sob on brae or lea\\nOr saw ye e er a tear rin frae my e e\\nOr wantin plaid, or bonnet leukit hum\\nOr wis my fliet or chanter ever dumb\\nNa, Patie, man, sic triflin skaiths as thae\\nHad never pith to daunt my cantie lay,\\nSic shabby losses stand i little buke,\\nNir o my heart wad e er they shak a neuk\\nBut yet for Jamie maun ilk shepherd mourn,\\nShepherds to come shall weet his sacred urn.\\nPATIE.\\nOh waes my heart nae ferlie, then, that ye\\nShou d gang sae wees t, an tine yir wonted glee\\nHence affye idle reed, for now thy strain,\\nBrings twa-fald sorrow to a dowie swain.\\nDead say ye, ah my heart is chilly caul,\\nWaes me whan I gae to the criv or f?.ul,\\nNae mair I ll hear his reed s harmonious soun\\nWhich aft has cheer d in me a cantie stoun\\nAn gart me loup till I maist tint the gate,\\nWhile wanton lambkins reel t in mirthfu rate\\nWeel might I ken, last night forbodk ill,\\nAs I was tytin lazy frae the hill,\\nSomething gat up, an wi a weeack dire,\\nGaed flaughtinjaff, an vanish t like a fire\\nMy Collie bouff t, an rear t his curlin birse,\\nMy sheep right erf ran bleatin ov/re the girse\\nPa", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0127.jp2"}, "128": {"fulltext": "ntf\\nI sheuk mysel an soufPt to fleg the fear,\\nBut yet my heart foretaul some sorrow near,\\nROBIE.\\nSee how the birdies droop on ilka tree,\\nFor him whase notes cou d chearfu influence gie,\\nHear Don gangs mournin wi a dowie din.\\nAn bids ilk burnie leave its dearest kin,\\nThe flow ry swaird an gowany deckit linn\\nFor now nae niair the numbers o his sang\\nMak blythe the stream as gay it glides alang,\\nMirthless an* dowie it hears ilk shepherd s *loan.\\nAn to the ocean bears the heavy groan.\\nPATIE.\\nHow sweetly did he on yon foggy brae\\nPoint out the beauty o ilk Scottish lay\\nBlythe Allie s pipe, how did he praise the strain\\nO Fergie s reed he spak ilk listnin swain\\nLap wild wi glee, an sang his matchless skill,\\nWhich join d the chorus did ilk neibourin rill,\\nROBIE.\\nHow aft upo yon heath-clad mossy steep,\\n(Whan glomin grey bade s gather hame our sheep)^\\nHave we beheld him dim in musin mood,\\nOr on the plain, or by the murm rin flood,\\nOr singin s lays o Minstrelsy whase vogue\\nShall last while Terra on Us axles shogg", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0128.jp2"}, "129": {"fulltext": "H7\\nOr o* the burn that down the craigie thuds\\nOr o* the hawthorn s infant-sprootin buds\\nWhich gars mc weep, an sigh in dowie care,\\nTo think that we can never see him mair.\\nNit s that alane the loss that we maun mourn,\\nWe ll thole the loss an skaith at ilka turn\\nFor in bis saul .vis ev ry guid combin d,\\nTo mak him generous, coothie, warm, an kind\\nWhich claims ilk sangster s weed o sablest hue,\\nTill sacred dirges pay the rites mat s due.\\nPATIE.\\nHad onie black mishanter been my fate,\\nHe d cantie made me, be it air or late.\\nHad ragglish win s untheekit barn or byre,\\nHad hog or wadder lair t in bog or mire,\\nHad wylie Lowrie cjeekit aff a lam\\nOr craggy heugh had thrawn a queack s shaum,\\nOr onie graith gane vrang bout pleugh or cart,\\nOr dorty queans gane arslins wi* my heart,\\nM Chear up, dull callant, tak thy pipe an play,\\nSome cantie lilt, fu kindly wad he say,\\nThat, or we part t, I hae been as fain,\\n*S gin a the warld wide had been my nain,\\nROB IE.\\nThe praise that s due to him gin we assay\\nTo speak t,wad spin the langest simmer-day", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0129.jp2"}, "130": {"fulltext": "iiB\\nThen let s be mute, for now Elysian lays\\nHis reed maun tune, an weel he s won the bays, i\\nBays which, whan here, right eagerly he sought, N\\nNow he enjoys, .an* thinks them easy bought,\\nPATIE.\\nLet us be wise, an* follow wisdom s fays,\\nAn strive to paint an emblem of his ways^\\nSince happiness by honest deeds we ll wun,\\nLet us, like him, ilk frenzied passion shun\\nThen, led by virtue, reach the happy shore,\\nWhare dowie sorrow ne er willgrieve us more,\\nThe court of bliss, an pleasure s endless store.\\nAN ODE,\\nWith, a Pastoral Recitative, on the Marriage of\\nhis Grace the DUKE of BEDFORD, and LaDT\\nGeorgina Gordon.\\nJL o be whare daisies beautified field,\\nAn whare the plains prolific pastures yield,\\nSee Nell an Sandie brattlin down the brae,\\nSheep nibblin thrang, while sportive lambkins play\\nFar yont the burnie Geordie rins wi speed,\\nNimmle o shanks, his face like ome.gleed.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0130.jp2"}, "131": {"fulltext": "H9\\nTo tell them tid ns,wi glee their hearts will sting,\\nWhile they unheeding dance, an love, an sing.\\nSANDIE.\\nNow winter is gane, an caul win s are awa;,\\nAn birken green bowers smile bonnie an braw 5\\nThe Thrush an the Linnet carol on ilk spray,\\nAn flocks owre the mountains wild gambol an strcr 5\\nWhile Phoebus refulgent diffuses keen heat,\\nLat s down i the valley seek caller retreat,\\nWhile our flocks are reposing en yon burn-brae,\\nAdown the clear fountain I ll hear thy sweet lay,\\nNELL,\\nO sweet rins the burnie meandering lang,\\nTo the shade where we wont mang the willows his\\ngang\\nThere pu the red roses, an busk to our pleas V\\nAn snuff the mild zephyr that soughs thro 1 th\u00c2\u00ab tree?,\\nGEORDIE,\\nDaft gytlin things what gypltness is this\\nRairin yir love-tales wi a hopefu kiss\\nCome sing wi me o things wi far mair feck.\\nAn nae wi daffin owre the bruntlin geek\\nThis day weel sets us to fling afF ilk care.\\nAn wi our glee gas ilka hillock rair,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0131.jp2"}, "132": {"fulltext": "I20\\nSANDIE.\\nVow, Geof3ie man, what dings yir saul sae daft,\\nWi chackit plaid, an hose o silken waft\\nCome tell s the fun, that we may rant wi thee,\\nAn gie the simmer s day to mirth an glee.\\nGEORDIE.\\nTis fun, my callant, that ll gar ye jump,\\nE en tho yir saul war dead s a doeken rump\\nGeorgina, loveliest lass o a the plain,\\nFrae Scotia s come, an what ll mak ye fain,\\nConsents wi mutual love to bless the swain\\nConsents in trouth, an by this time they re knut\\nIn Hymen s bands\\nNELL.\\nI m like to tine my wut,\\nSpeak fast na, George, that we may a rejoice,\\nAn sing the happy pair wi tunefu voice.\\nGEORDIE.\\nWhat joy t reveals to ilka jieibourin herd,\\nBe i the chorus ilka tunefu bird,\\nThe fairest nymph that ever trode the green\\nHath now confess d by her love-laughin een\\nThat Bedford fair shall grace her nuptial bed,\\nTo us a bless n,\\nSANDIE. v\\nAn a the plain beside\\ni", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0132.jp2"}, "133": {"fulltext": "121\\nIt twines my heart-strings up to sic a pin,\\nI b lieve my saul will bout out through my skin,\\nCome near me, Nell, let s kiss thy cheek an lief,\\nAn syne lilt happ ness to the peerless chief,\\nAn his lov d mate, whase ev ra charm s delight,\\nEmblem o virtue, an o beauty bright.\\nCome gie s a sang now, lass, for I m in.tift,\\nTo gar the notes bring echo frae the lift.\\nNELLY.\\nWi as guid-will s I e er receiv d a gift,\\n(Sings.)\\nRejoice, ilk herd, owre hill an dale,\\nTill glens gie back the yamour\\nTune up yir reeds wi dinsome yell,\\nAn music s sweetest clamour\\nA lily fair, o ancient stem,\\nLang fam d in Scottish story,\\nUnices her love an heart to him,\\nWhase sires war Albion s glory,\\nSANDIE-\\nBlest in his fate, how happy s he\\nWhan leaning on her bosom\\nThe weary guest she ll now let free,\\nThat s lang lodg d in the blossom\\nWith love-exalted accents sweet,\\nOn ithcr fondly gazing,\\na.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0133.jp2"}, "134": {"fulltext": "C 122\\nTill gods perfection see replete,\\nAn envy bliss amazing.\\nGEORDIE.\\nM ajr peace an wealth blink on their days,\\nAn hap a blissful treasure\\nLet joy an love, wi mutual rays*\\nEnsure them lasting pleasure I\\nWhile manly ardours fire his soul,\\nFor fame an* freedom soaring,\\nLet teeming love, without controul,\\nBe endless pleasure storing*\\nCHORUS.\\nRejoice, ilk herd, owre hill an dale,,\\nTill glens gie back the yamour\\nTune up yir reeds wi dinsome yell,\\nAn music s sweetest clamour\\nA lily fair, o ancient stem,\\nLang fam d in Scottish story,\\nUnites her love an heart to him\\nWhase sires war Albion s glory.\\nEPIGRAM,\\nU nto the mount of Ida once\\nThree goddesses resistless came^", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0134.jp2"}, "135": {"fulltext": "123\\nAnd earnest summon d ev ry glance,\\nThat could procure them beauty s fame.\\nThen Paris stood in wav ring thought,\\nWhich of the three he would prefer,\\nWhile Venus the decision brought,\\nBy proff ring woman peerless fair.\\nSo had Georgina blossom d then,\\nEv n neath Britannia s lonely skies,\\nWith raptur d breast, the Phrygian swain\\nHad claim d her as his matchless prize.\\nTo Mr C on reading some of his\\nExcellent Poems.\\nScotia may boast of bards with ardent fire,\\nSince C tunes his lute so mild and free\\nWhat bard could paint, who tune the Attic lyre,\\nSurpassing C s sweet harmonious glee\\nFrom Perthes plain, a bard of rustic hue,\\nDelights to sing the numbers he admires,\\nNor less delights to sing the praise that s due,\\nAnd more he reads, more eager he desires.\\nFrom morn to night, bewilder d in a maze\\nOf fancies vain, where Tay in cadence glides\\nIf sorrow lours, I summon to my gaze\\nThy matchless lays, where virtue ever guides*", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0135.jp2"}, "136": {"fulltext": "C 124\\nPursue, sweet bard, the race you have begun\\nGive genius vent, paint love and virtue join d,-\\nTill where the Indian first perceives the sun,\\nTo India back, all s in your praise combined.\\nSONG,\\nTune, Humours of Glen.\\nTo the Athgle Volunteers.\\nO whare hae ye wander d, my loving young lassie,\\nYour cheeks are sae bleer t, an sae blubbit adown\\nMethinks I hae seen ye link on the green gaucy,\\nThat leads o er the mountain toPerth sbonnietown.\\nO busk yir locks trigly, an kilt up yir coaties,\\nAn dry up that tearie, and synd yir face clean,\\nFor auld Caledonia, dearie, my lot is\\nTo shine in bright armour o Perth s bonnie green,\\nSHE.\\nO how can I busk, whan my heart is sae wearie\\nOr how can I kilt, whan I m dowie wi care\\nO how can I smile, whan ilk object is drearie\\nTo me, an forebodes I ll see Donald nae mair\\nNae mair can the simmer s sweet daisy-clad valley,\\nNae mail can the lambkins that dance on the green,\\nNae mair can the lav rock that warbles sae gaily,\\n(Whan twin d o her Donald), bring comfort to\\nJean.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0136.jp2"}, "137": {"fulltext": "C 125\\nHE.\\nAlas how it grieves me to see ye sae dowie,\\nAn think that thy bosom sud rend wi despair;\\nTis honour that calls me, and fame beets the lowe ay,\\nAn gratitude whispers defence o the fair.\\nThen chear ye, my lassie, the Fates are propitious,\\nDispel ilk vain sorrow, and banish ilk care\\nMy hopes are on peace, whase each charm is delicious,\\nAn then I ll leave thee an Breadalbane nae mair.\\nSHE.\\nHow sweet have we listen d, ilk gay sunny morning,\\nThe spray where the choristers glad a the plain\\nAlas now I ll wander adown the glade mourning,\\nAn tempt viewless echo to tell the sad strain.\\nMay Heav n shield frae danger the laddie that io es me,\\nAn peace soon return, wha hath raptures to share\\nThen the loves, (tho in fondness), will read ly excuse\\nme,\\nWhan he leaves his Jean an Breadalbane nae mair.\\nWritten on the Author s Return to Buchan y i8cr.\\nW elcome, ye coothie canty howie,\\nWhare roun the ingle bickers row ay\\nTrouth I wis laith, an unca dowie,\\nFan twin t o* thee,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0137.jp2"}, "138": {"fulltext": "1 2,5\\nBut now my heart will chearfu glow ay\\nWi rantin glee.\\nTho* Carse o Gowrie was right gay,\\nIts fertile plain, St Johnston s stay*\\nYet far awa frae thee in May,\\nWis wae to think,\\nAn douf, to mind o cockin hay\\nOn Eugie s brink*\\nFrae Mormond s tow rin tap are seen\\nThe laughin Naiads bonnie sheen,\\nVerdant the haughs whare aft Fve been\\nWi love inspir d,\\nSweetly in youthheed s mirky scene\\nWi pleasure fir d*\\nAwa vile trash, thou wardle s gain,\\nRackin our thoughts wi care an* pain\\nFull dytit s he that leaves the plain,\\nIn quest o thee\\nGypit to fend, an drumlie fain\\nTo live or die.\\nNow, Buchan, thou rt the canty neuk,\\nRight cannie neath the wardle s leuk,\\nWhare I may lig aside the creuk\\nThe ev nins lang,\\nAn frae derf Borean rustles jeuk,\\nAn weave my -sang.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0138.jp2"}, "139": {"fulltext": "127\\nThro heath-clad muirs in simmer-days,\\nMay I na blythely tune my lays\\nAn* whare the pleasant burnie strays\\nWi tunefu din\\nAs weel s amang the birk whare Tay s\\nGay currents rin\\nAs blythe upon a whin-clad brae,\\nWhere shepherds pu the berries blae,\\nAn whare the wanton lammies mae,\\nAn hillock scours,\\nAs whare the shades reflect the ray\\nWi glintin flowVs\\nNature to me hath pleasing charms,\\nWhan verdant simmer kindly warms-\\nOr rairin winter ragin storms\\nIn wild career,\\nWhan boilin oceans rude alarms\\nThe list ning ear,\\nFrien s, laith to part, now happy met,\\nLet s fling far hence baith spleen an hate\\nDoucely submittin to our fate\\nWi mirthfu e e 5\\nWhate er s our fare, let foul debate\\nBe drown t wi glee,\\nIt s braw whan fock can be content,\\nWi what the gods have kindly lent", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0139.jp2"}, "140": {"fulltext": "128\\nThey re happy on the moorlan bent\\nWi simple fare,\\nAs is the laird wi a his rent,\\nAn feckfu skair.\\nThe Blacksmith to his auld Bellow s, on\\nremoving her.\\nAn maun we part, my guid auld breukie\\nMaun ye be twin t o* that lyche neukie,\\nWhare ye hae win t sae lang\\nLaith is my heart to part wi thee\\nOch-hon fou monie a day wi glee\\nYe ve sough t, an I hae sang\\nYet part we must, derf ruin says,\\nFor a the rovin merry days\\nWe ve spent wi ane anither\\nThe dearest frien s ae day maun sinder,\\nThe nearest ties the sibbest kinder,\\nThe son, the wife, an brither*\\nWeel dif I mind yir souple flaps\\nCud sook the win* wi sudden claps,\\nAn* blaw a rampin gleed,\\nTill roostie aim wad spit an fizz,\\nAn coals upo the hearth-stane bizz,\\nAn* lowan vapour dread.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0140.jp2"}, "141": {"fulltext": "I2 9\\nmonie a mornin wi the lark,\\nHae I an you been at the wark,\\nAn ay T fand ye willin\\nAn be the ingle ne er sae sma%\\nYe chear t it up wi cannie blaw,\\nSae keen s ye wis o fullin.\\n1 thought I ne er cou d wurk aneugh\\nWi you, ye steed me ay sae teugh,\\nAn blew a maikless blouter\\nFu monie a pleugh ye ve hauden a yird,\\nAn gi en the gaudsman monie a dird,\\nAt layin sock or cou ter\\nWhan I had coup t the reemin cap,\\nAn o yir hurdies gien a clap,\\nSaid, Bellows try yir pith j\\nFu fast ye gar t the hammer clink,\\nAn bang t the ploughman frae the bink,\\nYe streek t sae lim an lith.\\nNow ye are crazy, sae am I,\\nAn crazy fock hae little gy\\nW? youngsters skiegh an swack\\nThe hoary head, the wrinkled brow,\\nIn youth s unwary thoughtless view,\\nHas monie a flaw an crack,\\nR", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0141.jp2"}, "142": {"fulltext": "13\u00c2\u00b0\\nCou d they a timeous pattern lear\\nBy you, (while they stand hale an fier),\\nAn catch the maments fast\\nLet time with unremitting pace\\nArrest their sinews, wan their face,\\nThey d pleasing eye the pist.\\nOn seeing a LADY S BONNEtfall off.\\nWhen the merchant has goods of a valuable hue,\\nHe bodes on the buyer to view them\\nBut you, my sweet lady, have thousands of charms,\\nAnd yet tis an accident shews them.\\nODE,\\nWritten in December 1803.\\nJBelive the caller days come in,\\nAn skytin hailstanes I s the win\\nUpo our winnocks rattle j\\nLat s clank oursel ayont the fire,\\nAn bang up sonnets o the lyre,\\nAn sing or wather sattle.\\nFor tho the hours are dowie now,\\nThe time will nae doubt come,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0142.jp2"}, "143": {"fulltext": "Whan we will nod a cheerie pow,\\nAn* wag a cantie thum\\nBlack be his fa whase meagre face\\nMaun shaw his saul a dronnin bass\\nA peevish girnin giump\\nBaughly dytin ay i th mist.