The Lord Saltoun of Rothemay,

A Man of Micht and mekle Main;
Grit Dolour was for his Decay,
That sae unhappylie was slain.

Thair was not sen King Keneths Days
Sic strange intestine crewel Stryf
In Scotland sene, as ilk Man says,

Quhair mony liklie lost thair Lyfe ;
Quhilk maid Divorce twene Man and Wyfe,
And mony Childrene fatherless,

Quhilk in this Realme has bene full ryfe;
Lord help these Lands, our Wrangs redress.

Lord Saltoun of Rothemay,

A man of might and great strength;
There was much sorrow for his death,
That he was slain so unfortunately.

There had not been seen, since King Kenneth's days, Such strange intestine cruel strife

The loard Saltoon oa Rothimay, A man oa mikht un muckul main, Grait dolur wiz for hiz dicay, Thut say unhappilay wiz slain.

Thur wizna, sin keeng Kennith's dayz,
Sic strenj intestein crooul streif
In Scoatlun seen, az ilk man sayz,
Faar monnay leiklee loast thur leif.
Thut maid divoars tween man un weif

Un monnay childrin faadirlus,

Thut in this railm hiz been foo reif. Loard help this laanz, oor raangz ridress.

In Scotland, as everybody says,

In which many good men lost their lives; Which separated man and wife

And made many children fatherless,

As has been very general in this realm. Lord help these lands and redress our wrongs!

And are ye sure the news is true?

And vow, but he was a braw young lad
Annie Laurie

As a' gaed up Haaick Looan

As I was walking all alane

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252

152

282

262

At Willie's wedding o' the green

148

A wee bird cam to our ha' door

184

A wee raggit laddie he cam' to our toon

40

Habbie Simpson

Fy let us a' to the bridal

Gae bring my guid auld harp ance mair
Gae owre the muir, gae doun the brae
Get up and bar the door

Gloomy Winter's now awa'

Hame cam our gudeman at e'en

Harken and I will tell you how

I've heard the lilting at our yowe-milking

Helen of Kirkconnel
Hey, Johnnie Cope, are ye wauking yet?
High upon Hielands and laigh upon Tay
How blyth ilk morn was I to see

How 's a' wi' ye kimmer, and how do ye
Huntingtower.

I gaed to spend a week in Fife

I lo'ed ne'er a laddie but ane

I met four chaps yon birks amang

I sheared my first hairst in Bogend

I wish I were where Helen lies

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288

Jock o' Hazeldean

Jocky said to Jeany, Jeany, wilt thou do 't?

Johne up-on-lands complaint

John Grumlie .

Johnie Armstrang

Johnnie Cope

Johny Faa, the Gypsie Laddie