“ Her soft blue eye now languishes—
⁠Now flashes with delight.
The hair is braided not for mo,
⁠The eye is turn’d away;—
Yet my heart—my heart is breaking
⁠For the love of Alice Gray.
I’ve sunk beneath the summer’s sun,
⁠And trembled in the blast;
But my pilgrimage is nearly done,
⁠The weary conflict’s past.
And when the green sod wraps my grave,
⁠May pity haply say,
Oh his heart—his heart was broken
⁠For the love of Alice Gray.
This work was published before January 1, 1929, and is in the public domain worldwide because the author died at least 100 years ago. ”

“ SCOTLAND YET.
Gae bring my gude auld harp ance mair,
⁠Gae bring it free and fast,
For I maun sing anither sang
⁠Ere a’ my glee be past;
An’ trow ye as I sing my lads,
⁠The burden o’t shall be—
Auld Scotland’s howes, and Scotland’s knowes,
⁠Aud Scotland’s hills for me;
I’ll drink a cup to Scotland yet,
⁠Wi’ a’ the honours three. ”

“ My love was born in Aberdeen,
The bonniest lad that e'er was seen;
But now he makes our hearts fu' sad.
He takes the field wi' his white cockade.
O he's a ranting, roving lad,
He is a brisk an' a bonny lad ”