“ And poor Susan was laid on her pillow,
In her ear whisper’d some fleeting elve—
Your love now lies tost on a billow,
Far, far at sea.
All was dark, when she woke out of breath,
Not an object her fears could discover ”

“ How sweet are the flowers that grow by yon fountain,
And sweet are the cowslips that spangle the grove,
And sweet is the breeze that blows over yon mountain;
Yet none is so sweet as the lad that I love. ”

“ Wha tried to rin, but couldna win—
⁠They were sae well surrounded.—
They hack't, an' hash't an' stick't an' slash't,
⁠Nae quarters to them gave, man:
But wi' a curse set man an' horse
⁠To quarter in his grave, man. ”