\\nAn* tho ye d chear his saul, it s jist\\nA whissle for a trump\\nFor whan the spring comes mild an meek,\\nOr hoary winter s grim,\\nNae blythsome hour can add or eik.\\nHe s i the self-same trim.\\nThen let us line this clay-built cot,\\nWi what is grantit to our lot,\\nWi mirth an Wythe content\\nNe er thinkin how the wardle shoggs,\\nBut cannie tytin thro the bogs\\nO life s unwary bent.\\nFor tho the Thane may grandly kythe,\\nWhan gowd on s harness tingle\\nYet ken the Cobler s aft as blythe\\nWi s ailisoa an s lingle.\\nR2", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0143.jp2"}, "144": {"fulltext": "132\\nr A PiriroRT Epistle to Mr Addinoton\\n-Now, frien sin hurly-burly s owre\\nO Parliament s thick reekin stowre,\\nWill ye but tak a single hour\\nO leeshins giver\\nFor sic sma space, nae wit ll sour\\nTJpo yir liver*\\nMy mither-gab ye ll scantly ken t^\\nSic lallan s o 3 codroch dint,\\nAn* sieth it rs but hameil pen t,\\nLike bladd rin blunks,\\nBe as it will, ye ll get a glint\\nO Scottish sunks f\\nRairin at times wi empty bag\\nSinkin wi care we aften fag\\nStrummin about a gill we re lag,\\nSyne drowsy hum j\\nThat by my saul we ve scarce a tag\\nTo hap our bum.\\nThe race o chaps now Scotia rears,\\nAre far frae like their auld forbears\\nWrote last prorogation of Parliament.\\nf Seats built of turf in the country, commonly at the\\ngabel of the house, where the business of the day is dis-\\ncussed.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0144.jp2"}, "145": {"fulltext": "C *33\\nWitness for that some fock are liars,\\nOr else the fail\\nS a reason great that whisky clears\\nIlk flaw an crack.\\nSma cause, said they, had guts to croot\\nFor gantries rair t wi reemin stout,\\nLang winter nights we than cou d tout\\nIt swack an sicker\\nWhan now there s naething gilps bit scout\\nIn ilka bicker.\\nTheir aquavits, waefu trash,\\nDouf soukit frae potatoe-smash,\\nClunks warsh amo our tripes like wash\\nIn stinkin gutter;\\nInfests our kytes wi muckle fash.\\nLike moss-pot watter.\\nRight baugh, believe it as ye will,\\nLeuks Scotland, taskit like, an dull,\\nFu monie a daumert doited scull,\\nThat erst wis bluff;\\nGangs sleekin roun the ingle stull,\\nAn has nae gluff.\\nHary, gin ye wad grant us maut,\\nRight free o erf on kn3ps to shaw t\\nThen lat the times be ne er sae saut,\\nWe ll a agree^", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0145.jp2"}, "146": {"fulltext": "*34\\nNir sail we think it s onie faut\\nWhatever ye du\\nThis is the subject o the theme,\\nRequest o leeshins that I claim\\nTo line our lang starvation^ wyme\\nWi sterlin whisk\\nNir lat s gang gizzen, fy for shame,\\nWi drouthie tusk\\nWae worth that tod-like clan excise,\\nThat jeuk wi* cunnin crafty guise,\\nThe tae wife s pot they mak their prize,\\nThe tither s maut,\\nDarin, whan whisky^stells they seize,\\nTo ca t a faut.\\nAllowin them to keep their trade,\\nAuld Scotland can be right weel fed,\\nGin maut-tax war a wee thing laid,\\nAn whisky still\\nCou d but get leave to wear her head,\\nAn wurk at will.\\nGeneva trag an burnin brannie,\\nGang slowly owre wi Lawlan Sannie\\nBut set him down fu trig an cannie,\\nWi dram o whisky,\\nThe sweetest dainty s no sae hanny,\\nTo mak im frisky.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0146.jp2"}, "147": {"fulltext": "135\\nShort syne had ye but seen, vow man\\nAt ilk ane s snout a heapit cann,\\nAn L d sic stuff that I shou d bann\\n(Yir servan* hum le),\\nAe glass wis steady if ye can,\\nTwa barla-fummil.\\nWhat comes o* a our kintra plays,\\nOur rantin feasts, an* merry days*\\nOur rovin pins, an wanton keys,\\nOur careless hours\\nThey re vanish t, as upo the lees\\nThe simmer showers.\\nAyont the bink in winter nights,\\nWhan sair day s toil was a at rights,\\nTo chear the driegh an dowie wights,\\nAn mak them frisky,\\nWas t wine, the slock o feckless pights i\\nNa faith, twas whisky I\\nWhan caller Boreas bangs fu sour,\\nWi rattlin hailstanes skytin show r,\\nAn dozen t sun, wi erf-like glow r,\\nTeets owre the knowes i\\nGuid whisky I wad sey thy pow r,\\nTo brace my brows,\\nHail, nappy fraithin on a day\\nWhan Phoebus glints sae brisk in May.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0147.jp2"}, "148": {"fulltext": "Or June whan cockin o the hay,\\nYe synd the wizzen\\nTo youth an tott rin age a stay,\\nAn* a that s gizzen.\\nWhan carin yarks a body sairly,\\nAn gars him start the mornin early,\\nWi stamack clad sometimes fu barely,\\nO cauld kail pottage,\\nA dram o whisky chears them fairly,\\nIn ha or cottage.\\nYe see yirsel whan session sits,\\nAn kintra lairds, an buskie cits,\\nA* gather roun some sumphs, some wits,\\nWha lear exert,\\nDrouthie fu aft the gabber spits,\\nWi scaddit heart.\\nGin they wad pang their gantrys fu\\nO reemin nap, an whisky blue,\\nNae glzzen t thrapples then wad glue\\nTheir gaws thegither i\\nAn we wud thrive, an bat, an grow\\nAmo our heather.\\nDerf be his fa wha Scotland laiks,\\nCurs t be his fate wha gainst her claiks,\\nSair dung be he that bisna maiks,\\nFor Scotland s right", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0148.jp2"}, "149": {"fulltext": "137\\nLat deils his worthless kernel vex\\nIn endless night.\\nThen, Addington, exert ye, man,\\nNor thole our countra s dolefu ban,\\nBut leeshins her, baith pat an pan,\\nAn tak yir risk ay,\\nShe ll fecht for you as lang s she can,\\nAn Highland whisky.\\nThen mith she tune her heart an sing,\\nTill heather* knaps, an hillocks ring,\\nNae mair awa w? tears she d fling\\nHer drone an chanter\\nLat frosty mornins snelly sting,\\nShe d bang the banter.\\nPOSTSCRIPT.\\nI.\\nBy this I m fain to lat ye ken,\\nHow fuddlin bards air* honest men\\nThink muckle o yir mense;\\nAn whare auF Scotland grants her praise.\\nShe never cad mak muckle f raise,\\nBut heart an han s intense\\nAdown to tug young Chatham s core,\\nAn 9 tell the downright truth;\\nS", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0149.jp2"}, "150": {"fulltext": "tS*\\nThen we may hemp for days o* yore*\\nAn ye U get friends a fouth.\\nBe witty, nor skijtty,\\nAy mendi-n fauts an* blunners,\\nSagacious, an* cautious,\\nAn ye ll get ayes in hunners.\\nII.\\nBlest days whan honest sauls an leal,.\\nA join d to guide the public weal,\\nHearts void of guile an fraud\\nThen Britain s yird cud tell a tale,\\nA bent the tide o r wealth to swell,\\nWhile pleasure plenty clad.\\nBut now pernicious vaunts o wier\\nInvolve us near in ruin,\\nWhan ilka mother s son maun spier\\nWha had the cause a-doin.\\nIt maks na, the. fact s na,\\nIn tift fcr dytit sumphs j\\nBut yet, man, the wit, man,,\\nO monie a callan grumphs.\\nIII.\\nA doughty squad o Scotia s race,\\nWi hearts o steel, an brows o brass?\\nWeel trim d in martial order,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0150.jp2"}, "151": {"fulltext": "139\\nHave bounded forrat to the field,\\nAn* die they may, but ne er will yield,\\nWhile Tweeda weets the border.\\nThae lads are soun o lith an* lim,\\nSae dinna thwart their aim\\nThen they may Gallia s braggers trim,\\nAn down their haffits kaim\\nThey re maughtless, they re fraughtless,\\nCompar d to our blue bonnets,\\nOur few tunes are true tunes,\\nAn nae Italian sonnets\\nLINES,\\nWritten on a Blank Leaf of Fergussorfs Poems*\\nfewEET youthful bard, I view thy lines,\\nWhexe ev ry graceful beauty shines,\\nIn simple Scottish strain j\\nBards yet to come shall sound thy praise,\\nAnd in thy fame attune their lays,\\nThe boast of Scotia s plain.\\nS2\\nTo It ly s fona French faid mum\\nBut shou d they e er come here,\\nTo hear cur bagpipe s warlike hum,\\nThey ll their breeks wi fear.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0151.jp2"}, "152": {"fulltext": "Ho\\nThy past ral scenes, where beauty reign?,\\nIn rural numbers vie\\nThy homely muse the rustic tends,\\nAn lifts him up on high.\\nWe hear the gowdspink s shrill-tun d note\\nNor is th industrious bee forgot,\\nHumming about the thorn\\nHere fhepherds lolling at their eafe,\\nThere flow rs prolific scent the breeze,\\nWhere pity strays forlorn.\\nThen live, sweet bard, for well ye ve won\\nThe brightest laurell d bust,\\nWhile Scotia, with a pitying moan,\\nBedews thy sacred dust.\\nSpoken to a Toung Ladv about to be married to an\\neld ill-favoured Bachelor.\\njl our will s a law, yet what s the haste\\nYour years are few to scool at i\\nAn emblem of a pigeon you,\\nS~tt represents an owlet.\\nELEGY ON SAUTIE\\nHear, Scotland braid, owre muir an dale\\nTo Buchan chiefly is my tale,\\nSee page 39..", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0152.jp2"}, "153": {"fulltext": "i4i\\nMaist feck o you may weep an wail,\\nAn hing your head\\nAn grunt, an graae, an skriek, an squile,\\nAul Sautie s dead\\nOch-hon my win is nearhan gane,\\nWi mony a sob an dronnin mane,\\nFell death has left nae ane ahin\\nWorth mournin weed,\\nCompar d to him that s paid the kain,\\nAn now lies dead,\\nO death thou deadly fae to a 5 man,\\nHow durst thou out thy whittle draw, man,\\nAn pierce aul Onzie s reestir gaumon,\\nWi sic a speed\\nNow ilk ane cries, Black be yir fa man*\\nAul Sautie s dead.\\nWaes me for Buchan, herriet howe\\nGrave lesson t sage ye ance did stowe\\nWhan bless d wi him, ye thrave, an grew 3\\nAn chew yir queed 3\\nBut wiliawackits for ye now,\\nAul Sautie s dead\\nThat day be mourn d that saw him riggin\\nHis great conjurin perry wig on\\nHe through the glen gaed canty swiggin*\\nAs trim s a bead", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0153.jp2"}, "154": {"fulltext": "H2\\nI Death stapit s win for a our priggin,\\nWha now lies dead.\\nYe witches, warlocks, fairies, fien s\\nThat squalloch owre the murky greens,\\nDaft fungin fiery *p eats, an stanes,\\nWi fuzzy gleed 5\\nSing out yir hellish unkfcnt teens,\\nYir en my s dead\\nOn onie cairn now ye may lig,\\nOr dance auld Hornie s fav rite gig,\\nJlin maukin-like on onie rig,\\nWi careless speed j\\nSin Sautie s great soothsayin wig,\\nAn him lies dead.\\nO mourn him a infestit fock,\\nHe ever wis yir paul an rock,\\nFrae witches, warlocks, an sic trock,\\nThat en mies dread\\nTheir threats to him war but a mock,\\nAn yet he s dead.\\nWhan warlocks rant wi bleezin cowes,\\nOn Fairie knaps, an Fairie knowes,\\nWiiile derf auld Brookie s bone-fire lowes,\\nWi rampin gleed\\nWbaffl guard us 7 their haunted howes,\\nSin Sautie s dead", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0154.jp2"}, "155": {"fulltext": "143\\nIn kirk-yard drear they may gallant,\\nAn mak his turf their fav rite haunt,\\nWithout a dread o him to cant,\\nO wicked deed\\nLike Alloway s mad rairin rant\\nOn Sautie dead\\nO mourn this loss which we deplore.\\nYe sailors that frequent our shore\\nYe fish-carles never lift an oar,\\nIn codlin greed\\nBut yelp wi monie a dowie roar,\\nFor Sautie dead.\\nAn 5 mourn wi me, ye tipplin Iouns,\\nThat tout the C3p wi cantie roun s,\\nFor barkless ye may claw yir crowns^\\nWhan ye re misled,\\nAn* nae redress for siccan oons.\\nSin Sautie s dead.\\nIn unkent wardle whare he be,\\nBe t caller stank^ or scaddin bree,\\nBe t dungeon mark, or house o glee,\\nNae wight can read j\\nSeme say he s weel, I sayYs a lie.\\nIf he be dead.\\nVide Eurns s Tam o Shanter-", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0155.jp2"}, "156": {"fulltext": "144\\nEPITAPH.\\nAnent this bust lies Sautie s dust,\\nTo tell his fate I swither\\nBut yet, tis true, gie him his due,\\nAuld N an him s thegither.\\nHout, stop, my frierr, an fling yir een,\\nTo yon ascendin smeek\\nYe ll spy a snout as black as soot\\nTis him as sure s a leek.\\nPER CONTRA.\\nOur information s blinkk s sairiy,\\nThat gar t us greet an girn sae early,\\nNew-fangleness hath no been sparely,\\nHer flight riiFs givin\\nOur loss is sax times doubi t. fairly,\\nThe wretch is livin.\\nEpigram on the Death of a NoT\u00c2\u00a3D Lawyer.\\nJ. hey tell me, Jock, sin ye re awa\\nYir fate is yon black vout\\nYe wis weel reez t for kittle law,\\nNow law auld Nickol out.\\nBut gin ye lit him kick the ba\\nOr grip yir slee intention,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0156.jp2"}, "157": {"fulltext": "C H5\\nYe ll recollect, ye canna ca*\\nFor week, nir day s suspension.\\nHIS ANSWER to the EPIGRAM,\\nI bang t on a process right sair to my skaith^\\nThe judical Minos sat Preses,\\nThe jury sat belchin, 2? snug i their graith,\\nI kent they were deils by their faces.\\nThe sentence was derf, so back I was hurl d.\\nMy fate to revoke there s no balsam j\\nTis death ev ra day to my auld natal world,\\nBut I ll own that the law here s mair halesomec\\nT GLOSSARY.\\nv", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0157.jp2"}, "158": {"fulltext": "GLOSSARY.\\nJ. HE preceding Poems may be well enough under-\\nstood by a North-Country Reader but, for the\\nsake \u00c2\u00a9f those who are unacquainted with the dialect,\\nthe words are arranged under proper heads, most\\npeculiar to it and some which differ in meaning,\\n(although similar in pronunciation), from the Scath-\\nCountry Dialect, It is therefore prefumed, after\\nconsulting this arrangement, the most distant Reader\\nwill be at no loss to understand the Poetry.\\nAbeen, above\\nAbeeze, to abuse\\nAdie, abbreviation of Adam-\\nson\\nAhin% behind\\nAike, to yearn\\nAimers, hot ashes\\nAnent, opposite\\nAneugh, enough\\nAren% are not\\nArchie, abbreviation of\\nArchibald\\nAss-dowie, dull, like an\\nass\\nAition, origin\\nAtwiesh, between 5 an\\ntwieibH) between it\\nItai", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0158.jp2"}, "159": {"fulltext": "H7\\nB\\nBadder, idle talk, abuse\\nBinner, to run precipitate,\\nto make a noise\\nBliffert, a storm, a hurri-\\ncane\\nBlouter, a blast of wind\\nBlunk, a dull lifeless per-\\nson\\nBlyter t, besmeared\\nBob, one of the devil s\\nnames\\nBoyne, a district in Aber-\\ndeenshire\\nBree, broth, liquid, water\\nBrownie-bae, an imagina-\\nry being\\nBojutlm, a burnt rnoor\\nBuchan, a district in Aber\\ndeenshire\\nBum, the breech\\nBunkert, a bunker\\nBuskie, mackaronish\\nCorfu, thwarting, cross-\\ning\\nCreuk, a crook, a corner\\nCroot, to croak\\nCrup, to crop\\nCutchack, a small blazing\\nfire\\nD\\nDauk, dark, murky dank-\\nest, murkiest\\nDerf, strong, unmerciful\\nderfly, strongly, unmer-\\ncifully\\nDird, a fall, a severe stroke\\nDouf, dull, lifeles\\nBoverak, a river in Banff-\\nshire\\nDroch, a dwarf\\nDrush, dross, refuse, scum\\nDumph, dull, insipid\\nDyte, to w T alk crazily 5 dy~\\ntin, walking crazily\\nDytit, stupid, hebitated-\\nCatchie, merry, jocund\\nChackart, a small bird, a\\nchatterer\\nChackit, chequered, span-\\nled\\nCheekie, full of cunning\\nClaik, Billingsgate\\nClypin, falling\\nCodroch, uncouth, vulgar\\nCorse, to cross, to thwart\\nEeses, uses, articles\\nErf, timid\\nEugie, a river in Buchan\\nEv ra, every\\nExast, did exist\\nFastren s\\nEven\\nF\\nE en,\\nFasten\\nT 2", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0159.jp2"}, "160": {"fulltext": "148\\nFierd, ford\\nFlaff, to blow intermittent-\\nly j gffin, blowing in-\\ntermittently\\nFlait, did flit\\nFlaught-braid, precipitate\\nFlaughtin, flying or run-\\nning quickly\\nFleuk, a flounder\\nFlichteriff, unsteady, fickle,\\nchangeable\\nFliep, a good-for-nothing\\nfellow\\nFlistin, swelling with an-\\nger\\nFlught, hurry, fuss\\nFlypin, looking abashedly\\nFoy, a convivial drink and\\ndance at farewell- taking\\nFudder, an extraordinary\\nhaste\\nFudd rin, running or flying\\nprecipitately\\nFung, to thrust 7 fung tn^\\nthrusting\\nGadder, to gather\\nGabjoch, a district in A-\\nberdeenshire\\nGiggle, brisk, lively\\nGirse, grass\\nGilpirr, spurting, jerking,\\nas w^ter\\nGlamack, a grasp, a hold\\nGiant, smiled, looked gay\\nGled, a bird of prey, the\\nGoshawk\\nGlum, to gloom\\nGlumpin, glooming\\nGordlins, young nestlings\\nGoup, to stare\\nGrun t, ground\\nGrun t, grounded\\nGy, scene, show\\nGype, a fool gypit, fool-\\nish, gypitness, foolishness\\nGytlin, belonging to the\\nfields, rural\\nH\\nHabber, to grin as a dog\\nto faulter in speech\\nHaukit, having a white\\nface\\nHaumerin, doing any thing\\ncarelessly\\nHeePt, took to heels\\nHief, hoof\\nHerse, hoarse\\nHilt, a handle\\nHingle, to loiter y htnglin,\\nloitering\\nHotchie, a general name\\nfor puddings\\nHyte, to walk crazily\\nIntull, into\\nIzle, a hot cinder", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0160.jp2"}, "161": {"fulltext": "H9\\nJag, fatigue\\nJerk, a stroke\\nJeuk, to stoop Jeufon,\\nstooping 7 jeuiit, stooped\\nJirken, a pocket\\nJunnied, hurried, justled\\nK\\nKnap, a hillock, to strike\\nKnappit, lashed, knoited\\nKnief, brisk, lively j knief-\\nly, briskly\\nLairin, sinking, or jaded\\nwith care, c.