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She is a winsome wee thing
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonnie wee thing,

This sweet, wee wife o' mine.
I never saw a fairer,
I never lo'ed a dearer,
And niest my heart I'll wear her

For fear my jewel tine.
She is a winsome wee thing,
She is a handsome wee thing,
She is a bonnie wee thing,

This sweet, wee wife o' mine.
The warl's wrack we share o't,
The warstle and the care o't:
Wi' her I'll blithely bear it,

And think my lot divine.

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O PHILLY! happy be that day,
When, roving through the gathered hay,
My youthfu' heart was stown away,
And by thy charms, my Philly!

O Willy! aye I bless the grove
Where first I owned my maiden love,
Whilst thou didst pledge the Powers above

To be my ain dear Willy.


As songsters of the early year
Are ilka day mair sweet to hear,
So ilka day to me mair dear

And charming is my Philly.

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As on the briar the budding rose
Still richer breathes and fairer blows,
So in my tender bosom grows

The love I bear my Willy.

The milder sun and bluer sky,
That crown my harvest cares wi' joy,
Were ne'er sae welcome to my eye

As is a sight o' Philly.


The little swallow's wanton wing,
Though wafting o'er the flowery spring,
Did ne'er to me sic tidings bring,
As meeting o' my Willy.

The bee that through the sunny hour
Sips nectar in the opening flower,
Compared wi' my delight is poor,

Upon the lips o’ Philly.


The woodbine in the dewy weet,
When evening shades in silence meet,
Is nocht sae fragrant or sae sweet

As is a kiss o' Willy.

Let Fortune's wheel at random rin,
And fools may tine, and knaves may win ;
My thoughts are a' bound up in ane,
And that's my ain dear Philly.

What's a' the joys that gowd can gi’e!
I care nae wealth a single flie;
The lad I love's the lad for me.

And that's my ain dear Willy.


Now rosy May comes in wi' flowers,

To deck her gay green spreading bowers; And now comes in my happy hours,

To wander wi' my Davie.


Meet me on the warlock knowe,?

Dainty Davie, dainty Davie;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain, dear dainty Davie.

The crystal waters round us fa',

The merry birds are lovers a',
The scented breezes round us blaw,
A wandering wi' my Davie.

Meet me, &c.

When purple morning starts the hare,

To steal upon her early fare,
Then through the dews I will repair,
To meet my faithfu’ Davie.

Meet me, &c.

When day, expiring in the west,

The curtain draws o' Nature's rest, I flee to his arms I lo'e best,

And that's my ain dear Davie.

Meet me in the warlock knowe,
· Bonnie Davie, dainty Davie;
There I'll spend the day wi' you,
My ain dear, dainty Davie.

1“ Daintie Davie " is the title of an old Scotch song, from which Burns has taken nothing but the title and the measure. -CURRIE.

2 The wizard's hill. Bi

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FAIREST maid on Devon banks,

Crystal Devon, winding Devon,
Wilt thou lay that frown aside,

And smile as thou were wont to do?

Full well thou know'st I love thee dear,
Couldst thou to malice lend an ear?
O, did not Love exclaim, “ Forbear,
Nor use a faithful lover so ?

Fairest maid, &c.

Then come, thou fairest of the fair,
Those wonted smiles, O, let me share;
And by thy beauteous self I swear,
No love but thine my heart shall know.

Fairest maid, &c.

* Supposed to be the last song written by Burns. “I tried my hand on · Rothiemurche' this morning. The measure is so difficult, that it is impossible to infuse much genius into the lines.''-R.B.









To Mary, in Heaven -
Stanzas in the Prospect of Death . . .
Address to Edinburgh - .
Ae Fond Kiss . .
O Were I on Parnassus Hill
Third Epistle to Robert Graham, Esq., of Fintry
A Bard's Epitaph - .
Wordsworth at the Grave of Burns . .
King Robert Bruce's address to his troops at Bannockburn

in facsimilie -
Winter, a Dirge
A Prayer under the pressure of Violent Anguish. .
The Death and Dying Words of poor Mailie . .
Poor Mailie's Elegy · · · ·
The First Psalm
The first Six Verses of the Ninetieth Psalm
The Belles of Mauchlin .
Epistle to Davie, a Brother Poet . . .
Second Epistle to Davie . . .
Death and Doctor Hornbook
Epistle to W. Simpsun .
To a Mouse on turning up her Nest with the Plough
Epistle to John Lapraik · ·
Halloween - .
Man was made to Mourn . . . .
The Cotter's Saturday Night
Address to the Deil .
The Vision ..
Epistle to James Smith ..
A Winter Night ..
The Auld Farmer's New Year Morning Salutation to his

Auld Mare Maggie
The Twa Dogs ..
To a Mountain Daisy . . . .
To Ruin . . . . . . .
A Dream
Despondency .
Verses to an Old Sweetheart after her Marriage -
Verses written under Violent Grief ...
Epistle to a Young Friend, Andrew Hunter Aiken.
Farewell to Ayrshire . . . .
The Brigs of Ayr . . . . .



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