Gars Auld Claes Look Amaist As Weel's

If Heaven A Draught Of Heavenly Pleasure Spare, One Cordial In This Melancholy Vale, 't Is When A Youthful, Loving, Modest Pair In Other's Arms Breathe Out The Tender Tale

John Barleycorn Was A Hero Bold, Of Noble Enterprise, For If You Do But Taste His Blood, 'twill Make Your Courage Rise, Twill Make A Man Forget His Wo; 'twill Heighten All His Joy.

Beauty's Of A Fading Nature. Has A Season And Is Gone!

O Scotia! My Dear, My Native Soil! For Whom My Warmest Wish To Heaven Is Sent

She Is A Winsome Wee Thing, She Is A Handsome Wee Thing, She Is A Bonny Wee Thing, This Sweet Wee Wife O' Mine.