\\nLaivin, lifting\\nLeef, the palm of the\\nhand\\nLeeshins, licence\\nLeggit, did run\\nLig, to lie, to fall behind\\nirggin, lying, falling be-\\nhind\\nLowrie, the fox\\nM\\nMad-leed, mad strain\\nMaik, match, peer y maik-\\nless, matchless\\nTMak, a district in Aber-\\ndeenshire\\nMauken-hag, a witch in\\nthe likeness of a hare\\nMellie, abbreviation of A-\\nmelia\\nMith, might\\nMormond, a noted moun-\\ntain in Buchan\\nn\\nNain, own\\nNear-gawin, xvorldly, ea-\\nger on amassing wealth\\nNeuk, a nook, a corner\\nO\\nOon, wound\\nOnzie, abbreviation of An-\\ndrew\\nPaul, a hold, a leaning-\\nplace\\nPaveein, capering\\nPellat, a sheep s skin with\\nthe wool\\nPit, put\\nPiz, pease\\nPlype, a fall\\nCL\\nQuesck, quey\\nQueed. the cud", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0161.jp2"}, "162": {"fulltext": "C 150\\nR\\nRackart, a severe stroke\\nRagglish, rough, boiste-\\nrous\\nRee, half-drunk, wild\\nReid, red\\nReed-cap t, having red\\ncaps\\nReed-mad, distracted\\nReesk, ground full of\\ntough-rooted weeds,\\nsomething like rushes\\nReeskie, full of reesk\\nReestit, dried, roosted\\nReeve, bursted\\nReeze or roose, to prarise 5\\nreez^t, praised\\nRefeeze, to refu3e\\nReuk, a crow, a rook\\nRiep, a slovenly-dressed\\nRink, to rattle rlnkit rat-\\ntled, rink m\\\\ rattling\\nSain t, saved\\nSaur, taste\\nSaw, to sow shewe, did\\nsow\\nScabble, to scold scahlu-\\nlin, scolding\\nScaup, the head, the skull\\nSellrif, market-like, apt to\\nsell\\nShankin, walking smartly\\nShaums, the legs\\nSheen, shoes\\nSheuk, did shake\\nShull, a shoal\\nShullie, diminutive of shull\\nSfen, soon\\nSieth, truth, a petty oath\\nSittie, sooty\\nSkellat, an imaginary spi-\\nrit\\nSkinks, joints of beef, c.\\nSklytes, good-for-nothings\\nSkyte, a mischance\\nSlieth, an awkward fellow,\\nan idiot\\nSiieth-like, idiot- like, sot-\\ntish\\nSmick, a shot, a tincture\\nSnaw-flaighs, winter birds,\\na genus of Orkney\\nSnib, a smart stroke\\nSnytin, walking cfazily\\nSookit, drained, sucked\\nSpang, a leap\\nSpank, to spang or leap\\nSpink, the Gold-^nch\\nSpraint, to run forward\\nSqualloch, to scream\\nSquile, to skreech\\nSteeking, stitch ng\\nStottit, staggered, reeled\\nStrummin, glooming, look-\\ning sour\\nStrype, z rivulet\\nStuddie-stoick, astonished\\nSumph, a dull fellow, a\\nperson of mean demean-\\nour", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0162.jp2"}, "163": {"fulltext": "i5i\\nSwargh, a convention of\\nindividuals\\nSweeng, to swing\\nTeal, a busy body, a mean\\nfellow\\nTeem, empty\\nTeen, tune\\nTeep, a ram\\nTiawe, to amble Uw^ did\\ntiatue\\nTen an tenant\\nThackless, without thatch\\nThilse, else\\nThramml t, winded, reeled\\nTreeshin, courting\\nTurse, to walk\\nTwiesh, between\\nTytin, tottering\\nU\\nUp-mak, composition\\nV\\nVertie, early\\nVout, vault\\nVrack, wreck\\nVrang, wrong\\nW\\nWardle, world\\nWarsh, inclining to water\\nWeeack, a scream\\nWees t, hebitated\\nWhilk, which\\nWhisk, to sweep j whhkit,\\nsweeped\\nWiggie, one of the many\\nnames of the devil\\nWitters, the teeth\\nWizzen, the weasand\\nWizzen t, hyde-hound,\\nshrunk\\nWyle, to pick, the choice\\nWyme, the belly\\nWyte, truth, a petty oath j\\nblame\\nWyve, to weave\\nYallach, a loud scream\\nYaltie, slowly yaltU take\\nleisure scop\\nYampher, a dog\\nYark, to yerk, to lash\\nyarkitiy yerking 3 yarklt^\\nyerked\\nYeghin, groaning\\nYeel, barren\\nYelp, to roar yelpin roar*\\ning yelptt, roared\\nYir, your\\nYoufT, to strike\\nFINIS.\\nSDIKBUUGH; ?M*TgD BY J. PXLLANS S0N3 iAWHMARKET*", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0163.jp2"}, "164": {"fulltext": "m", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0164.jp2"}, "165": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nVerses on Winter. Dec. i8co, i\\nOn the Dtath of the late Rev. Dr. D****n of\\nG****n, -6\\nElegy on the Death of G**** L*****y, who pe-\\nriled in the fnow 1794, 10\\nTo Adverfity, 15\\nThe Vanity of Human Wifhes, 16\\nThe Complaint, addrefTed to Mr. J**** Q*****^\\nWill and Tarn, a Paftoral on the Death of Robert\\nBurns, 24\\nTo a Dominie, on hearing from him that he^was\\ngone to Sea. March I o. 1801, 35\\nAddrefs to the Representatives of the People, on\\ntheir being called to Parliament (Nov. 11. i8cq,J\\nto try and do fomet.hing anent the dearnefs o the\\nMeal, 38\\nTo T*** R*****, on receiving a fummons (at\\nhis inftance) before the Juftice-Court at L*****, 43\\nFrom T***** r*****^ j n an fwer to the foregoing, 4.7\\nEpigram on the foregoing, 49\\nLord Malmefbury s Return from Lifle, 50", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0165.jp2"}, "166": {"fulltext": "CONTENTS.\\nPage\\nNelfon s Viftory, -52\\nOn the Departure of the Year 1800, 55\\nThe Eagle Troop of Berwickfhire, a Song, 60\\nEpigram, 64\\nThe Plagues o Riches, 65\\nRobin s Lament for the Death of his favourite Bick\\nWhifkey, 72\\nTo W****** B**** jr***#** m ~g\\nTo T***** 82\\nEpiftlc from T***** R*****, 86\\nThe Lovelefs Lafs s Soliloquy, a Song, 89\\nTo Mr. W****** M*********, on his Marriage,\\na Song, 9 2\\nSong, 95\\nSong, 97\\nFrom T***** R*****, 99\\nTo Mr. T***** R*****, in anfwer to the forego-\\ning, i\u00c2\u00b02\\nTo j#**\u00c2\u00bb p*** 106\\nOn the Death of Paul the Magnanimous, 113\\nOn the Death of General Sir Ralph Abercrombie, 116", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0166.jp2"}, "167": {"fulltext": "POEMS,\\nMOSTLY IN THE\\nSCOTTISH DIALECT.\\nverses on winter\u00e2\u0080\u0094Dec. iSoo.\\nStern Boreas biafis do keenly blow\\nStript of their foliage Hand the trees\\nBehold the angry drift and fnow,\\nBorne on the cold and chilling breeze.\\nThe lark no more doth mount on high,\\nHer fweet and cheerful notes to raife\\nNo more the eager reapers ply\\nBefore the mailer s anxious gaze*\\nThe God of day withholds his beams,\\nAnd now unwillingly fends forth\\nA", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0167.jp2"}, "168": {"fulltext": "2\\nHis fcanty, intermitting gleams\\nOn frozen regions of the North.\\nThe plumy choir now from the blaft\\nSeek fhelter neath the naked thorn\\nHow much unlike the time that s pall\\nThey joyful ufher d in each morn.\\nNow, tir d of mufic and of love,\\nThey all forfake the lonely fpray\\nInftindive fome their courfe do move,\\nTo fweeter climes, and brighter day.\\nPoor peafants, too, their labour clofe,\\n(Ah me their grievous fate I mourn j)\\nIn their lonexots they feek repofe,\\nWhich almoft bend beneath the ftorm.\\nSad fons of forrow born to languifli\\nBeneath Misfortune s dreary fhade\\nYe great behold their cup of anguifli\\nXook on their hard-earn d bitter bread.\\nWhen fparkling wine jour minds doth cheer,\\nAnd when you fhare the rich repaft,\\nCommiferate their fate, who bear\\nFor you the burden and the blaft.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0168.jp2"}, "169": {"fulltext": "3 1\\nThey who in opulence carol,\\nFeel little of rude Winter s reign,\\nWhile laughing o er the flowing bowl,\\nAll Famine s threats to them are vain,\\nYet thoufands are compell d to ply,\\nTo weather out the Winter s blaft,\\nYon ftarting tear in s eye\\nBefpeaks a mind with woe o ercaft.\\nYet why this gloom this drooping down\\nThough Froft and Famine, hand in hand,\\nAnnouncing Heaven s vengeful frown,\\nDo threaten Scotia s guilty land\\nLet mankind but to mankind prove\\nMore friendly, and to others fhow\\nAffectionate and unfeign d love,\\nTwould-fmooth the wrinkl d brow of woe.\\nAs fawning zephyrs liquify\\nThe froft-congealed lakes and ilreams,^\\nJuft fo the minds which frozen lie,\\nAre melted by Love s cheering gleamsu\\nAs fad and filent, flruck with fear,\\nThe Poet fat, to grief refign d,\\nAij", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0169.jp2"}, "170": {"fulltext": "I 4\\nAnd while down Hole the trickling tear,\\nThefe thoughts flow wander d o er his mind\\nJ Tis virtue that can only charm,\\nIn Winter s hard and gloomy hour,\\nThe rigour of the blaft difarm,\\nAnd calmly fmile beneath its pow r.\\nu Sweet Mufic yet may wake the wood,\\nAnd rapture may her firings employ\\nThe laughing vales may fing aloud,\\nThe hills may clap their hands for joy.\\nLet Virtue then ward off the blaft\\nReturning Spring our minds may cheer;\\nThe Winter will not always laft,\\nSo let us mark the rolling year.\\nThe furrow d brow of Age draws on,\\nAnd Winter foon fhall feize on Man,\\nWhen nought this earthly ftage upon,\\nNcr Love nor Mufic pleafe him can.\\nLet trifling mortals then beware,\\nNor vainly fquander time away\\nA youth well fpent will eafe their care,\\nWhen eyes are dim, and hairs are grey.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0170.jp2"}, "171": {"fulltext": "5 J\\nFor all muft, at no diftant date,\\nMix with the duft from whence they came;\\nThe Bard no friend to mourn his fate,\\nilone to record his name,\\nA 11!", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0171.jp2"}, "172": {"fulltext": "r 6\\nON THE\\nDEATH OF THE LATE REV. MR. D****N\\nOF G****N.\\nWell knew the poor his houfe, for from his doqr\\nNone e er return d but blefs d his bounteous ftore\\nTheir fad complaints he heard Ugh d when they grievM,\\nAnd fcarce he heard them till his hand reliev d.\\nBelov d he liv d but nought exempts from death*\\nWILSON*\\nGreat men of art, tho fkilPd in vaft defign,\\nCan t for an hour protract precarious breath,\\nNor the fweet followers of the tuneful Nine\\nSoothe with their melody infatiate Death.\\nYea, kings may (hut their palace* mafly gate,\\nAnd plant their arm d thoufands round\\nand round,\\nYet ev n there th unerring hand of Fate\\nCan ftrike her deftin d vi ims to the\\nground,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0172.jp2"}, "173": {"fulltext": "7\\nMan s life, in this vain tranfitory vale,\\nLike fhort-liv d taper, fheds its feeble ray\\nAwhile it fhines\u00e2\u0080\u0094 tis gone-- tis as a tale,\\nLike morning s mift it vaniflieth away.\\nThis D****q taught, ev n near his late ft\\nbreath,\\nYet, ah! how little did the preacher know\\nThat he fo foon mufl pafs the vale of death,\\nTo fhare the fruit of all his works below.\\nCan ye who heard him make his laft difplay,\\nAnd tell how fwift the gliding moments fly,\\nAllow to reach its goal one palling day,\\nThout faying, ere to-morrow I may die?\\nWhen he announc d this ferious truth to you.\\nHow near himfelf had he his circuit run\\nSo near, indeed, he figh d his laft adieu,\\nNear with the fetting of that fame day s\\nfun,\\nYe widow d objects of his paftoral care\\nYe poor whofe mis ries he did oft allay I\\nYou furely can t withhold a grateful tear\\nFor him who Heav n-ward led you on\\nyour way.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0173.jp2"}, "174": {"fulltext": "8\\nYou can t I faw it rolling fill your eyes,\\nWhenM****y told the fad funereal tale\\nEv n he declar d he met with no furprife,\\nTo fee you with fucfr feeling hearts be-\\nwail\\nWhat folemn filence hung ppan the mind,\\nTo hear him in pathetic accents tell,\\nHow he was juft, benevolent, and kind\\nAnd by how hard a fate the Chriftian\\nfell.\\nGold now his heart, which heav d the feeling\\nThofe lips on which perfuafive language\\nhung,\\nNow in the gloomy noifome grave do lie\\nQnearthftisnameuhblafted by foul tongue.\\nAh fled for ever from this fcene of woe\\n(What piety what learning and what\\nzeal\\nHe who th- Sacred Truth to men did {how,\\nThat ev n the hardcft atheiffs heart might\\nfeel", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0174.jp2"}, "175": {"fulltext": "9 3\\nHere lies the man the poor man well\\nmay fay,\\nWho many of my fufferings reliev d\\nWho fiird my mouth who taught me\\n11 how to pray\\nReprov d my faults and at my errors\\ngriev d.\\nFor mourning all his flock have ample fcope,\\nYet grief reprefs\u00e2\u0080\u0094 for though the green-\\ngrafs fod\\nHis body covers, you may reft in hope\\nHis better part s united to his God.\\nThen ceafe thofe tears why thus inceflant\\nflow\\nBe ftill thofe murmurs to the bleeding\\nheart\\nHis peaceful fhade foft wbifpers, Wait\\nthe blow,\\n11 We foon fhall meet again ne er more to\\npart.\\nAnd can the world s empty treafures bring\\nSuch joy to death-divided friends as this\\nThat foon they fhall be with the Lord their\\nKing,\\nAnd reign together in the realms of blifs.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0175.jp2"}, "176": {"fulltext": "io\\nELEGY ON THE DEATH OF G**** L*****Y,\\nWho perijhed in the Snow, 1794.\\nA ye wha bafk in Fortune s blink,\\nOr toil in gatherin in the clink,\\nTo raft or rot i kift-or bink,\\nI pray tak head\\nA Billie s gi en ye a a jink,\\nAuld L***** s dead.\\nAn monie a ane is made to wonder\\nHow G****** e er to death ftrack under\\nTwas gainft his will nae doubt, but lounder\\nOwre his grey head\\nCame Fate s lang rung, whilk made him\\nfounder,\\nAye fell d him dead/\\nAlthough he was nae man o wier,\\nHe had the nack o gath iin gear,\\nYet he ne er liv d on coftly cheer\\nBare brofe an bread", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0176.jp2"}, "177": {"fulltext": "II\\nHae flapp d his mou for mony a year,\\nBut now he s dead.\\nThat dolefu day, in whilk the lift\\nSent down fie fhow rs o fnaw an drift,\\nTo fmuir his fheep he was fae glift,\\nHe ran wi fpeed\\nTo fave their lives ah dreadfu fhift,\\nIt was his dead.\\nHe howk d an toil d the hale day o er,\\nHogs, ewes, and gimmers, monie a fcore,\\nFrae neath the wreaths while drift, like\\nftoure,\\nFlew round his head.\\nHe s weather d out monie a winter s fhow r,\\nBut now he s dead.\\nO wae be to yon filthy cleugh,\\nThat lang-ken d curfed Corbie-Heugh,\\nWhare wind and ftorm, wi angry fugh,\\nAn bitter fpeed,\\nHae mony a hunder fheep laid leugh,\\nCauld, ftifF, and dead*\\n*Twas there that day that G****** met\\nWi unco lofs himfel forfett", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0177.jp2"}, "178": {"fulltext": "12\\nYet gin the gloamin aff he fet,\\nHame owre wi fpeed\\nBut, waefu night Fll ne er forget\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nIt was his dead.\\nThe bluft rin winds did rife fae high,\\nAttendit wi thick drift forby\\nSome fearfu afpedts i the Iky,\\nBright flafhin gleed\\nPoor G****** i the fields did lie,\\nWhilk was his dead.\\nNow rich an poor, an a may mourn,\\nAn drap a tear owre G****** s urn,\\nSince he nae mair will here fojourn\\nFor aft in need\\nHe did fouk mony a generous turn,\\nThough now he s dead.\\nIn frolics little gear he fpent,\\nYet if a chiel was pinch d wi s rent,\\nAn ofFer d G****** fax per cent.\\nThout fear or dread\\nHe onie fum wad freely lent\\nBut now he s dead.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0178.jp2"}, "179": {"fulltext": "13 3\\nTho whiles by fiends an witches chas d,\\nHis ain dead Tittie s glowrin ghaift,\\nThe de il himfel he s fometimes fac d,\\nAn wagg d his head,\\nAn fent him affto H in hafte,\\nBut now he s dead.\\nTo pride he ne er had great defire,\\nContentit ay in hame attire,\\nAn cou d hae liv d e en in a byre,\\nHad there been need,\\nTho richer far than fome look d higher,\\nBut now he s dead.\\nTis faid he lately did incline\\nTo tafte the Hymeneal vine,\\nTho he a nymph cou d never fin\\nWha w r ifh d him fpeed*\\nYet he has left fome to repine\\nNow that he s dead.\\nBut tho he s gane an left us a\\nHe had a name without a flaw,\\nHe ne er was ken d to haud or draw,\\nWi thievifh greed\\nAn s mouldy gowd gars fome gang bra\\nWhan he is dead.\\nB", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0179.jp2"}, "180": {"fulltext": "C 14\\nFor, carefu chiel he grew fae fond o t,\\nThat in a Haly Book he bound it\\nBut now, waes me his heirs hae found it\\nAn gi en t a fcreed\\nIf G****** kent how they expound it\\nBut\u00e2\u0080\u0094 G****** s dead.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0180.jp2"}, "181": {"fulltext": "C 15\\nTO ADVERSITY.\\nWhen to my cot, corrective Fair,\\nHigh Heav n thy hand doth fend,\\nLet not my foul fink in defpair,\\nBut with fubmiffion bend.\\nThough woe fucceed to woe, I ll truft\\nThe faithfulnefs of God\\nWhat he decrees is right and juft,\\nThen let me kifs the rod.\\nHe who can beft my faults perceive,\\nIs fitteft to chaftife\\nAnd why fhould mortals ever grieve,\\nFor he is great and wife.\\nThen till life s latelt fand is run,\\nO teach me, Pow 7 r Divine\\nTo fay, My God, thy will be done,\\nDifpofe of me and mine.\\nB ii", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0181.jp2"}, "182": {"fulltext": "16\\nTHE VANITY OF HUMAN WISHES.\\nWere my Vain wifh to crown my choice,\\nThe place would be, in which I d dwell,\\nBeyond the reach of public noife,\\nIn fome fequefter d lonely cell.\\nIn fuch a place, my life Fd fpend\\nIn contemplation night and day,\\nI could enjoy my book and friend\\nBetter in this than any way.\\nHad Heav n decreed this for my lot,\\nI d afk d no ftately pompous dome\\nBut cheerful in my turf-clad cot,\\nI could have boafted of my home.\\nI d then beheld the plants and flow rs\\nIn all their native beauty drefs d,\\nAnd could have fpent my peaceful hours\\nLike one who was completely blefs d,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0182.jp2"}, "183": {"fulltext": "i7 3\\nBut, ah vain wifh doth God beftow\\nSuch bleffingsy^/? to pleafe mankind?\\nThen with content I ll wander through\\nThe path of woe for me defign d.\\nHenceforth I ll upward caft mine eyes\\nWhen grace and ftrength to me are giv n 3\\nI ll feek true blifs beyond the Ikies,\\nThe only fare and lading Heav n.\\n3 HI", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0183.jp2"}, "184": {"fulltext": "i8 1\\nTHE COMPLAINT:\\nADDRESSED TO\\nMR. J**** q*##\u00c2\u00ab g*##*###***# a\\nWhen fmiling fortune fpreads her golden ray,\\nAll crowd around to flatter and obey\\nBut when (he thunders from an angry iky,\\nOur friends, our flatterers, and lovers fly.\\nMifs A. W\\nThis evening I the freedom take\\nTo write, auldfrien\\\\ to you;\\nI m forry, lad, that for my fake\\nYe e er (hould prov d untrue.\\nYe ance were kind but yet whatreck,\\nNow whan Fm forc d to bow\\nBeneath Misfortune s ponderous ftraik,\\nI m lookit on by you\\nAfklent this day,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0184.jp2"}, "185": {"fulltext": "L 19\\nThis ficker truth I own I ne er\\nCou d merit your attention,\\nMy lot bein in a laigher fphere\\nThan your s a poor prevention.\\nYet, trowth I think tis unco queer,\\nAn wordy reprehenfion,\\nOur correfpondenee, ance fae dear,\\nHas been upo declenfion\\nThis monie a day.\\nO curfe upo that waefu day\\nMisfortune op d her jaws,\\nAn foufe upon me like a prey\\nShe perch d wi fharpen d claws\\nFor now my friends are turn d away,\\n(O er weel I ken the caufe),\\nAn fome right tauntin ly do fay,\\nHe weel deferves the taws\\nTo s back this day,\\nHypocrify does clap my crown\\nWhan face to face fhe fees me,\\nBut hint my back fhe rins me down\\nAnd curfedly does teaze me.\\nThere s fome I am in conference boun\\nTo fay hae pow r to fqueeze me,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0185.jp2"}, "186": {"fulltext": "20\\nBut a real frier? will ne er difcwn,\\nAlthough he canna eafe me\\nO grief this day.\\nE en nionie a ane, wha fude na fafn\\nWi me or mine at ay\\nAgainft me loofe their foul- mouth d clafh\\nCaufe my back s at the wa\\nThey re but a fet o meddlin trafh,\\nThough now fae croufe they craw\\nYet owre their credit and their cafh\\nThey ll aiblins get a fa\\nLike me fome day.\\nGainft you I dinna mean to throw\\nOut onie four reflection,\\nNor do I fay you re turn d my foe,\\nBecaufe of my dejedion\\nTor fure, gif I cou d mak a (how,\\nAn powther for ele ion,\\nThough ye had faxty miles to go,\\nYe wad hae fma objedion\\nTo vote that day.\\nO, happy three times happy they\\nWha walk in Virtue s road,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0186.jp2"}, "187": {"fulltext": "21\\nAn never never gang aftray,\\nNor (tumble owre a clod,\\nBut upright ay in heart an way,\\nDo never feel the load\\nO vile reproach, I m doom d to hae\\nPour d on me like a flood\\nThis luckiefs. day.\\nAn naething left now to protedt\\nMe frae fie wicked thrall,\\nEv n worthy S*********** s kind refpect\\nI ve forfeited withal\\nMy friend, my patron, will negle dt\\nHis foririer kindnefs all\\nThere flicks a thorn which fore does prick\\nMy agonizing faul\\nWi pain this day.\\nIt grieves me fair, baith ear an late,\\nTo think that ever I\\nShou d have caus d lie a fell debate^\\nAn rais d fie hue and cry\\nBut for myfel to vindicate\\nIs w T hat I need na try,\\nFor that wad only break my pate,\\nI might in limbo lie\\nFor t monie a day.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0187.jp2"}, "188": {"fulltext": "22\\nMay Fortune fmile on you, auld friend,\\nMay rowth o blifs befa ye,\\nLet me be hauntit by a fiend\\nGif I mean to mifca ye\\nYe ance was friendly an fu kind,\\nThat s a I wifh d to fhaw ye,\\nFor fegs I wad na hae it meant\\nThat I m difpos d to blaw ye\\nO er heigh this day.\\nTrue, ye hae fervants at your ca^\\nCan flatter an can fyke,\\nBut that s nae merit J**** at a\\nGreat cuifs hae had the like\\nAn fude ye ever chance to fa\\nAn forc d to ditch or dike,\\nTo you nae mair refpeft they ll fhaw,\\nThan I do to my tyke,\\nI trow that day.\\nFor mark mankind, an ye will fee\\nThis truth will always ftand,\\nThat when a man needs nae fupplie\\nIlk ane hauds out his hand\\nBat if his matters gang aglee,\\nAn he their help demand,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0188.jp2"}, "189": {"fulltext": "*3\\nThey pafs, or tofs their heads fae hie,\\nThey dinna underftand\\nHis cafe that day,\\nWhat though a chiel fude drive a cart,\\nOr handle fpade an* fhool,\\nAn never lear nae fickle art,\\nOr ufe nae kittle tool,\\nYet if there s wifdom in his heart,\\nHe Hill may ad by rule,\\nAlthough tis faid, Tis Wifdom s part\\nSometimes to play the fool\\nSae what ll ye fay?\\nBut now as I thir lines maun clofe,\\nI hope ye il no neglect\\nSome funny fubjecl to compofe\\nAs Clio may direct\\nAn be it owther verfe or profe,\\nOr great or little feck,\\nMay ne er a fnuff approach my nofe\\nIf it meet na refpecl\\nFrae me that day,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0189.jp2"}, "190": {"fulltext": "C 24\\nWILL AND TAM:\\nA PASTORAL\\nON THE\\nDEATH OF ROBERT BURNS.\\nWho can grieve too much what time can end\\nOur mourning for fo dear a friend\\nTwas ae day, wearin yont the afternoon,\\nIn that fweet month fucceeds the month o 9\\nJune\\nA blythefome day it was as blythe cou d be,\\nA Nature s beauties gratified the e e\\nThe fields were blooming fweet the burdies\\nfang;\\nThe cheerfu fhepherds pip d the echoes\\nrung\\nThe pow r o Mufic feem d ilk thing to cheer,\\nAne might maift fay the rocks were fore d\\nto hear.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0190.jp2"}, "191": {"fulltext": "25 3\\nEv n Phoebus loiter d, happy as the lave,\\nNor feem d in hafte to plunge aneath the\\nwave,\\nWhan Will clapp d down ayont the weel-\\nbuilt cairn,\\nHis favourite feat fin he was juft a bairn.\\nSome fangs he d barrow d frae his neebour\\nTammas,\\nWhilk he had hecht to gie him back by\\nLammas\\nTo croon them over was the ftirrah s care,\\nTill a his flock had dandert wha kens\\nwhere. r\\nHe pouch d his treafure clam the neebour-\\nin height,\\nDifpach d his tyke, wha foon put a things\\nright.\\nBut while he glow r r d around him frae the\\nknowe,\\nWha faw he but his cronie i the howe,\\nIn plaintive pofiure, makin fie a mane\\nAs might hae rent the heart o a whunftane;\\nHe ferlied muckle what cou d ail the chiel,\\nWha look d as doufe as gif he d feen the\\nde il", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0191.jp2"}, "192": {"fulltext": "26\\nHe totter d down to fee what was the matter,\\nAn thus, wi a forc d fmile, began the clat-\\nter\\nWill.\\nGtrid e en t ye, Tam\u00e2\u0080\u0094 Lofli man what males\\nye fae\\nI never faw ye wear a look fae wae\\nYour merry countenance, whilk wont to\\ncheer\\nA dowie faul, haff flrikes my mind wi fear.\\nImpart the caufe hafte,TAMMAS, gie relief,\\nIVe fhar d your joy, I ll alfo fhare your grief;\\nHas ony o your fheep misfortune met\\nOr has the wylie tod upo them fet\\nSay has your dawtit lamb, ye fae refpeel,\\nBeen worried, or has t fa n an broke its neck?\\nOr has your dainty Meg this hinder night\\nTurn d dorty t ye an Ihoar d ye wi the\\nflight\\nHas fome wanchancie fit gaen crofs afore ye\\nOr what the muckle forro has come o er ye?\\nTAM.\\nWharefore I m fad ye ll but o er foon hear\\ntell,\\nAn tent me, Willie, ye will mourn yourfel.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0192.jp2"}, "193": {"fulltext": "2 7\\nThinkna I care for onie laffie s fcorn\\nAn lofs o warld s gear were eithly borne\\nAlthough my bonny lamb, o whilk ye tell,\\nHad worried been, or yet had tint itfel\\nTho it to me this raornin had been tauld\\nMy twa guid kye lay elfshot i the fauld\\nTho I o a my kirfel were bereft,\\nAn no ae clute to tread the heather left\\nTho Pegg had flightit me an ta en anither j\\nAye tho thae ills had happen d a thegi-\\nther,\\nThey might be borne, tho they a wee wad\\nding,\\nYet foon I might cheer up my heart an ling,\\nBut now I ll ling nae mair, great, great s the\\nIkaith,\\nCan greater be to me than Burns s death\\nWILL,\\nThan Burns s death his death Is Ro-\\nbin dead?\\nO, Tammas, Tammas, that is news indeed\\nMang a our canty chiels he was the chief,\\nI canna wyte my neebor for his grief;\\nGreat are the forrows fame are doom d to dree,\\nBut what a lade is this on you an me", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0193.jp2"}, "194": {"fulltext": "28\\nThis towmont we in mournin weeds may\\ngang,\\nFor never mair we ll hear a guid Scots fang.\\nAh, welladay but my poor heart be fad,\\nTo hear the lofs o lie a blythfome lad.\\nOur fangfters, even d to him, are poor dull\\nfnGols,\\nA fet o peeviCh felf-conceited fools,\\nWha think that nane hae ony wit or know-\\nledge,\\nUnlefs it be dung in them at a College\\nThey cock their nofe fae heigh, an mak fie\\nclamour\\nBout Logic, an the kittle rules o grammar.\\nHow paughtily ye ll hear the billies fpeak\\nIn quPs an quod s or fometimes French or\\nGreek,\\nWhilk crams their fang fae fou o odd-like\\nphrafes,\\nTheir ftyle to me as dark as ony maze is\\nBut Rob, whafe marrow ne er amang us fung,\\nAy prided in our ain guid mother tongue.\\nTAM.\\nSin auld Gawn Douglas in his haly gown,\\nAn Jamie, wha did brawly bruik the crown,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0194.jp2"}, "195": {"fulltext": "2 9\\nThere has been monie a chiel o muckle girt)\\nMang whom was Sandie Rofs o er at Langlee,\\nAn JVitl Dunbar, an Ram/ay, glib an keen,\\nAye, and the winfome bard o Hawthornden,\\nAn young Rob Fergujfon, a deathlefs name,\\nAn monie mae o meikle worth an fame\\nFu fweet the callans chauntit i their turns;\\nYet they hae a been far outfung by Burns\\nAn fome o them e en too were book-tear 9 d\\nbangfters,\\nBut Robie was juft ane o Nature s fangfters.\\nLang lang for him may Scotland mak her\\nmane,\\nI fear fhe ll never fee his like again;\\nForme (wha faft am totterin down the brae,)\\nI ll never get the better o my wae,\\nBat linger out my days in grief an care,\\nSince cantie Robin plays, nor lings nae main\\nWILL,\\nHe was fae droll, had ane been e er fae\\nfnure,\\nHe wad hae gart him laugh in haffan-hour.\\nHe d mak twa dougs, wham chance had-\\nthrawn thegither,\\nOr ev ntwabriggs, converfe wi* ane anither,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0195.jp2"}, "196": {"fulltext": "3\u00c2\u00b0\\nAn* tell their tales wi as guid fenfe an glee\\nAs fome auld carles, Tarn, like you an me.\\nI mind as weel as if t had been yeftreen,\\nHow fweet he fang the freaks o Hallow-\\ne en;\\nAn if at times he thought the puir opprefs d,,\\nSair fair it griev d his fympathetic breaft\\nBut rich or puir, he gae them a their turn\\nYe mind the fang, how man was made to\\nmourn\\nEv n- whan himfel he happen d to fa wrang,\\nFegs Robin chofe the fubjecl for a fang.\\nBut now he s gane the bonny bard o Ayr,\\nSic Mufic, Tarn, will cheer our lugs nae mair.\\nTAM.\\nWi him I monie a happy day hae fpent,-\\nAn aften liiten d leanin on my kent\\nI was fae pleas d to hear the chiel relate\\nSome funny tale, o whilk he had fie gate,\\nHe tauld ay freely what came i his head,\\nAs t ftruck his fancy fae he tan d his reed\\nTho twere bout priejls, or dodlors, wars wi\\ndeath,\\nHe fpake his mind, nor dreaded onie fkaith;\\nAye he was fie undaundt kmd o chiel,\\nHe d fometimes crackit to the verra de il-", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0196.jp2"}, "197": {"fulltext": "3i\\nTil ne er forget that tale lie fad mifhan-\\nter,\\nAe waefu night, befei puir Ham o y Shanter.\\nNae farther gane than juft laft New Year s\\nnight,\\nI never i my life gat fie a fright,\\nIn ftappin waft to Andrew s; bread an 9\\ncheefe\\nTo a the neebors roun that night he gi es\\nA Show-burn blaz d, an a aroun was mirk,\\nStrange thoughts ran i my head o AU way\\nKirk\\nSome gyferts pafs d the neuk o Davie s\\npark,\\nI mindit Nanny wi her cuttie fark\\nSinfyne Ifcarce dare travel whan tis dark.\\nBut monie a merry tale Rob fang befide,\\nWhilk fili d wi laughter aft our ingle fide,\\nSoon s he came in I trow we quat our\\nftockin\\nThe houfe pang d fow, an fyne we d had fie\\nyokiu\\nIt cheer d ane s verra faul to hear him fing;\\nHis wit fee gleg gart a the clachan ring.\\nAuld Scotlan Ian in wavin* crape may\\ngang,\\nNae mair her poet cheers her wi a fang,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0197.jp2"}, "198": {"fulltext": "32\\nWILL.\\nThat burn ye fee, whilk faftly tows alang.\\nAn 5 joyfu flows the flow ry fvvairds amang,\\nOur larnmies, fee how cheerfully they play,\\nWhile Robin fang we cheerfu were as they.\\nHow pleafant ance our fport O happy time\\nWhan Love an Muiic baith were i their\\nprime\\nBut, ah I we needna fay what we hae feen,\\nNae mair we will be joyfu on the green j\\nThe mither may forget her fucking bairn\\nWhilk fhe fae fondly dandies on her arm\\nE en Jamie may forget yon rofy queen\\nHe took but to his bridal bed yeftreen\\nBut lang s this warld on its axis turns,\\nWi pride ilk Scot fhall hear the name o*\\nBurns.\\nTam.\\nAs lang as I can totter owre a kent,\\nAs lang s I can hound Yarrow o er the bent,\\nAs lang s I can relate the tender tale,\\nAs lang s the brittle thread o life is hale,\\nAs lang s my bluid is warmer than a ftane,\\nAs lang I ll mind the blythfome lad that s\\ngane;", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0198.jp2"}, "199": {"fulltext": "33. 3\\nHow fweet he fang ah fie bewitchin air\\nBut now, wae s me he ll fing nor play nae\\nmair.\\nWill.\\nAlake, d 3 ye hear what fad and mournfu\\nfounds,\\nWhile Scotlan s verra northmoft neuk re-\\nfounds\\nHear hear yon fhepherd on yon diftant\\nhill,\\nWhafe pityin pipe is foundin loud and\\nflirill\\nAn monie mae, whafe dolefu plaintive\\nftrains\\nWi melancholy mufic fill the plains\\nSee even the owy race forget their play\\nA Nature glooms, an looksna half fae gay\\nAs we hae ken; but, ah what fairs this\\nplaint,\\nIt will be lang afore our grief will ftent\\nFor years to come I trow it will get vent.\\nhis\\nTam.\\nAye, Willie, that is owre true ye hae faid,\\nBut I maun now draw to my kent an plaid,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0199.jp2"}, "200": {"fulltext": "34\\nThe fun is drawin waftlins out o fight,\\nAn ilka thing befpeaks approachin night\\nEre I get yont the hill, I hae a thought,\\nThe lafles will be waitin at the bught.\\nIf we be fpar d (as troth we eanna fay),\\nWe ll meet again, dear frien fome ither day,\\nBut waes my heart twill be but to deplore.\\nThe lofs we thole we never can reftore\\nNae cheerfu bard to drown our bitter care\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nNa, Robin Burns will never whittle mair.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0200.jp2"}, "201": {"fulltext": "35 1\\nTO A DOMINIE,\\nOn hearing from him that he was gone to Sea.\\nMarch 17. 1801.