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Away went Gilpin, and away
Went postboy at his heels,
The lumbering of the wheels.
Six gentlemen upon the road,
Thus seeing Gilpin fly,
They raised the hue and cry:
“Stop thief ! stop thief ! - a highwayman!”
Not one of them was mute;
Did join in the pursuit.
And now the turnpike gates again
Flew open in short space;
That Gilpin rode a race.
And so he did, and won it too,
For he got first to town;
He did again get down.
Now let us sing, "Long live the king,
And Gilpin long live he;"
May I be there to see!
Robert Bruce's Address to his Army
Scots, wha hae wi' Wallace bled,
Or to victorie!
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
Chains and slaverie!
Wha will be a traitor knave ?
Let him turn and flee!
Wha for Scotland's king and law
Let him follow me!
By oppression's woes and pains !
But they shall be free!
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Let us do or die!
My Heart's in the Highlands
My heart's in the Highlands, my heart is not here;
Farewell to the mountains high covered with snow;
The Solitary Reaper
Behold her, single in the field,
Yon solitary Highland lass,
Stop here, or gently pass !
No nightingale did ever chant
So sweetly to reposing bands
Among Arabian sands:
Will no one tell me what she sings ?
Perhaps the plaintive numbers flow
And battles long ago :
Some natural sorrow, loss, or pain,
Whate'er the theme, the maiden sang
As if her song could have no ending;
And o'er the sickle bending.
Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802
Earth has not anything to show more fair :
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Open unto the fields and to the sky;
In his first splendor valley, rock, or hill;
The river glideth at his own sweet will: