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Poems on various subjects

By R. Anderson
Anderson, R. (1770-1833)
  
[epigraph]
  
[dedication]

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Miscellanies.
  
THE SOLDIER,
  
ODE TO SLEEP.
  
THE PEASANT.
  
EVENING,
  
THE SLAVE.
  
EPIGRAM.
  
RETIREMENT.
  
THE ROSE.
  
FRIENDSHIP, LOVE, AND WINE.
  
SPRING,
  
ODE TO CONTENT.
  
EVENING,
  
ODE TO CARE.
  
LINES UPON VISITING CORBY,
  
HYMN, WRITTEN SUNDAY, FEBRUARY 11, 1798.
  
THE JOURNEY OF LIFE.
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Epistles.
 I. 
EPISTLE I. TO ROBERT BURNS.
 II. 
EPISTLE II. TO A YOUTHFUL FRIEND,
 III. 
EPISTLE III. TO A FRIEND IN LONDON.
 IV. 
EPISTLE IV. TO A YOUNG LADY.
 V. 
EPISTLE V. TO A LADY.
 VI. 
EPISTLE VI. TO A YOUNG LADY,
 VII. 
EPISTLE VII. TO A YOUNG LADY,
 VIII. 
EPISTLE VIII. TO A FRIEND, IN THANKS FOR HIS LETTER.
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Sonnets.
 I. 
SONNET I. TO J. C. CURWEN, ESQ. M. P.
 II. 
SONNET II. TO THE LARK.
 III. 
SONNET III. TO AN AGED PARENT, ON SEEING HIM SHED TEARS.
 IV. 
SONNET IV. WRITTEN IN WINTER.
 V. 
SONNET V. TO A ROSE IN ELIZA'S BOSOM.
 VI. 
SONNET VI. TO A YOUNG LADY, WITH SOME SONGS IN MANUSCRIPT.
 VII. 
SONNET VII. EVENING.
 VIII. 
SONNET VIII. TO JOHN HORNE TOOKE, ESQ.
 IX. 
SONNET IX. TO THE RIVER EDEN.
 X. 
SONNET X. TO A REDBREAST, WHICH VISITED THE AUTHOR DAILY FOR SOME MONTHS.
 XI. 
SONNET XI. TO THE SAME.
 XII. 
SONNET XII. TO A YOUNG LADY LABOURING UNDER A SEVERE ILLNESS.
 XIII. 
SONNET XIII. TO A POOR BOY.
 XIV. 
SONNET XIV. TO ELIZA.
 XV. 
SONNET XV. TO A PRETENDED FRIEND.
 XVI. 
SONNET XVI. NIGHT.
 XVII. 
SONNET XVII. TO THE RIVER CALDEW.
 XVIII. 
SONNET XVIII. TO MR. ROBERT CARLILE.
 XIX. 
SONNET XIX. TO ELIZA.
 XX. 
SONNET XX. WRITTEN IN SPRING.
 XXI. 
SONNET XXI. TO AN UNFORTUNATE FEMALE.
 XXII. 
SONNET XXII.
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SONGS.
 I. 
SONG I. A LASSIE AND A GILL.
 II. 
SONG II. THE CAPTIVE.
 III. 
SONG III. MARIAN.
 IV. 
SONG IV. GENEROUS WINE.
 V. 
SONG V. BEN BOWSER'S MAXIM.
 VI. 
SONG VI. LUCY GRAY OF ALLENDALE,
 VII. 
SONG VII. DONALD OF DUNDEE.
 IX. 
SONG IX. HARK AWAY!
 X. 
SONG X. DEARLY DO I LOVE THEE.
 XI. 
SONG XI. THEODORE AND ANNETTE.
 XII. 
SONG XII. I SIGH FOR THE GIRL I ADORE.
 XIII. 
SONG XIII. LUCKLESS JEAN.
 XIV. 
SONG XIV.
 XV. 
SONG XV. POLLY.
 XVI. 
SONG XVI. COME, SWEET GIRL, AND LIVE WITH ME.
 XVII. 
SONG XVII. THE LASSES O' THE LYNE.
 XVIII. 
SONG XVIII. FAIR SALLY.
 XIX. 
SONG XIX. ELIZA.
 XX. 
SONG XX. BONNY JEM THAT'S O'ER THE SEA.
 XXI. 
SONG XXI. KATE.
 XXII. 
SONG XXII. ABSENCE.
 XXIII. 
SONG XXIII. ELLEN AND I.
 XXIV. 
SONG XXIV. AUTUMN.
 XXV. 
SONG XXV. JULIA.
 XXVI. 
SONG XXVI. TO-MORROW.
 XXVII. 
SONG XXVII. NANNY OF THE TWEED.
 XXVIII. 
SONG XXVIII. DONALD.
 XXIX. 
SONG XXIX. WILLY OF EDEN SIDE.
 XXX. 
SONG XXX. THE LOVELY BROWN MAID.
 XXXI. 
SONG XXXI. KATE OF DOVER.
 XXXII. 
SONG XXXII SUMMER.
 XXXIII. 
SONG XXXIII. THE SWEETEST FLOWER OF YARROW.
 XXXIV. 
SONG XXXIV.
 XXXV. 
SONG XXXV. HONEST JACK.
 XXXVI. 
SONG XXXVI. MY DEARY, O.
 XXXVII. 
SONG XXXVII. THE SEASON OF LOVE.
 XXXVIII. 
SONG XXXVIII. COLLIN'S COMPLAINT.
 XXXIX. 
SONG XXXIX. MUIRLAND WILLY.
 XL. 
SONG XL. HENRY.
 XLI. 
SONG XLI. DEARLY I LOVE JOHNNY, O.
 XLIV. 
SONG XLIV. THE PRESS-GANG.
 XLV. 
SONG XLV. THE BEGGAR GIRL.
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Epigrams, &c.
  
EPITAPH ON A WICKED MAN.
  
DEATH AND THE DOCTOR.
  
TO WITLESS.
  
EPIGRAM.
  
THE IRISH ECHO.
  
THE HUSBAND TO DEATH.
  
TO AN ARTIST.
  
FORTUNE'S FOOL.
  
THE MISER'S FEAST.
  
EPITAPH.
  
EPITAPH ON A FRIEND.

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SONG XVIII. FAIR SALLY.

When Honour bade her sons bear arms,
And boldly meet their country's foe,
I saw in vain fair Sally's charms,
Adown whose cheeks the tears did flow;
And wearied with the rural life,
The russet hill and flowery dale,
Won by the drum and sprightly fife,
Elate I left my native vale.
172

The toils of war long time I brav'd,
Of danger still I bore a share,
And many a foe this arm hath sav'd,
For man may conquer, yet should spare.
Such scenes of carnage pall'd my mind;
Soon Britain's coast I long'd to hail,
And thought of joys I left behind,
When Fancy sought my native vale.
Oft have I pray'd that war would cease,
When bleeding brethren clad the plain,
And soon the tidings of sweet Peace
Brought toil-worn warriors home again.
Discharg'd, dread war a while forgot,
Fair Sally soon I hop'd to hail,
And onward trudg'd towards her cot,
O'erjoy'd to view my native vale.
I pass'd the oak, beneath whose shade,
I of fair Sally took my leave;
173

I pass'd the grove where, with the maid,
The happy hours were spent at eve;
I pass'd the village church—but wept,
And trembling read the plain-told tale,
That underneath fair Sally slept,
For one who left his native vale.
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