\\nWhat de iPs come o er the Dominie now\\nSure s death I fcarce can think it true,\\nThat a bit A B broad, like you,\\nShou d tak a notion\\nThe wide Nereian fields to plow\\nAn brave the ocean.\\nWhat curfed demon hatch d the fcheme\\nSay did ye o the trade think fhame\\nOr third ye after naval fame\\nWhy, tent me Johnnie\\nIll bairns are ay beft heard at hame,\\nGif they hae ony*\\nThough heez d fae hie dinna look down\\nOn your auld cronie\\nOr ony o the coat aroun*,\\nThough e er fae flupit", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0201.jp2"}, "202": {"fulltext": "E 3 5 3\\nLook to the rock whence ye was hewn,\\n^The pit whence howkit.\\nGif Monfieur s durk fhou d gi e a fneg,\\nOr aughteen punder, wi a fleg,\\nShou d gi e a knappit arm or leg,\\nOr fplintert jaws,\\nYe ll aiblins (better yet than beg)\\nRefume the tawfe.\\nO Fate s dark beuk I hae nae fkill,\\nNor do I mean to bode ye ill,\\nDe il tak the chiel your bluid wad fpill\\nMay Pluto s fork\\nSufpend his impious limbs i\\nLike hams o pork.\\nSmooth be the furface o the deep,\\nSweet i the hammock be your jleep\\nMay Nereids dance aroun the (hip\\nTo hear your fiddle,\\nAn jealous Triton diftance keep,\\nNor dare to meddle.\\nJuft ae thing mair I d beg to fay,\\n(Keep mind o t when ye re far away),\\nMind ay your duty twice a-day,\\nAt morn an e en,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0202.jp2"}, "203": {"fulltext": "37 J\\nTwill mak whan bullets round ye play,\\nThe mind ferene.\\nAn then life s weary voyage o er,\\nYour bark will regions new explore,\\nWhere winds ne er howl, nor tempefts roar,\\nNor fears perplex,\\nAn waft ye to the happy fhore\\nAyont the Styx.\\nD", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0203.jp2"}, "204": {"fulltext": "E H\u00c2\u00ab j\\nADDRESS\\ntHE REPRESENTATIVES OF THE PEOPLE,\\nOn their being called to Parliament (Nov. n. 1800.) to try and\\ndo fomething anent the Dearnefs 0 the Meal.\\nSirs,\\nWi your leaves, a word or twa\\\\\\nFrae ane whafe knowledge is but fina\\nBout ftate affairs nor wha can blaw\\nBout gowd or riches;\\nBut cauld an wat ay toils awa\\nMang dykes an ditches.\\nFair fa yon chiels i Lunnin town\\nWha fent their pray rs up to the Crown,\\nAn gart the proclamation roun\\nBe quickly fent,\\nTo houfe ye (fquannert up an down)\\nIn Parliament.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0204.jp2"}, "205": {"fulltext": "C 39 3\\nNow, whan ye meet, Godfake beware\\nO hanlin flightly this affair;\\nStan bauldly up an face the chair,\\nAn* wag your head\\nAn tell how Britons are fae bare\\nO brofe an bread.\\nSome o you weel can reprefent it*\\nSae tell it plain, an gar them tent it\\nMake Willie wi our cafe acquaint!^\\nAn be nae flack\\nYe ll hae nae caufe for to repent it\\nWhan ye come back,\\nTell how we re toiling air an late\\nThe fcanty bannocks for to get\\nYet aftentimes there s no ae bit\\nIn monie a houfe,\\nWhilk gars a birkie look as blate\\nAs a church moufe.\\nMind labourin fo k are fair oppreiVd,.\\nAnd Famine, that confoundit pell:,\\nIs fhoarin fair for to moleft\\nUs, ilka man\\nHafte,.get our grievances redrefs d\\nAs fail s ye can=", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0205.jp2"}, "206": {"fulltext": "40\\nThe want o bread s a ferious thing,\\nAn hunger has a devilifh fting,\\nTwad pierce the heart ev n o a King\\nGif G e but kend it,\\nI ll lay my lugs fome plan he d bring\\nAbout to mend it.\\nSee what our fituations are,\\nThings double, triple, faith o 9 par\\nSome lay the wyte u.pi the war,\\nSome on the feafon\\nGuid fegs, they needna gang fae far\\nTo fin* the reafon.\\nYour Honours, therefore, we expeft,\\nBy nae means will our caufe neglect\\nThen let us fee ye hae refpeft\\nFor wretched creatures\\nAn grip thae rafcals by the neck\\nThey ca* regraters.\\nSoufe ilka mon polizir/ chiel,\\nThe Berwick rner charts cowe them weel,\\nTis they wha play the verra deil\\nBout a this place\\nThey buy up a our corn an meal\\nAfore our face.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0206.jp2"}, "207": {"fulltext": "4i\\nAn roonie o our farmer cuifs\\nHae barns maift ftappit to the roofs,\\nBut never meetin your reproofs,\\nThey tak nae heed\\nWhile puir fouk may gae lick their luifs\\nFor want o bread.\\nO could your wifdom but invent\\nSome kittle fcheaie to raife their rent,\\nThey o this trade wad foon repent,\\nAnd, in a trice,\\nOur corn an meal baith, Ffe indent,\\nWad fa in price.\\nGar vile retailers, too, ilrike under,\\nThey pick the pouch o monie a hunder;\\nO ftrike them wi terrific wonder.\\nMay your kind acts\\nBe like a twa-an -forty punder\\nUpo their backs,.\\nYe little ken what puir fo k dree\\nBut wad ye come yourfels an fee,\\nAn fpen a month or twa wi me,\\nIn hamel deeding\\nSee how your ftamachs wad agree\\nWi kintra feedin 5\\nd iij", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0207.jp2"}, "208": {"fulltext": "42 1\\nBut firft an foremoft hafte to Lunnin,\\nAn r a your art an 1 cunnin%\\nTo bring relief, an be nae funnin\\nOn this occafion\\nThe gratefu thanks ye il thus be winnin*\\nO ha the Nation,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0208.jp2"}, "209": {"fulltext": "43 J\\nTO T****** R*####\\nReceiving a Summons (at his inftancej before the J ti/lke-\\nCourt at L*****.\\nSir,\\nAe day as I at work did ply,\\nA gruefome camfheugh carle came t?y,\\nWha gently pap d me on the cheek,\\nSayin Frien wi you Fd wiftx to fpeak f\\nHingin* my lugs I ftapp d afide,\\nTh* important bufinefs for to hide,\\nBut, fegs I trow I gat my nacket\\nHe gae me your unwelcome packet,\\nIn whilk ye charge me to appear\\nAn anfwer for my want o* gear.\\nI own your libel s partly true,\\nI m aw n fome filler fure to you j", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0209.jp2"}, "210": {"fulltext": "44\\nAn for to gie t I m nae unwillin\\nBut at this time I ve no ae fhillin\\nWhilk mak s me e en baith dowf an dorty.\\nAs ye demand fome mair than forty\\nBut what way cou-d ye ever fay\\nThat I refus d my debt to pay,\\nUfiiefs by law I was compeli d\\nA fawfer tale was never teli d.\\nTo pay you, Sir, I ne er refus d\\nYour goodnefs fudena be abus d\\nFor, in my need, ye gae me credit,\\nAn* at that time I was right glad o t\\nIt faird me muckle in my need\\nSince a my filler s gane for bread\\nWhilk has been fae confoundit dear\\nS pinched monie ane like me this year\\nAn truft me, Tarn, as I m a finner,\\nI ve had but monie a barefoot dinner;\\nI own tis true ye needa care for\\nWhether I live what way or wherefore\\nYe ll fay ye feek but what s your due\\nWeel, Tammas, that is verra true,\\nAn what s your due you fure fal have\\n(I m toilin for t juft like a Have),\\nIf ye li but mitigate your anger,\\nAn gie me time a wee while langer;", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0210.jp2"}, "211": {"fulltext": "45 1\\nAn if ye are nae pleas d wi* that,\\nGae rreft my wages wi J*** W*tt\\nGae down to Kelfo, there ye ll find him\\nNear the crofs-keys, a wee behind em.\\nBut fore the court I needna come,\\n(As like a fhee p I might ftan dumb)\\nI canna fwear I am nae aw 7 n ye,\\nYe ken that wadna be fae canny\\nIt only wad increafe expence,\\nAs I can offer nae defence\\nNor will I e er fraud up my face\\nFor to contend wi ye in this cafe\\nSae if their Honours fude decree\\nFor you to poind an prifon me,\\nI tell ye plain I winna flinch\\nFrae their decree, na de il ae inch\\nBut firil an foremoft I maun fay,\\nI beg their Honours will delay\\nTheir fentence until neifl court- day\\nAfore whilk time, I really ettle,\\nMy count wi you ilk plack to fettle\\nSoon as it s due it fal be fought for,\\nI ve now the griteft part o t wrought for\\nAn foon s o principal Fm eas d,\\nYe fal hae intereil till ye re pleas d j", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0211.jp2"}, "212": {"fulltext": "46\\nSae at this time I fay nae mair,\\nIt only wad increafe my care\\nI confequently clofe this letter,\\nRemaining Sir, your Hum le Debtor.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0212.jp2"}, "213": {"fulltext": "47\\nFROM T***** R*****,\\nIn anfwer to the foregoing*\\nOctober 6. i8oc\\nDear Sandie, I received your letter,\\nTho Jiller wad hae pleas d me better\\nYet your epiftle s ta en effect,\\nAs muckle s e er you cou d expedt.\\nBelieve me, Sandie, what I fay,\\nTe s nae be hurt by me this day.\\nI do affure you it was need\\nCaus d me againit you to proceed.\\nYe may believe (it is nae jokin\\nFor want o filler I m maift broken\\nBut, if I had my filler in,\\nI fe pay my trailers ilka fkin.\\nTo rreft your wages wi 1 J*** W*tt,\\nIndeed, my frien\\\\ I ll no do that\\nThat wad but fair the greedy crew,\\nAn* neither better me nor you.\\nTo fhaw you that its nae frae anger,\\nI ll gie you time a little langer", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0213.jp2"}, "214": {"fulltext": "48\\nHoping as foon as in your pow r,\\nYe ll no delay ae fingle hour\\nAn when ye bring the filler in,\\nI ll treat ye wi a glafs o gin.\\nMeantime I am baith true and fervent,\\nYour friend fincere, an humble fervant,\\nT.R.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0214.jp2"}, "215": {"fulltext": "49 1\\nEPIGRAM\\nOn the foregoing.\\nWhen Simon afk d of Hodge his debt to pay,\\nFor three lang months he crav d another day;\\nBut fure my .friend his fate fo hard won t\\nthink,\\nHe fummon d me next day he got the clink,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0215.jp2"}, "216": {"fulltext": "So\\nLORD MALMESBURY s RETURN\\nFROM LISLE.\\nThe die is call blood yet muft flow\\nThe haughty foe difdains\\nTo treat for peace then, Britons, you\\nMuft drain your deareft veins.\\nOur rulers, generous and humane,\\nHave twice an offer made,\\nTo raife the olive branch again,\\nAnd flieath the murd rous blade.\\nBut fince our proud imperious foes\\nSay bloody wzvjhall rage,\\nThen we ll negotiate by blows\\nTheir legions we ll engage.\\nArm, Britons grafp th avenging ipear\\nDefy their numerous hofts\\nAnd, by your far-fam d fathers, fwear\\nYou ll guard Britannia s coafts,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0216.jp2"}, "217": {"fulltext": "5i J\\nFrom Dover north to Shetland s ilk,\\nLet s arm us every man\\nLeave off the peaceful arts a while,\\nAnd fliow what Britons can.\\nCall back the days of former years,\\nCrefiy s and Blenheim s field,\\nWhere Frenchmen funk beneath the fpears\\nOur warlike fires did wield.\\nAnd are their fons lefs brave than they\\nThe fhameiul thought forbid\\nShall Britain bend neath Gallic fway?\\nTis what fhe never did.\\nBe Britons but to Britons true,\\nWe ll mock a foreign chain,\\nAnd baffle the united crew\\nOf Holland, France, and Spain.\\nE 1]", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0217.jp2"}, "218": {"fulltext": "52 3\\nNELSONS VICTORY.\\nY ES Monfieur, pour forth a* your hofts\\nT annoy our happy ifle, man\\nAttack our trade, invade our coafts\\nAt a your threats we fmile, man\\nExpend againft us ilka plack\\nTa en frae your neebor s purfe, man\\nYe ll foon be forc d to turn your back,\\nOr aiblins fufFer worie, man,\\nLike feme this day.\\nShall Britain ftoop to haughty Gaul,\\nOr any foreign foe, man\\nHowe, Vincent, Duncan, Nelfon, all,\\nIndignant anfwer, No, man\\nFor when her foes, like fwarms o bees,\\nAflail on ev ry fide, man,\\nO er a the wide extent o feas\\nHer fleets vi orious ride, man,\\nBaith night an day.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0218.jp2"}, "219": {"fulltext": "53 3\\nEv n when the wicked plundering knaves\\nOn land a footing gain, man,\\nThey find they can t make freemen flaves,\\nIn vain they wreathe their chain, man\\nOld Albion ftands as ftive s a rock,\\nHer ilka fon s a fodger\\nAn do they think fhe ll wear their yoke\\nNa, fegs, they ne er fhall budge her\\nOn ony day.\\nThe fleeching dogs fet up their face,\\nAn fhaw its fairefl fide, man\\nThey promife the fraternal kifs\\nWhan they the Channel ftride, man\\nBut Britons meet the kind embrace\\nO the great powerful nation,\\nWi bullets rattlin i their face,.\\nTwas beil fraternization\\nFor them yon day.\\nNow, Monfieur, lay afide your boaft\\nMynheer, the fame to you man\\nAs for poor Don, his life twad coft,\\nShould he but play keek boo, man\\nBrave Nelfon fhall the fea command,\\nHis foes unite in vain, man\\ne iij", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0219.jp2"}, "220": {"fulltext": "54\\nHe s drubb d them twice, an gi en his hand\\nHe ll do the like again, man,\\nSome future day.\\nMay Heav n blefs a the gallant tars\\nWha point Britannia s guns, man\\nAn may they fliaw their glorious fears\\nAs patterns to their fons, man.\\nIn future times, whan Britain s foes\\nAre hov ring round her ifle, man,\\nThen may her fons remember thofe\\nWho fell near by the Nile, man,\\nYon glorious day.\\nGod blefs our King lang may he reign\\nAmang a happy people\\nMay a his fecret en mies fwing\\nAs high as Berwick fteeple\\nMay war be banifh d frae our land,\\nWi a its noife an thunder,\\nAn may our Conftitution ftand,\\nOur pride, the warld s wonder,\\nIlk comin day", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0220.jp2"}, "221": {"fulltext": "r 55 3\\nDEPARTURE OF THE YEAR i8do.\\nHO, yes to a* men be it kend\\nThe century now is at an end,\\nAuld eighteen-hunder wi a fiend\\nEnds a the clatter;\\nSae critics need nae mair contend\\nAbout the matter.\\nBut fliame light on his weary friout\\nTill his laft minute was run out,\\nHe thought to put us to the rout\\nThrough a the land\\nAn mony an honeft man gar t lout\\nNeath n:is ry s hand.\\nWhan Aughteen-hun er was a bairn,\\nHis dad had left us fair forfairn,\\nWe never dreamt his heir wad learn\\nSic wicked turns,\\nYet, fegs, he s left mair tatter d yarn\\nAn ravell d pirns 3", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0221.jp2"}, "222": {"fulltext": "1 56 J\\nFor, fince he drew his infant breath,\\nHe s play d us a nae little fkaith\\nI trow o brofe an bannocks baith\\nWe ve been fair ftentit.\\nAn till he clos d his een in death,\\nHe ne er repentit.\\nHe play d right mony paukie prots,\\nAn cuift a hanth cruikit lots\\nThe pinchin meals an raggit coats\\nHe s gi en to hunders^\\nWill ftain his name wi laftin blots\\nAn waefu blunders,\\nNae doubt whan Rome had tint her hope^\\nHer kirk expo\u00c2\u00a7 d without a prop,\\nHer fons, waes me, too, left to grope\\nIn darkefi night,\\nHe fought them out anither Pope\\nTo lead them right.\\nWhat fyne Thro Europe tak a glance\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nFegs, he s led fome a bonny dance\\nThae awelefs callans owre i France\\nNe er like to fettle,\\nWi rapid ftrides they yet advance\\nA*i alk for battle,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0222.jp2"}, "223": {"fulltext": "7 -1\\nSure muckle worthy bluid they ve fpilt,\\nMarengo can bear witnefs till t,\\nWhare mony a fword gaed to the hilt\\nIn Melas band,\\nThe lofs o whilk was forely felt\\nOwre a this land,\\nIt gars us a e en look right four,\\nTo think the lowns kick up fie ftour,\\nAn fae perplex a Royal pow r\\nFor troth I fancy\\nThey ve nearly made the Emp ror cowr,\\nGuid honeil F******,\\nO wad the chiels refrain frae blows,\\nAn ufe fome means to put a clofe\\nTo war, an its attendin woes,\\nBy laftin truce\\nYet fome they fay do this oppofe,\\nWhilk plays the deuce.\\nFor now that biuftrin billie Paul,\\nHis impudence has grown fae baui\\nHe s ifflt d out fome wicked fcrawl,\\nAn laid embargo\\nOn Britifh veffels,. great an fmall,\\nSailors an cargo.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0223.jp2"}, "224": {"fulltext": "58 3\\nThe ftirrah thinks to fleg us a\\nHis 1 ie legions out he ll ca\\nAn troth, his crazie head may fa\\nUpo the notion,\\nTo kick our ifland like a ba\\nFrae out the ocean,\\nThere s ae thing I had maift forgot,\\nYou ve play d poor Paddy a fad prot,\\nAn made him equal to the Scot j\\nFor, wi a blatter,\\nYou ramm d your dagger thro the throat\\nO s Legislature.\\nNow, arrah faith the chiel may paufe,\\nAn aiblins think there was nae caufe\\nWhat then he maun fubmit to laws,\\nAn naething fay,\\nEnadted thin St. Stephen s wa s\\nBy night or day*\\nO thou firft-born o Nineteen-hunder,\\nThou rt come into a warld o wonder,\\nAn mony a blot an mony a blunder\\nThou ft got to mend\\nWhile mony an honeft chiel ftrikes under\\nSn^H Mis ry s hand.