Now glory to the Lord of Hosts, from whom all glories

are,.

Now, now the mirth comes,

Now ponder well, you parents dear,

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Now sleeps the crimson petal, now the white,

338

Oh, the sweet contentment,

Oh, call my brother back to me,

Oh, Mary, go and call the cattle home,

Oh! the days are gone when Beauty bright,

Oh where, and oh where, is your Highland laddie

O Jenny's a' weet, poor body,

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179

O swallow, swallow, flying south,

Our bugles sang truce, for the night-cloud had lowered,

O what can ail thee, knight-at-arms,

O whistle and I'll come to ye, my lad,.

O, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,

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322

262

348

192

85

174

340

253

88

132

286

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186

O, young Lochinvar is come out of the West,

244

Pack clouds, away, and welcome, day, .

12

Red rows the Nith 'tween bank and brae,
Rich and rare were the gems she wore,
Rose cheek'd Laura, come,

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271

92

177

She is far from the land where her young hero sleeps, .

272

Some talk of Alexander, and some of Hercules,

160

Spring, the sweet Spring, is the year's pleasant king,
Still to be neat, still to be drest,

Sweet and low, sweet and low,

344

Sweet day, so cool, so calm, so bright,

116

Sweet Emma Moreland of yonder town,

Tell me not, sweet, I am unkind,

318

125

Tell me, where is fancy bred,

The Assyrian came down like the wolf on the fold,

91

277

The boy stood on the burning deck,

The breaking waves dashed high,

The bride cam' out o' the byre,

The deil cam' fiddlin' thro' the toun,

The feathered songster chanticleer,
The fountains mingle with the river,
The glories of our blood and state,

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284

10

The harp that once through Tara's halls,
The King sits in Dunfermline town,

The laird o' Cockpen, he's proud an' he's great,
The lawns were dry in Euston park,
The minstrel boy to the war is gone,
There be none of Beauty's daughters,

There came to the beach a poor exile of Erin,
There come seven gypsies on a day,

There is a garden in her face,

91

There is not in the wide world a valley so sweet,

272

There was a youth, a well beloved youth,

65

There was three kings into the East,

190

There were three ladies play'd at the ba',

52

There were three sailors of Bristol city,
The splendour falls on castle walls,
The stars are with the voyager,
The stately homes of England,

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331

304

291

Was this fair face the cause, quoth she,

89

When all among the thundering drums,
When all is done and said,.

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1

When Britain first, at Heaven's command,

131

When cats run home, and light is come,

When the sheep are in the fauld, when the kye's come

Why does your brand so drop with blood,

Why do ye weep, sweet babes? Can tears,

Why so pale and wan, fond lover,

With fingers weary and worn,

You are old, father William, the young man cried,
You spotted snakes with double tongue,

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