Index of First Lines

[The first lines of Choruses, as well as of the opening verses, are given in this Index.]

Ae fond kiss, and then we sever, 73

Again rejoicing nature sees, 58

A guid New-Year I wish thee, Maggie, 37

Ah, Chloris, since it may na be, 72

Ance crowdie, twice crowdie, 150

An’ O for ane an’ twenty, Tam, 34

An’ O! my Eppie, 148

As cauld a wind as ever blew, 119

As Mailie, an’ her lambs thegither, 94

Awa wi’ your witchcraft o’ beauty’s alarms, 132

Ay waukin, O, 163

Bannocks o’ bear meal, 155

Behind yon hills where Lugar flows, 20

Blythe, blythe and merry was she, 7

Bonnie lassie, will ye go, 3

Braw braw lads on Yarrow braes, 75

By Ochtertyre there grows the aik, 7

By yon castle wa’, at the close of the day, 12

Ca’ the yowes to the knowes, 108

Cauld is the e’enin’ blast, 130

Coming through the rye, poor body, 156

Contented wi’ little, and cantie wi’ mair, 47

Dear Smith, the sleest pawkie thief, 114

Does haughty Gaul invasion threat, 169

Duncan Gray came here to woo, 18

Edina, Scotia’s darling seat, 69

Fair fa’ your honest sonsie face, 154

Farewell, ye dungeons dark and strong, 74

First when Maggie was my care, 130

Flow gently, sweet Afton, among thy green braes, 9

For a’ that, and a’ that, 167

For auld lang syne, my dear, 170

Gane is the day, and mirk’s the night, 51

Go fetch to me a pint o’ wine, 6

Green grow the rashes O, 22

Hale be your heart, hale be your fiddle, 61

Hark, the mavis’ e’ening sang, 108

Here awa, there awa, wandering Willie, 112

Here’s a health to them that’s awa, 168

He’s gane, he’s gane! he’s frae us torn, 142

Husband, husband, cease your strife, 131

I am my mammie’s ae bairn, 103

I coft a stane o’ haslock woo’, 57

I dread thee, Fate, relentless and severe, 164

I gat your letter, winsome Willie, 98

I hae a wife o’ my ain, 91

I lang hae thought, my youthfu’ friend, 151

I’ll aye ca’ in by yon town, 36

I mind it weel, in early date, 164

I’m owre young, I’m owre young, 103

I see a form, I see a face, 36

Is there a whim-inspirèd fool, 161

Is there, for honest poverty, 167

I tell you now this ae night, 135

It is na, Jean, thy bonnie face, 90

It was a’ for our rightfu’ King, 11

It was upon a Lammas night, 21

Jenny’s a’ wat, poor body, 156

John Anderson my jo, John, 58

Lament in rhyme, lament in prose, 96

Lassie wi’ the lint-white locks, 41

Last May a braw wooer cam down the lang glen, 101

Let half-starv’d slaves in warmer skies, 82

Let other Poets raise a fracas, 78

Loud blaw the frosty breezes, 138

Meet me on the warlock knowe, 10

My heart is a-breaking, dear Tittie, 32

My heart is sair, I dare na tell, 33

My heart’s in the Highlands, my heart is not here, 139

My heart was ance as blythe and free, 104

My lady’s gown there’s gairs upon’t, 43

My lord a-hunting he is gane, 43

My Lord, I know your noble ear, 135

My love is like a red red rose, 6

My love she’s but a lassie yet, 84

November chill blaws loud wi’ angry sough, 180

Now in her green mantle blythe Nature arrays, 74

Now Nature cleeds the flowery lea, 41

Now rosy May comes in wi’ flowers, 10

Now simmer blinks on flowery braes, 3

Now westlin winds and slaughtering guns, 120

O cam ye here the fight to shun, 16

Of a’ the airts the wind can blaw, 90

O guid ale comes, and guid ale goes, 84

Oh, open the door, some pity to shew, 111

O how can I be blithe and glad, 89

O Kenmure’s on and awa, Willie, 13

O lassie, art thou sleeping yet, 134

O leeze me on my spinnin’ wheel, 146

O let me in this ae night, 134

O Logan, sweetly didst thou glide, 15

O Luve will venture in, where it daur na weel be seen, 42

O Mary, at thy window be, 2

O May, thy morn was ne’er sae sweet, 129

O poortith cauld, and restless love, 122

O rattlin’, roarin’ Willie, 51

O saw ye bonnie Lesley, 71

O that I had ne’er been married, 150

O this is no my ain lassie, 36

O Thou unknown Almighty Cause, 159

O Thou, whatever title suit thee, 125

O Tibbie, I hae seen the day, 123

Out over the Forth I look to the north, 113

O, wat ye wha’s in yon town, 34

O were I on Parnassus hill, 92

O, wert thou in the cauld blast, 140

O wha my babie-clouts will buy, 63

O whistle, and I’ll come to you, my lad, 62

O why should fate sic pleasure have, 123

O Willie brew’d a peck o’ maut, 50

O ye wha are sae guid yoursel, 106

Robin was a rovin’ boy, 1

Sae rantingly, sae wantonly, 74

Scots, wha hae wi’ Wallace bled, 166

She is a winsome wee thing, 93

Should auld acquaintance be forgot, 170

Simmer’s a pleasant time, 163

The bonniest lad that e’er I saw, 68

The cardin’ o’t, the spinnin’ o’t, 57

The Catrine woods were yellow seen, 162

The gloomy night is gathering fast, 67

The lovely lass o’ Inverness, 140

The red-coat lads, wi’ black cockades, 17

Then guidwife, count the lawin, 51

Then hey, for a lass wi’ a tocher, 132

There’s auld Rob Morris that wons in yon glen, 122

There’s naught but care on ev’ry han’, 22

There was a lad was born in Kyle, 1

There was a lass, and she was fair, 109

There was a lass, they ca’d her Meg, 60

There was three Kings into the east, 48

The sun had closed the winter day, 200

The wind blew hollow frae the hills, 157

The wintry wast extends his blast, 46

Tho’ cruel fate should bid us part, 31

Thou hast left me ever, Jamie, 113

Thou lingering star, with lessening ray, 14

To the weavers gin ye go, fair maids, 105

’Twas even—the dewy fields were green, 141

’Twas in that place o’ Scotland’s Isle, 172

’Twas when the stacks got on their winter-hap, 186

Up in the morning’s no’ for me, 92

We are na fou’, we’re no that fou’, 50

Wee modest crimson-tippèd flow’r, 44

Wee, sleekit, cow’rin’, tim’rous beastie, 4

What can a young lassie, what shall a young lassie, 104

When biting Boreas, fell and dour, 23

When chapman billies leave the street, 193

When chill November’s surly blast, 64

When I think on the happy days, 12

When o’er the hill the eastern star, 145

Where Cart rins rowin’ to the sea, 147

While briers an’ woodbines budding green, 52

While new-ca’d kye rowte at the stake, 85

While winds frae aff Ben-Lomond blaw, 26

Why am I loath to leave this earthly scene, 160

Wi’ braw new branks in mickle pride, 76

Willie Wastle dwalt on Tweed, 133

Wow, but your letter made me vauntie, 149

Ye banks, and braes, and streams around, 8

Ye banks and braes o’ bonnie Doon, 120

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