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0224.jp2"}, "225": {"fulltext": "59 3\\nBut yet though you are but a laddie,\\nWha kens but you may cow the caddie,\\nAn mak amends for your auld daddie,\\nWha vex d us a\\nGif ye be as unkind, Fd redd ye\\nTo keep awa.\\nBut, bonnie bairnie o be guid,\\nAn* try to item the fwellin fluid\\nSend a great rowth o claife an food\\nTo ilka ane\\nAn gie s nae caufe to bann your bluid\\nWhan ye are gane.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0225.jp2"}, "226": {"fulltext": "C 60\\nTHE\\nEAGLE TROOP OF BERWICKSHIRE,\\nA SONC.\\nTunc\u00e2\u0080\u0094 A y that an 9 a 9 that.\\nBesouth the hills o Lammermuir,\\nThe farmers, lairds, an a that,\\nHae form d a band o yeomen true,\\nThe Eagle Troop they ca that\\nA that an a that,\\nOur country s caufe, an a that,\\nShall Britons cowr an yield their rights?\\nNo mortal never faw that.\\nIn days o* yore, whan lang-legg d Ned\\nStrade o er the Tweed, and a that,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0226.jp2"}, "227": {"fulltext": "6i\\nTo rob oar lairds, to burn our towns,\\nTenflave our fires an a that;\\nA that an a that,\\nDing down our kirks an a that,]\\nThe Border lads their mettle fhaw d,\\nAn 1 prov d it was nae law that.\\nThe trufty fons o Berwickftiire,\\nAy loyal, brave, an a that,\\nAgain refolve to i y,Jland yont,\\nTo French an Danes an a that;\\nA that an a that,\\nWi glitt ring fword an* a that,\\nSee S*********** riding at their head,\\nWi helmet, creft, an a that.\\nOn S plains ye may rejoice,\\nBaith young an auld, an a that,\\nYour landlord will your rights iupport,\\nThe S******Ues an a that\\nA that an a that,\\nAn mony mae than a that,\\nLet them wha thought to coup tlie ftate\\nGae hide their heads frae a that.\\nWhan Britain ca s her faithfu fons\\nTo rin to arms an a that,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0227.jp2"}, "228": {"fulltext": "62 J\\nWhole legions to the ftandard flock\\nIn Caledonia yet\\nA that an a that,\\nTheir ancient fame an a that\\nA braver than the Eagle Troop\\nAuld Scotland never faw yet.\\nOur King may keep his mind at eafe,\\nLaugh at his faes an a that,\\nHis kingdom s fafe\u00e2\u0080\u0094 his throne fecure,\\nWhile ilk ane mauna fa that\\nA that an a that,\\nThere s Louis too, an a that,\\nPuir man oblig d to beg his bread,\\nIn foreign lands an a that.\\nLet B********* through Britain peep,\\nHe ll fee her fons, for a that,\\nLike hearts of oak unite an 5 keep\\nHer frae his grafp an a that\\nA that an a that,\\nOur wooden walls an a that,\\nIf he come here, we ll break his crown,\\nAn fend him hame to claw that,\\nSucceis to a* Britannia s bairns\\nWha wear the fword an a that,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0228.jp2"}, "229": {"fulltext": "C 6 3 3\\nAir the brave heroes o the Merfe,\\nWhafe courage ne er was.fma yet\\nA that an a that,\\nThe Eagle Troop an a that,\\nAn may the Scottifh Eagle foar\\nAboon his en mies a yet,\\nFIJ", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0229.jp2"}, "230": {"fulltext": "C 64.\\nEPIGRAM.\\nLove wifhes ay his darling to be feen,\\nIn public or in private, neat and clean\\nThinks in her abfence ilka hour a week,\\nAttends wi tranfport if Ihe deigns tofpeak;\\nBut Marriage ah, how rude an how ill bred,\\nCan kick the ance-kv d ohjeSl out o* bed,\\nTurn frae the charms whilk he did ance a-\\ndore,\\nThen pou his night- cap o er his een an fnore.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0230.jp2"}, "231": {"fulltext": "6 5 J\\nTHE PLAGUES 0 RICHES.\\nrile go wd, the Mifer sjlrong proteBion^\\nTho t bear him through in a had caufe,\\nIt~aft di/fohes the bejl connedion,\\n/in breaks the faith o J Frlendjhifs laws.\\nThe weary gowd a wae betide if,\\nA plague to a the human race\\nBein fae unevenly dividit,\\nDrives mony a chiel frae place to place.\\nThey wha are doom d, wi toil an 5 fweatin\\nTo pafs their days in grief an pain^\\nFind human joys fae faufe an fleeting\\nThe wifh d for end they ne er can gain,\\nThe humble wight wha hard maun toil ay,\\nBeneath Misfortune s dreary frown,\\nTo do his beft, will find it folly\\nTo try to fave a bare ha f-crown\\nf iij", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0231.jp2"}, "232": {"fulltext": "66\\nFor when his fax days darg is endit,\\nAn he the fair won pence can draw,\\nAught Shillings!\u00e2\u0080\u0094 what way fall he fpend it?\\nTwa pecks o meal condemn it a\\\\\\nAt hame he has a daintie wifie,\\nrive honnie bairns as ane can fee,\\nA hunder thoughts torment his life ay,\\nTo eafe the hardfhips they maun dree.\\nHe cautions them againft repinin\\nAt what wife Heav n has decreed\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nSec joy on ilka face is fhinin\\nHe s got his pay he s brought thembread.\\nFor twa- three days adieu to mournin\\nAn joy an peace affume the reign\\nBut, ah ere nieil pay-day s returning\\nTis juft the auld thing owre again.\\nYet letna fowk wha wear fie features,\\nPrefume too rafhly to conclude,\\nThat they re the.wretchedeft o creatures\\nCaufe no bleft wi a filler flood.\\nTheir life is quite a ife o pleafure,\\nThey never feel the care an pain", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0232.jp2"}, "233": {"fulltext": "67\\nThat gnaws upon the wretched mifer,\\nWhale only hope is heaps o gain.\\nHe joys to fee his coffers filling\\nTo help thera up he ftarves his wife\\nAn think ye -he d part wi a fhillin\\nNc wer t to fave a brother s life.\\nAn fade e er Heav n augment his curfes,\\nAn caufe the birkie draw his pence,\\nMidwives to pay, or to hire nurfes,\\nSair, fair he frets at the expence\\nOr if, black luck he rears a daughter,\\nHe fears left diftant w f ants opprefs;\\nHe values not the kintra s laughter,\\nAn he himfel imun Jhape her drefs*\\nAn if, belyve, her charms invitin\\nSude chance to tak fome laddie s e e,\\nAuld Dad fcarce e er refrains frae fiytin\\nUntil he learn wha it may be.\\nThough e er fae worthlefs, ha e he plenty,\\nThen a is right tis unco weel\\nBe what it may if gear be fcanty,\\nHe fwears fhe s rinnia to the de iL", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0233.jp2"}, "234": {"fulltext": "68\\nA proof a this I faw but lately,\\nWhilk greatly crofs d a loving pair\\nYoung J****, blooming, tall an ftately,\\nSweet P****, charming, young an fair*\\nAuld Skinflint nearly gangs diftra ed,.\\nWhan he the dreadfu tale does hear,\\nThat P**** friendfhip has contraded\\nWi J**** 9 though he has nae gear.\\nHe le ur d bout the worth o riches;\\nThat bleft are they their good wha ken,\\nAn fhaw d that nane but worthlefs wretched-\\nWad ever wed wi placklefs men.\\nHe try d her nieftupon Religion\\nTis faid he even did pretend,\\nFor to explain its hail origin,\\nWhere it began, an where twill end*\\nThus mony a weary text he gave her,\\nAn prov d, wi grave an folemn face,\\nThat filler makes a firm believer,\\nThat gowd s the fureft marko grace.\\nThe laflie, blufhin wi confufion,:\\nWad hear him out frae end to end,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0234.jp2"}, "235": {"fulltext": "C 6 9\\nEv n frae the Preface to Conclufion,\\n-But flill it didna change her mind.\\nSae, whan he faw his holy arrows\\nNe er touch d her heart, but harmlefsfell,\\nA lafliing nieft Gude have a care o us 1\\nWas ever worfe contriv d in h\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nAn now clofe prifoner fhe s keepit,\\nAn doors an windows a made fall,\\nShe lay in bed, but -little fleepit,\\nTill fax lang owks an mair were pail\\nWhile J**** is in fecret tryin\\nTo loofe her frae the weary jail\\nWhile (he for him is w T eepin*, fighin\\\\\\nBut ilka fcheme he tried did fail.\\nThe chiel, wha us d ay to be cheerie,\\nTo fee acquaintance now thinks fhame j\\nO ilka former joy grow 7 s weary,\\nO friends, o country, an o harne*\\nSae aff he fets in lang excurfion,\\nHe wha was joyfu blyth an kind,\\nIn diftant climes to feek diverfion,\\nAn banifli forrow frae his mind.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0235.jp2"}, "236": {"fulltext": "7 o\\nHis fa wit- Jhip now let s free his daughter.\\nForthwith her fetters are unbound,\\nWhilk had excited unco laughter,\\nAn tauk to a the kintra round.\\nHe thought his herdin now was endit,\\nSae lays afide the weary tether\\nBut vain his hope nor cou d he mend it\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nStr aught aff foe s run wvjic anither.\\nThen, fpite o a the laws o 9 Nature,\\nLeft his dear cafh fhou d gang to wreck,\\nCramm d in a wallet wretched creature 1\\nHe trudg d awa wi t on his back,\\nTo Embro ftraught, to difinherit\\nHis aln dear bairn (a curfed prank)\\nHis favour never mair to merit,\\nAn ftow d his treafure i the Bank.\\nAn wha kens but the chiel may fend for^t^\\nWhen. Spirt le- Shanks fhall let him ken,.\\nThat now he has nae ither end for t,\\nBut leav t on earth wi Jinftf men*\\nFor, O, how fad the mort fication\\nTo part wi s faul his hope his gear", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0236.jp2"}, "237": {"fulltext": "7i\\nCempar d wi 1 this, even d n\\nIs but a trifling thing to fear.\\nThus gowd, the mifer s ftrong protection,\\nMay bear him through in a bad caufe,\\nYet aft diflblves the beft connection,\\nAn breaks the faith o Friendship s laws.\\nThrice happy they wham Heaven does fend ay\\nEnough to fair them in their need,\\nAn 1 wha can mak a decent fend ay\\nWi brats o claife an bits o bread.\\nThe man wha thus can lh T e contentit,\\n^r feels iniatiate thirft o gain,\\nHis mind, by Friendship s laws cementit,\\nWill be a itranger ay to pain.\\nBut, weary gowd a wae betide it,\\nA plague to a the human race,\\nBern fee unevenly diyidit,\\nDrives mony a chiel frae place to place.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0237.jp2"}, "238": {"fulltext": "72 J\\nROBIN s LAMENT\\nPOX TH2\\nDEATH OF HIS FAVOURITE BICK WHISKEY.\\nGreat are the forrows feme maun bear\\nIn daun rin roun life s weary fphere\\nThe lofs o goods the lofs o gear,\\nGars fome fo k mourn,\\nBut my bit bead I loo d fae dear,\\nS laid in her urn.\\nA vile mifhanter fa ye, Death,\\nWhat brought ye, wi your deadly graith,\\nTo bring on me lie muckle ikaith,\\nAn wi your knife,\\nTo flap my cannie beaftie s breath,\\nAn tak her life", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0238.jp2"}, "239": {"fulltext": "r 73\\nPuir Whufky, dainty, harmlefs creature,\\nAlthough that fhe was form d by Nature\\nO a conceited, fecklefs ftature,\\nWhat fyne nor fhe\\nA cleanlier, tighter beaft, or neater,\\nFient ane cou d fee.\\nShe ne er was ken to hae a mind\\nAt onie time to ill inclin d,\\nBut penfively fhe aft reclin d\\nUpo my knee,\\nAn cheerfu canty ay and kind,\\nAs beaft cou d be;\\nAn ready ay whan there was need,\\nIf hens ratch d through the houfe wi greed,\\nOr mang the corn they gaed to feed\\nOr horfe or nowte\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nShe wad hae gart them rin wi fpeed,\\nAn roar an rowte.\\nWhan I had ta en an e enin wauk,\\nWi neebor chiels to get a crack,\\nPuir beaftie, fhe was never flack\\nMy dainty Whifky\\nBut trottit fore or hint my back\\nAy blythe an frifky,\\nG", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0239.jp2"}, "240": {"fulltext": "74\\nBut now I may fu lanely gang,\\nAn crime away fome mournfu fang\\nNae mair I ll join the jovial thrang,\\nBut mourn my fate\\nFor fie a bead it will be lang\\nEre I will get.\\nO, Death! had ye nae ither faes,\\nNae corbie craws or rav nous kaes,\\nOr wylie tods about the braes,\\nRight loun ly lurkin\\nOr fma er cattle, jumpin flaes,\\nTo drive your durlc in\\nWhat forro fetch d you wi your mell,\\nMy harmlefs beallie for to fell\\nWas t caufe ye cou dna get myfel\\nYe took my beaft\\nDe il nor ye ne er had come frae h\\nTo here at leaft.\\nFor now the rottens they may reel\\nThrough a the houfe, an thieve an ileal,\\nChow through the ark, and eat the meal,\\nAn cheefe an bread\\nThey ll fhortly play the verra de il,\\nSin Whiflcy s dead.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0240.jp2"}, "241": {"fulltext": "75 3\\nBut fure in vain the tear does fa*,\\nIt can t bring back what is awa,\\nAn the fame fate awaits us a\\nAye, ilka man,\\nHis lateft breath maun fome time draw,\\nHe kensna whan,\\n0\u00c2\u00bbJ", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0241.jp2"}, "242": {"fulltext": "7*\\nTO W****** b**** F***##*\\nDear W*****, I hae feen the time,\\nThat ye, in either profe or rhyme,\\nWadna been ha f fae lang,\\nO lettin auld acquaintance ken,\\nWhat way you in this warP fen\\nIn midft o a your thrang.\\nThis warPs a warP o mifhaps,\\nAlthough to feme it yields,\\nHowever fcanty be the craps,\\nThe efTence o the fields\\nCome rhyme then, in time then,\\nAn dinna be fae fweir,\\nLeft ruin, purfuin\\nSude catch you P the rear.\\nNae doubt fome chiels are right weel aff,\\nCan eat an drink, an crack an laugh,\\nWP grit fo k d* the town;", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0242.jp2"}, "243": {"fulltext": "C 77\\nThey wha on roaftit beef can dine,\\nAn fynd it down wi punch or wine.\\nHae little caufe to frown\\nYet fcores like me can fcarcely get\\nWherewith to flap their maw,\\nAn gladly wad gar fair for meat\\nWhat fome fo k caft awa\\\\\\nPotatoes (what that is\\nTo monie s o er weel kend),\\nS the maift then we tafte then,\\nBy whilk we mak a fend.\\nBut ye may ever blefs the day,\\nThat Fortune hoy t ye clean away,\\nFrae fie a wretched life\\nThat s fill d wi nought but griefs an* cares,\\nA warldfa* o plagues an fnares,\\nAn never-endin ftrife\\nFor let a chiel gae fight his fill\\nAn labour night an day,\\nAdverfity the fport will fpill,\\nAn fient hae t e er he ll ha e\\nSae come then, an hum then,\\nUpo your claffic lear,\\nFor preachin or teaching\\nKeeps fo k ay fat an fair,\\nG iij", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0243.jp2"}, "244": {"fulltext": "L 78 J\\nNow, as the limmer s been fae kind,\\nAs do what fhe at firft defign d,\\nAn s gi en ye fie a heezie\\nAn bang d ye up three ftories higher,\\nThan they wha toil through dub and mire,\\nAn gart ye live fae eafy\\nAy guide yourfel as weel s you can,\\nThough now by her your dawtit,\\nFor, ere the thread o life be run*\\nIt may be bitter fawtit.\\nTake care then, a$ ware tben\\nWhan need does only ftioar ye.\\nBut keep fliil a heap ftill,\\nYe kennae. what s afore ye.\\nThere s little news about this place\\nO confequence^ that I can trace\\nBut poverty #11 want\\nNow mak s us a to quake wi fear,\\nHow we ll get through anitljpr year,\\nAn ilka thing fae leant\\nSic pinchin feKfcm e er was kend,\\nOr t has been far atween\\nAn whan it will come to an ei*d,\\nWha fees has right clear een\\nSic fcrapin an fhapin\\nThings out to gar them fair.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0244.jp2"}, "245": {"fulltext": "f 79 J\\nIs awefome, an ftawfome,\\nBaith here and monie where.\\nFor me tis little I can teik\\nParticular, about myfel\\nI m fomething like* the reft\\nO fo k, that s born to be guar\\nOr turkies te ther d iri^a mflitif\\nWi poverty opprefs d\\nA while 1 vje left the dinfome clajrfqur,\\nThat rages in the jpjfrook,\\nI m fightin^wi* the knappin hammer,\\nThe picks, the fpades, an fhools\\nWhiles tugginV-an ruggin 5\\nUp baith the y ird^taf ft\u00c2\u00a3he\\nSair crUckin an* racial\\nTo my puir feeble B-afres.\\nYet, midft o a this brulziement,\\nFegs, W*****, I jn ay content,\\nAn that is beft ata*\\nThough warldjy^ge r it be na\u00c2\u00a3^rife,\\nHe wha has a contentit life,\\nHis comforts^prce nae fnia\\nThough wearied I at e en come in,\\nBefide a good peat ingle,\\nI fet me down wi little din,\\nAn gar my jargon jingle", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0245.jp2"}, "246": {"fulltext": "C 80\\nNae mair then, I care then,\\nWham Fortune may beguile,\\nShe s left me fhe s reft me\\nO monie a cheerfu fmile.\\nThis while it has run in my head\\n(Although it fills my faul wi dread),\\nTo try my fate in print\\nNow I expect you ll nae be nice,\\nBut let me ha e your kind advice,\\nThat s a the flap that s in t\\nAn then if this my crazy fcheme,\\nSude meet your approbation,\\nI ll o my wark think nae mair fhame.