| The Robbers came to our house |
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| Hail, Comly and Clene |
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| To the Marquis of Graham on His Marriage |
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| James Grant |
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| All Turns into Yesterday |
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| A Human Skull |
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| Then the Dancers Without the Hall Sing this Wise and they Within Answer, or else They May Say it For Need |
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| There stands a tree at our house-end |
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| Zeenty, teenty, halligo lum |
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| Let all the earth their voices raise |
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And I mus say
That you did a fine
Job writting your poem