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| BOOK II.—In Scots
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PAGE
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| I. |
The Maker to Posterity—Far 'yont amang the years to be |
77
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| II. |
Ille Terrarum—Frae nirly, nippin', Eas'lan' breeze |
80
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| III. |
When aince Aprile has fairly come |
85
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| IV. |
A Mile an' a Bittock |
87
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| V. |
A Lowden Sabbath Morn—The clinkum-clank o' Sabbath bells |
89
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| VI. |
The Spaewife—O, I wad like to ken |
98
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| VII. |
The Blast—1875—It's rainin'. Weet's the gairden sod |
100
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| VIII. |
The Counterblast—1886—My bonny man, the warld, it's true |
103
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| IX. |
The Counterblast Ironical—It's strange that God should fash to frame |
108
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| X. |
Their Laureate to an Academy Class Dinner Club—Dear Thamson class, whaure'er I gang |
110
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| XI. |
Embro Hie Kirk—The Lord Himsel' in former days |
114
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| XII. |
The Scotsman's Return from Abroad—In mony a foreign pairt I've been |
118
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| XIII. |
Late in the nicht |
125
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| XIV. |
My Conscience!—Of a' the ills that flesh can fear |
130
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| XV. |
To Doctor John Brown—By Lyne and Tyne, by Thames and Tees |
133
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| XVI. |
It's an owercome sooth for age an' youth |
138
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