\\nBut feize the firft occalion,\\nTo tent it, an print it,\\nWhatever may betide,\\nThen fend it, an vend it,\\nThrough a the kintra wide*\\nSae now I fal gae end this fang,\\nLeft ye fude think it unco lang,\\nAn downa read it through\\nYe ll fay it is an unco haver,\\nA heap o ufelefs jinglin claver\\nYet troth there s feme o t true", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0246.jp2"}, "247": {"fulltext": "8i\\nBut foon s ye can (I will exped\\nYe winna be adverfe),\\nA twathree lines ye may direct\\nTo Sandiei the Merse\\nI trow then, I vow then,\\nTwill be a welcome gueft,\\nTill it come, I ll fit dumb,\\nAn keep my mind at reft.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0247.jp2"}, "248": {"fulltext": "82\\nTO T***** R**### g\\nMy guid auld, honeft, trufly cock,\\nI fee you want now to provoke\\nMe ance again to loofe ray pock,\\nAn* rhyme awa\\\\\\nAbout fome certain odd kind* fo k,\\nWha plague us a\\\\\\nAn* troth it was nae vain pretext\\nWhilk gart me fa* on fie a text;\\nSure ne er a birkie was fae vext\\nAs I hae been\\nAn how I am to fortune next\\nIs no weel feen.\\nYet fpite o a* the ills I dree,\\nI ever did and will agree,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0248.jp2"}, "249": {"fulltext": "8 3\\nThe powers aboon, to pick a plea,\\nHa e muckle caufe,\\nGainft monie mae nor you an me,\\nFor broken laws.\\nI own its true what ye do fay,\\nThat Heaven wad fend us, day by day\\nOur daily bread, we a 5 fude pray,\\nAn ne er be fear d\\nBut whare is Heav n to fend it frae\\nAn t may be fpier d.\\nWe canna for our verra bloods,\\nExpect that fardels frae the clouds,\\nOr cakes, or icones, will come in thuds,\\nThat wad be fine\\nLike Ifraei wanderi-n through the woods,\\nYe ken langfyne.\\nYet, after a plain truth to fpeak,\\nTis furely right by prayer to feek\\nBut, T*f that s lie a kittle fteek,\\nWe aften gang,\\nWhan we upon proud felf do keek,\\nClean wucte wransr.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0249.jp2"}, "250": {"fulltext": "84\\nNae doubt a chiel fude ay be hum le,\\nAn never at his fortune grum le,\\nE en though he fude ha e got a tum Ie\\nFrae tow rin plenty\\nYet, O, vain man is apt to ftum le,\\nOn folly bent ay.\\nBut, trowth, ye needna mak compare\\nTween human kind an fowls o th air\\nSma very fma wad be our care\\n(Ye may depend),\\nWere we like them we d ay be where\\nWe bell cou d fend.\\nTo crofs the feas wad be a fhame,\\nAn mony a ane has rued that fcheme,\\nBut, tent me Pfe ne er bear the blame\\nO fie a jaunt\\nI dearly like my native hame,\\nThough prefs d wi want.\\nTho plagued wi mony a downright knave,\\nTho whiles ha f funk neath misery s wave,\\nThe ftorm wi a its force may rave,\\nI ll prime my nofe\\nAn wi unihaken nerve I ll brave\\nLife s peltin woes.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0250.jp2"}, "251": {"fulltext": "85\\nContentedly I ll jog alang,\\nThe bufy crowd o life frae mang\\nAn though my wind-pipe be nae ftrang,\\nWi heart fu true,\\nI ll ay exchange the tither fang,\\nDear friend, wi you.\\nH", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0251.jp2"}, "252": {"fulltext": "86\\nEPISTLE FROM T***** R\\nMy honeft, fonfie rhymin blade,\\nAt e en whan ye fling by the fpade,\\nGae fa to w ark\u00e2\u0080\u0094 as I think lang\\nTo feafh upon anither fang\\nSwith, choofe your fubjeft, an upon it\\nLet s hae fome epigram or fonnet\\nOr ony o your canty flights,\\nTo wear awa the winter nights.\\nFor bleak December s now come in,\\nWhafe cauld defies the thickeft fkin,\\nThat freezes up the warmeft blind,\\nAn gars fo k o er the ingle brood\\nDifmal an dreary looks the time,\\nAne wad maift fay a things combine\\nFor to deftroy baith man an bead,\\n(The puirer fort o them at leaft).\\nWhan I ftep out an view the North,\\nFrae whilk the tempefl iflues forth,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0252.jp2"}, "253": {"fulltext": "5\\n8 7\\n\\\\W fnaw an* hail borne by the breeze,\\nGrowlin amang the bendin trees,\\nAs by the roots it wad them tear,\\nAn on its angry wings them bear.\\nAh, then, I fay, how hard the cafe\\nO them wha hae nae hiding place,\\nNae fhelter frae December s blaft,\\nTo lurk until its fury s pad\\nBut a its bitter fough man dree\\nLike burds that fkulk frae tree to tree\\nWi pinchin hunger faint within,\\nAn fcarce a rag to hide their fkin.\\nBeholdin whyles lie fcenes o woe,\\nMy eyes fpontaneous overflow.\\nO wad grit fo k but fee their grief,\\nAn fend the fons of woe relief,\\nTis theirs their fufferings to affuage,\\nWhen ftrugglin under Famine s rage.\\nForgi e me for this dolefu rhyme,\\n(I cou dna help it at the time),\\nMy fpirits are fae fair deprefs d\\nWi feeing fo k fae fair diftrefs d.\\nOn ftridtly vie win things we fee\\nThis warld but a farce to b?,\\nHij", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0253.jp2"}, "254": {"fulltext": "88\\nA chequer d fcene of woe throughout,\\n(Although the truth o t fome may doubt j)\\nNae doubt the rich fo k fare fae weel,\\nThe ills o life they never feel\\nBut aft I ve feen a gilded book\\nWhafe outfide e en right fair did look,\\nBut turn it up fee, tales o wae,\\nPlots, murders, tragedies, an fae.\\nNow fure this does a leflbn teach,\\nAs ftrang as e er Mefs John did preach,\\nThat we fhou d upwards turn our face,\\nAn ftrive to reach that happy place,\\nWhafe bleffed bounds ne er harbour d woe,\\nNor Sorrow s tear fhall ever flow.\\nDec. 1800. T. R.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0254.jp2"}, "255": {"fulltext": "8 9 3\\nTHE LOVELESS LASS s SOLILOQUY;\\nA SONG.\\nTime-.\u00e2\u0080\u0094 He ivinna do for tee J*\\nYoung S***** s woo d me ear an late,\\nFor fax lang years and mair,\\nBut if he keiit his lucklefs fate,\\nHe ne er wad woo me mair\\nAn weel I wat he lo es me dear,\\nAs dear as dear can be,\\nBut, waes my heart, he has nae gear,\\nHe winna do for me.\\nAft has he come to tell his mind,\\nDeep wadin through the fna\\nHe s been to me a lover kind,\\nThe kindeft e er I faw:\\nH iij", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0255.jp2"}, "256": {"fulltext": "I 90 1\\nWhen lock d within his arms, I m fure\\nNae lafs can happier be,\\nBut then, alas he is fae puir,\\nHe winna do for me.\\nTo gang to be a cottar s wife,\\nThe thought I canna bear,\\nI cou dna live fie toilfome life,\\nNor ufe fie hamely cheer\\nMy braw filk gowns, an ither graith,\\nSoon a in rags might flie,\\nCou d I put up wi this na, faith,\\nIt wadna do for me.\\nMy daddie he wad me difown,\\nAn a my friends wad fay,\\n6t Were Ihe to marry S***** B****,\\nShe d fling herfel away.\\nWhat tho I ve often blufli d confent,\\nHis wedded wife to be\\n1 tak my word I do repent\\nHe winna do for me.\\nWare I to wad a placklefs guff,\\nI to my coft wad find it,\\nFor love, an friendfhip, an fie fluff*\\nI ve nae defign to mind it.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0256.jp2"}, "257": {"fulltext": "9*\\nSae wi the miller I ll awa,\\nWhate er my fate may be,\\nFor he s the man can keep me braw,\\nSae he s the lad for me.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0257.jp2"}, "258": {"fulltext": "92\\nTO Mr. W****** m####*####\\nON HIS MARRIAGE.\\nA SONG,\\nTune Eivie wi y the crooked horn* 1\\nChorus,\\nlour M****n,fweeter than the morn,\\nWhan dew-draps hang upd* the thorn,\\nThe faul maunfrae its hool he torn,\\nEre ye wV her maun part ava.\\nDear W*****, now ye ve got a wife,\\nTo be the partner o your life,\\nMay ne er that curfed thing, ca d ftrife,\\nDivide your lovin minds in twa.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0258.jp2"}, "259": {"fulltext": "93 J\\n/To ha e your minds, baith late an ear,\\nUnited, be your conftant care,\\nFor without that ye never mair\\nNeed hope to luck or thrive ava,\\nAy whan ye wander far frae hame,\\nBe mind fa* o your lovin dame,\\nAn never gi e her caufe to blame\\nYe for your bidin lang awa.\\nAn if ye fometimes fpy a quean,\\nWi rofy cheeks an fparklin een,\\nLet nae rude thought e er come between\\nHer an your Love that s far awa,\\nAn if fome wild mifchievous wight\\nAttempt to rob you o your right,\\nNe er try wi words the lown to fright,\\nBut daud his head againft the wa\\\\\\nThough Britain wide were i your grafp,\\nPrefer it not to Marion s clafp\\nAn whan ye die, your hinmoft gafp,\\nWill be wi grief ye part ava,\\nChorus,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0259.jp2"}, "260": {"fulltext": "E 94\\nChorus.\\nYour M n, fweeter than the mora\\nWhan dew\u00c2\u00abdraps hang upoVthe thorn,\\nThe faul maun frae its hool be torn\\nEre ye wi her maun part ava.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0260.jp2"}, "261": {"fulltext": "95 3\\n3 O N G.\\nTune InvenauhPs Reel.\\nThough I be puir, ait ha e nae gear,\\nI ha e a mind fit high;\\nArt ftmkin pride I carina bide,\\nHowever laigh I lie.\\nCommend me to a lafs that s kind,\\nAne o a frank an open mind\\nWi ane like this I m now defign d\\nMy fortune for to try.\\nHe s furely but a ftupit afs,\\nThat wad let fax lang fimmers pafs,\\nIn wooin o a thrawart lafs,\\nWha cafls her head fae high.\\nThough ance (he was as kind an free\\nAs ony kintra lafs cou d be,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0261.jp2"}, "262": {"fulltext": "96\\nFor want o gear (he s flighted me,\\nBut fient a ftrae care I.\\nThe want o gear s an unco thing\\nOn gowd do Love an Friendfhip hing\\nBut, wanting that, they baith tak wing,\\nAn far away they fly.\\nAn L***** s pride, I do declare,\\nHas caus d me nae fma grief an care,\\nBut it fhall never vex me mair,\\nSae I ll be juft as fhy.\\nThough I be puir, I hae nae dread\\nBut I ll get ay my daily bread,\\nAn fome kind laflie, too, I ll wed,\\nAn Fortune s frowns defy.\\nChorus.\\nThough I be puir, an ha e nae gear,\\nI ha e a mind fu* high\\nAn* flinkin pride I canna bide,\\nHowever laigh I lie.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0262.jp2"}, "263": {"fulltext": "97 J\\nSONG.\\nT a DC\u00e2\u0080\u0094* Wat ye wha I met yejlreen\\nHow happy was my morn o love,\\nWhan Betty firft did won my heart,\\nMy mind then ne er did wifh to rove,\\nNor from her lovely form to part.\\nIf frae my fight flie chanc d to dray,\\nHow flowly did the minutes pais\\nAn hour to me appear Vi a day,\\nWhan abient frae the bonny lafs.\\nBut Fortune (wha s been ay unkind)\\nHas now deprived me o 9 her charms,\\nHas ta en the lafs maift to my mind,\\nAn thrown her in anither s arms.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0263.jp2"}, "264": {"fulltext": "98 3\\nFor her, I now may mourning gae,\\nMay Betty never feel fie pain\\nLet Love protect her heart frae wae,\\nThe wound in mine will heal again.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0264.jp2"}, "265": {"fulltext": "99 3\\nFROM T***** r**#**.\\nYet hear what thy unfkilful friend can fay,\\nAs if one blind pretends to fhow the way\\nYet fee a while, if what is fairly fhown\\nBe good, and fuch as ye may make your own,\\nCreech.\\nSir,\\nThe letter whilk I gat frae you,\\nTells me that you re in earned now,\\nTo bring your rhyroin ware to view\\nO the wide warl\\nThough fome, nae doubt, (ye Il find it true)\\nWi it may quarrel.\\nBut books A like men, maun tak their fate,\\nAn bear fheir fhare o love an hate,\\nThis is the cafe wr fma an great,\\nWhate er their ltation\\nFrae beggars to the men o ftate,\\nWha rule the nation.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0265.jp2"}, "266": {"fulltext": "IOO\\nThere s many a poet I cdu d name,\\nWha though they ve get a deathlefs fame,\\nYet fnarlin critics e en on them\\nHa e made right free\\nSae dinna ferlie though the fame\\nSude fa to thee.\\nMy beft advice to you I fend,\\nWHlk for your good I do intend,\\nThough troth I hardly need pretend\\nE er to be fit\\nBut yet a fool has whiles been ken d\\nThe truth to hit.\\nThen, Sandie, ere ye prent your buik,\\nBe fure ye gi e t a carefu leuk,\\nAn try it weel, frae neuk to neuk,\\nWi keen infpeclion\\nAn fee ye ufe the pruning heuk\\nWhare there s defe iom\\nAn if ye wilh to wear the laurels,\\nGi e naething to corrupt the morals\\nThus ye at leaft may fhun the quarrels\\nO a doufe fo k,\\nThough wags perhaps may throw the fnarls.\\nAn taunt an mock.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0266.jp2"}, "267": {"fulltext": "101\\nTis furely right, while in our prime,\\nWhate er we write in profe or rhyme,\\nTo think it may outlive our time,\\nTo after age\\nThen never let licentious theme\\nOur pen engage.\\nThen, when auld age fhall tirr the crown,\\nA man can look wi joy aroun\\nHis writings chafte, his morals foun\\nWill nane injure\\nSae wi compofure lays him down\\nAt his lad hour.\\ni iij", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0267.jp2"}, "268": {"fulltext": "IQ 2\\nTO Mr, T***** r***#*\\nId anfwer to the foregoing.\\nMy honeft, true, and worthy frien%\\nI gratefully allow,\\nThe guid advice that ye ha e gi en,\\nIs orthodox an true\\nI b lieve it feldom e er was feen,\\nA -rhymer yet gat through\\nThout fome fo k dittin up his een,\\nAn aiblhxs fome his mou\\nThere are wha hae been thought but laroe r\\nAn yet ha e laurels won\\nAn fome ha e even gain d a name\\nAfore they d weel begun.\\nPerhaps I muckle am to blame,\\nBut now the rifk I ll run\\nYe ken I dinna write for fame\\nWhat then why, juft for fun*", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0268.jp2"}, "269": {"fulltext": "103\\nIt canna do me muckle ill\\nHowever fo k may ca me,\\nThey canna leflen the guid will\\nThe warld e er did fhaw me\\nSae let them e en gae flyte their fill,\\nTheir clatter ne er fhall awe me,\\nI ll try to war lie o er the hill,\\nWhatever may befa me.\\nBred to misfortune frae my youth,\\nI ve little now to fear\\nYet ftill the naked downright truth\\nI d conftantly revere\\nE en though forne birkies, wha ha e rowth\\nO waridly pelf an gear,\\nAgainft me open aft the mouth,\\nBut always fhut the ear.\\nSome fay that Fortune is horn-blind,\\nAn fome ca her a w 7 itch,\\nSome praife her as a larnmie kind,\\nBut I fay Ihe s a\\n-An trowth, I never was inclin d\\nTo r ladyfhip to crouch\\nI ve ftill an independent mind 2\\nThough little i my pouch,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0269.jp2"}, "270": {"fulltext": "104\\nAt times ane canna weel refrain\\nTo cenfure cap rin* Pride,\\nHer brazen front s a perfect ftain\\nTo a the warld wide\\nHere fome are mountit, (O how vain\\nWi buits an fpurs they ride\\nThere flighted merit, in a drain,\\nMaun ply wi droukit hide.\\nFor me, for a their pompous glare,\\nThe great I don t envy\\nBelieve me, Tam, they ha e their care\\nAs weel as you or I\\nRobb d o their wealth, they ha e nae mair\\nTo gar them look fae high,\\nWhilk to prevent, baith late an ear\\nDoes a their thoughts employ.\\nI in a cottage here do dwell,\\nAs happy s they wha re higher,\\nTo fee my Lizzie and my Bell\\nAy right s my chief defire\\nThough poverty baith fharp and fnell,\\nAn want, do aft confpire,\\nTo introduce fome fiend o\\nTo kindle up a fire.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0270.jp2"}, "271": {"fulltext": "E 105 3\\nThen black ning clouds appear in View,\\nSae thick, make ane afraid,\\nWe canna pay ilk ane their due,\\nAn Fortune lends nae aid\\nYet whyles, v/han mortals dreighly bow,\\nContentment, lovely maid\\nDoes kindly open fcenes quite new,\\nThen ilka fear is laid.\\nMy very heart exultin loups,\\nWhane er fie theme I light on,\\nLife s bitter cup it fairly coups\\nAn ilka thing fets right on\\nSae henceforth let me bid adieu,\\nTo a my cares an croffes\\nCome, blefs d Content it is for you\\nI d wade through rnuirs an molTes*\\ns?", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0271.jp2"}, "272": {"fulltext": "-io6\\nTO T***# p*** b##*#**#*\\nSir,\\nNow, in this month o fweet April,\\nJuft whan a* Nature gins to fmile,\\nWill ye gae drap your fpade a while,\\nAn eafe your back,\\nAn read (though in plain kintra ftyle),\\nMy hamely crack,\\nChiels wha are bred mang muirs an bogs,\\nAn little hear but croakin yft^ s,\\nOr fee but tautie-hippit hogs,\\nNibblin the heather\\nTis little, troth, fie -wretched dogs\\nCan do but blether.\\nYet here, in Lammermuir, there s chaps\\nInur d to clim in fcaurs, an flaps,\\nThough fields yield nae fie yellow craps,\\nAs bout Tweed Jide\\nThey fee their bloomin heather taps,\\nWi joy an pride.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0272.jp2"}, "273": {"fulltext": "io7\\nI own on Tweeda s banks to ftray,\\nBy clofia* eve or op nin day,\\nWhare lintwhites chant upo the fpray,\\nWi cheerfu throats,\\nIlk thing combines t infpire the lay,\\nAn raife the notes.\\nWhilft we, wha dwall mang hills an rocks,\\nWhare Ceres ha f our labour mocks,\\nTo ufher in nae feather d flocks,\\nThe cheerfu fpring,\\nBut whaups, an plivers, an 9 muir-cocks,\\nHow can we fing\\nYet whyles, although we be nae gude,\\n(Whan winter frofts do clear the blude),\\nWe fometimes fa upo the mood,\\nWhan nights are lang\\nTo try, although baith rough an rude,\\nTo mak a fang.\\nYe d laugh to hear us grunt an grane,\\nFor muirland chiels are aft but vain\\nHere whare I fit, retir d alane,\\nYour rhymin ware,\\nDear J**** has made me fidgin fain,\\nI do declare.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0273.jp2"}, "274": {"fulltext": "I 108 j\\nTroth onie chiel may freely fay,\\nAlthough it was baith dark an grey,\\nWhan ye purfu d your nightly way,\\nWi weary {hanks,\\nApollo fure infpir d your lay,\\nOn Tiviot s banks.\\nNae wonder though in penfive mood,\\nWhan ye drew near the ruins rude,\\nWhare ance the Border s Bulwark flood,\\nThough now right low;\\nWhare Scotfmen aft made fouthern blude\\nIn ftreams to flow.\\nSic dreary thoughts might wee] affright,\\nWhan envelop d in fchle night,\\nAn no ae fparklin object bright,\\nThe mind to cheer,\\nTill out frae Kelfo fprang a light,\\nBright fhinin clear.\\ni o 1\\nThen did the notes flow fmooth an fweet,\\nO Kelfo, fae compact, complete,\\nSic fpacious market-place, lie ftreet,\\nWhare, thick an thrang,\\nThe lads and lafles w^eel might meet,\\nTo hear thy fang.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0274.jp2"}, "275": {"fulltext": "io 9\\nHow Tweed did fpread, baith braid an 5 wide,\\nO er bank an brae, wi unco ftride,\\nHow Kelfo Brigg \u00c2\u00a3he forc d to Hide\\nFrae its foundation.\\nAn fink before her rollin tide,\\nIn defolation.\\nO Tweeda s verdant haughs an woods,\\nWhare Mufic echoes mang the buds,\\nIn canty har ft, what merry crowds\\nDo reap the fields,\\nThe fient a place aneath the clouds\\nMair pleafure yields.\\nAn you, O celebrated P***\\nMay ye ne er w T ear a dowie face\\nYe fing fae fweet, wi fie a grace,\\nSae fmooth an fine,\\nAne eafily may the genius trace\\nIn ilka line.\\nLang may the Mufe infpire your flrain,\\nLang may ye fing upo the plain,\\nThe pride o ilka nymph an fwain,\\nWhan ye rehearfe\\nThe fruit o your poetic brain,\\nIn Hid deft verfe.\\nK", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0275.jp2"}, "276": {"fulltext": "no\\nMay ye ay ha e a lucky fhare\\nO ilka thing that s good an rare,\\nEnough to fair yourfel and mair,\\nThat ye may gi e\\nWhat trifiin things ye hae to fpare\\nTo like o me.\\nAn as tis aft the poet s lot,\\nScarce ever to he worth a grot,\\nThough ye fude wear the ruffet coat,\\nOr hodden gray,\\nLet carkin cares your mind ne er blot,\\nBut rhyme away.\\nMisfortune s but a thrawart b-tch,\\nShe s gi en me mony a painfu twitch,\\nAn forc d me aft to dike and ditch,\\nWi weary banes\\nYet feldom can procure a flitch\\nFor a my pains.\\nWhat then, though chiels like me or ymi,\\nAre forc d^z^r^ aft right laigh to bow,\\nLet us ay honeft means purfue,\\nWi confcience clear,\\nThe roughed blafts that ever blew,\\nWe needna fear.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0276.jp2"}, "277": {"fulltext": "r in\\nTo murmur at ane s fate is vain,\\nAn can but fma 1 advantage gain\\nWhat fignifies to whine an grane,\\nWi* pouches bare\\nIt weel might aggravate our pain,\\nBut do nae main\\nBut now, my canty rhymin chiel,\\nAs I maun bid you a fareweel,\\nLang may ye live, an thrive, an* fpeel\\nParnaffian braes\\nMay ane an a gae to the de il\\nWha are your faes*\\nIn fimmer, when the roads are clean,\\nWhan lads an laffes a convene\\nTo beet the thrang, I wad be keen\\nTo fee the fair,\\nAt Jamie s or at BofwelVs green,\\nAn fee you there,\\nThings as unlikely ha e been kent,\\nAs you an I meet i fome tent,\\nBut, if we do, fegs, I fe indent\\nNae thrang fal hinder,\\nThat we twa fal be mair acquaint\\nAfore we finder,", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0277.jp2"}, "278": {"fulltext": "E 112\\nMeantime if ye hae aught that s rare,\\nAn ha e but ha f an hour to fpare,\\nSend it to me wi cannie care,\\nWha am, moil fervent,\\n(Or may I never whittle mair),\\nYour hum le fervant.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0282.jp2"}, "279": {"fulltext": "3 1\\nDEAtH OF PAUL THE MAGNANIMOUS,\\nJ^ament, ye northern princes a\\nDeplore, auld Scandinavia,\\nYour prop, your chief fupport s awa j\\nWi wicked Jpeed\\nThrough Europe hear the trumpet blaw,\\nGreat Paul is dead.\\nFaith, Christian may look e en right fowre,\\n(Oblig d by Neifon too to cowre),\\nThey thought to mak the warld glowr,\\nWi trembiin dread\\nBut Paul s bright reign is fairly o er,\\nGreat Paul is dead:\\nThis while he cou dna be at eafe,\\n*Caufe Britain wadna yield the fea c", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0283.jp2"}, "280": {"fulltext": "4 1\\nWi* wicked paws the bear did feize,\\nHer barks wi greed\\nWhilk fet a -Europe in a bleeze,\\nBut now he s dead.\\nBut wha will now gae venture forth,\\nTo help thaejbillies i the North\\nTheir league had better ne er had birth,\\nI ll wad my head\\nFor a their fchemes are little worth,\\nAs Paul is dead.\\nGude fegs, the Danes an Swedes may gape.\\nThey ve loft the beft end o their rape\\nThe deep intrigues whilk they did fhape,\\nWill gang abread,\\nAn lang their mads may wave wi crape,\\nGreat Paul is dead.\\nTroth, fome fo k fay the chiel was daft,\\nFor night nor day cou d he (it faft j\\nSiberian bears on Britifh craft\\nHe meant to feed j\\nKind If\u00e2\u0080\u0094 ck too, he fet aJaft,\\nBut now he s dead.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0284.jp2"}, "281": {"fulltext": "H5\\nSae, as he s fairly at his reft,\\nThe warld nae raair to moleft,\\nO, Saunders fure i^ wad be bdfc,\\nWi canny fpeed,\\nTo line wi olive leaves your neft,\\nMind Paul is dead.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0285.jp2"}, "282": {"fulltext": "i u6\\nON THE DEATH\\nOF\\nGENERAL SIR RALPH ABERCROMBIE.\\nASwhenfomefturdy oak, that long had flood\\nThe pride and glory of the woods around.\\nIs undermin d by fome fierce rufhing flood,\\nAnd allitshonourslevell d with the ground.\\nSo Abercrombie fell his country s pride,\\nHer flay her truft, in midft of War s a-\\nlarms\\nHe long he nobly fought he glorious died,\\nThe boaft and honour of the Britifh arms\\nO, Scotia your lov d hero is no more\\nSad, fad indeed, is the dread tale of woe\\nFor him who fell on Egypt s rugged fhore,\\nO, let the tears of love fpontaneous flow", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0286.jp2"}, "283": {"fulltext": "H7 1\\nFull well indeed may ancient Scotia boaft,\\nAnd glory in the iflem ry of her fon,\\nWho oft victorious led the Britifh hoft,\\nAnd made his country s foes to yield, or\\nrun.\\nAh many a hero, generous, great, and brave,\\nBy Gallia s revolutionizing crew,\\nHas been fhut up in an untimely grave\\nYet, like Sir Ralph comparatively few*\\nWhat did proclaim him to be good and great,\\nAnd fhone confpicuous on the vi or s\\nmind,\\nWhich made the hero and the man complete,\\nWas courage, fkill, and fweet compaffion,\\njoin d.\\nThe fields near Alexandria {hall declare\\nTrue British valour, and proud Gallic\\nfhame\\nIn fpite of MexN t ou, and his florid glare,\\nSir Ralph appears the former glorious\\nname", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0287.jp2"}, "284": {"fulltext": "\u00c2\u00ab8 3\\nIn Egypt s fultry deferts may they rot,\\nThe hands that did fupport the murd ring\\ngun;\\n^.nd blafted he the eye that aim d the fhot,\\nDepriving Scotland of her worthy fon\\nFarewel, great man! for thee fhall Britqns\\nmourn\\nAnd British Armies will their lofs de-\\nplore\\nYet, long s their bofoms dotkrfbr glory burn,\\nThe memory of Sir Ralph will they adore", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0288.jp2"}, "285": {"fulltext": "SUBSCRIBERS NAMES,\\nA\\nJames Auchjbold, Chat ton\\nRobert Allan, Catcune\\nMaitland Allan, Lauder\\nMatthew Aikman, Royal Artillen\\nWilliam Aiken\\nDavid Aitken\\nB\\nThe Hon. George Baillie, M. p.\\nJohn Black, Wboler\\nGeorge Burn, Holy-Ifland\\nJohn Baxter, Liiburn-Tower\\nJohn Baird, Corfbie\\nJohn Black, Weft Gordon\\nJohn Brack, Trabrown\\nRodger Bolton, Lauder\\nAlexander Brodie, Pilmuir\\nTames Brown", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0289.jp2"}, "286": {"fulltext": "120\\nt\\nJames Brockie 9\\nGeorge Brunton, Camiefton\\nJohn Beattie, Pilmuir\\nJames Brown, Royal Artillery\\nWilliam Brown, Bankhoufe\\nWalter Bryden, Dalkeith\\nWilliam Burton, Greenlaw\\nGeorge Bell, ditto w\\nWilliam Brown, grammar-fchool, Falkirk,\\n6 copies\\nJanet Brodie, Legerw r ood\\nRobert Brown\\nJohn Brown mafon, Glafgow, 2 copies\\nRoger Black\\nRobert Broadfoot, Edinburgh\\nC\\nDonald Cameron, Efq. New Blainfiie\\nWilliam Carr, Humbleton\\nSimon Cramond, Holy-Ifland\\nOfwald Carmichael, Wooler\\nJohn Coxton, Fowbery\\nJohn Coffar, Wooler\\nThomas Campbell, Lilburn\\nWalter Coffar, Legerwood\\nAlexander Coffar, Corfbie\\nJames Ccldwells, Lauder", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0290.jp2"}, "287": {"fulltext": "121 j\\nJohn Chiiholm, Birkhillfide\\nRobert Currer\\nJohn Cribbes, Heugh\\nJames Cribbes, Dods\\nGeorge Coffar, Greenlaw\\nD\\nWilliam Dickfon, Edinburgh\\nJohn Dickfon, Adenfton\\nThomas Dickfon, Baffendean\\nJohn Davidfon, St. Leonards\\nWilliam Deans, Thirlefton\\nNathaniel Duncan, Wooler\\nRobert Dun\\nAdam Dalgleifh, Falfide\\nAndrew Darling, Weft Gordon\\nEdmund Dods\\nThomas Dods\\nJohn Dods\\nWilliam Dickfon\\nRobert Douglafs, Stow\\nJames Darling\\nAdam Dick, Edinburgh\\nWilliam Douglafs, Snawden\\nMifs Dewar\\nWilliam Dryfdale\\nMrs. Duncan, Edinburgh", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0291.jp2"}, "288": {"fulltext": "122\\nE\\nDavid Ednionftone, Lauder\\nThomas Edgar, Carfrae-mili\\nGeorge Ewart\\nF\\nJames Fiergrieve, Falfide\\nJames Frater, Greenlaw\\nJames Ford, Dods\\nWilliam Fala, Lauder\\nThomas Fairley\\nG\\nHenry Gib, teacher\\nJean Gibfon, Corfbie\\nAndrew Gray, Norton\\nJames Graham, Weftriither\\nThomas Grieve, ditto\\nWilliam Guthrie, Huntly wood\\nAdam Gray\\nWilliam Gordon, Lauder\\nGeorge Galafhan, Glencrofs\\nRobert Gray, Cambridge\\nAlexander Gifford, Edinburgh\\nH\\nCol. Charles Hamilton\\nThe Rev. Geo. Henderfon, Lauder", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0292.jp2"}, "289": {"fulltext": "C 123\\nWilliam Hardie, ditto\\nIfabel Hunter, Falfide\\nMargaret Hay, Weft Gordon\\nJohn Henderfon, ditto\\nAndrew Hoggart, Greenknow\\nJames Hutton, Huntlywood\\nNinian Hoggart, Mellerftain\\nAlex. Henderfon, Falfide\\nWilliam Hogg, Earlflon\\nJames Hiflop, Lauder\\nAlexander Hiflop, Rothbery\\nJohn Harrower\\nRobert Harrower\\nJohn Hogg, Greenlaw\\nAlexander Henderfon, Edinburgh\\nJames Hutchifon t\\nWilliam Hutchifon\\nMargaret Haftie\\nRobert Henderfon, Lauder\\nGeorge Haftie\\nEliza Henderfon\\nWilliam Hogg\\nMifs Hunter\\nK\\nJohn Knox, Dunfe\\nRobert Knox, Weftruther", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0293.jp2"}, "290": {"fulltext": "124\\nJames Kirkwood, Weft Gordon\\nJames Smith Kidfton, Stow\\nGeorge Knox, Haddington\\nJohn Kirk, Edinburgh\\nL\\nJohn Laidlaw, Peafehill\\nJohn Linnen, Greenlaw\\nJohn Lamb, ditto\\nJohn Law, Pilmuir\\nRichard Lees, Galafhiels\\nThomas Lockie, Weft Gordon\\nGeorge Lyal, Oxton\\nJohn Little, Hyndiidehill\\nGalafhiel s Library\\nJames Lindfay, Corfbie\\nAndrew Little, Gattenfide\\nRobert Leithen\\nMargaret Lockie\\nJohn Luke, Efperfton\\nJames Laing\\nAlexander Lamb, Edinburgh\\nM\\nJohn Murray, Efq. Cor ie\\nAndrew Maule, Wooler\\nJames M Donald, Humbleton", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0294.jp2"}, "291": {"fulltext": "125 J\\nJohn M Dougal, Earlfton\\nH M B\\nMatthew Muir\\nJohn Murray\\nMary Monielaws\\nJames Moffat\\nAndrew Mercer, miniature painter\\nJohn M Dougal, Huntlywood\\nJames M Nie, Lauder\\nJames Moffat, Thirleftone\\nWilliam Mitchelfon, Salton, 2 copies\\nJohn Michie, Thirleftone- mill\\nGeorge Middlemafs. Weftruther\\nO M\u00e2\u0080\u0094 T\u00e2\u0080\u0094\\nJohn Morray\\nWilliam Mafterton\\nAlexander Mackie\\nJames M Dougall, Edinburgh\\nN\\nJames Nifbet, Spylaw\\nJames Nifbet, Huntlywood\\nWilliam Nicol, Lauder\\nJames Nicol\\nGeorge Nifbet, Flafs\\nPeter Nichol\\nJohn Nichol. 2 copies", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0295.jp2"}, "292": {"fulltext": "E 126\\no\\nJames Orr, Newcaftle\\nP\\nJames Paris, fchoolmafter, Stow\\nGeorge Peacock, Woodhall\\nAndrew Peacock, ditto\\nGeorge Purves, Weil Gordon-mill\\nJames Paterfon.\\nJohn Pringle, Greenlaw\\nGeorge Pearfon\\nWalter Peacock, Haddington\\nR\\nDavid Runciman, Wantonwalls\\nJohn Rutherford, Eaftmains\\nJohn Rogers, Chatton\\nJames Richardfon, Wooler\\nThomas Ramage. Lauder\\nRobert Reid, Edinburgh\\nWilliam Richards, Royal Artillery\\nRobert Reid\\nS\\nHenry Swan, Efq. Kelfo\\nThomas Service\\nThomas Shiell, Norton", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0296.jp2"}, "293": {"fulltext": "i2 7 J\\nJames Scott, Eaft Morifton\\nThomas Scott, Lauder\\nWalter Scott, ditto\\nJohn Stevenfon, Weft Gordon\\nAlexander Scott, Lilburn- Tower\\nWalter Scott, Wooler\\nW S M\\nAlexander Stuart, B. Y. C.\\nWilliam Stark, Weftruther\\nJames Simfori, Edinburgh\\nJames Story, Weft Morifton\\nJames Stot, Edinburgh\\nHugh Stuart, Cambridge\\nJohn Sanderfon, Birkhillfide\\nMrs. Scott, Broomhall\\nWilliam Smith\\nJames Scott, Lauder\\nRobert Scott, Dalkeith\\nWalter Skirving, ditto\\nAlexander Shiell, B. Y; C.\\nJohn Shiell, Dods\\nWilliam Shiell, Edinburgh, 3 copies\\nWilliam Storie\\nAndrew Sommers, Gallafhiels\\nT\\nJohn Thomfon, Wooler-haugh-head\\nGeorge Turnbull, Wooler", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0297.jp2"}, "294": {"fulltext": "128\\nRobert Tait, Thirleftone\\nJames Thorn, Boghall\\nJean Thomfon, Hyndfidehill\\nPeggy Thorbum, Edinburgh\\nJames Tait, Birkhillfide\\nRalph Tait, Spottifwoode\\nRobert Thomfon, Weftruther\\nJohn Trotter, Park\\nRobert Torrie, Corfbie\\nA. Telfer, bookbinder, Kelfo\\nAlex. F. Taylor, Edinburgh\\nU\\nJohn Ufher, Toftfield\\nGeorge Ufher, corn-dealer, Leith\\nW\\nWilliam Watherfton, Eaft Morrifton\\nJ mes Waldie, Fans\\nThomas Watfon, BafiTendean\\nGeorge Wilfon, Earlfton, 2 copies\\nJames Welch, Weft Gordon\\nJohn Waldie, ditto\\nThomas Whale, Earlfton\\nJohn Walker, Lauder\\nJohn Watt, Kelfo\\nWilliam Waddell, Edinburgh", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0298.jp2"}, "295": {"fulltext": "129\\nRobert Waddell, Woodhall\\nAndrew Wilfon, Whiteburn\\nJohn Wilfon, ditto\\nWilliam Wilfon, ditto\\nMargaret Watfon, ditto\\nRobert Whitlaw\\nAlexander Wilfon, Catpair\\nThomas Wood, Dalkeith, 5 copies\\nWilliam Wilfon, Wooler\\nThomas Wilfon, Dunfe\\nJohn Watterfton, Greenlaw\\nThomas Waddell, Lauder\\nJohn Wilfon, Cheeklaw\\nJames Wardlaw\\nRobert White\\nY\\nThomas Young, Oxton.\\nTHE END.\\nPrinted by Mundell Son,?\\nPvOyal Bank Clofc, Edinburgh.", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0299.jp2"}, "296": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0300.jp2"}, "297": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0301.jp2"}, "298": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0302.jp2"}, "299": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0303.jp2"}, "300": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0304.jp2"}, "301": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0305.jp2"}, "302": {"fulltext": "Deacidified using the Bookkeeper process.\\nNeutralizing agent: Magnesium Oxide\\nTreatment Date: May 2009\\nPreservationTechnologies\\nA WORLD LEADER IN COLLECTIONS PRESERVATION\\n111 Thomson Park Drive\\nCranberry Township, PA 16066\\n(724) 779-2111", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0306.jp2"}, "303": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4193", "width": "2315", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0307.jp2"}, "304": {"fulltext": "", "height": "4603", "width": "2688", "jp2-path": "poemschieflyinsc00tarr_0308.jp2"}}