Rob Roy. Chap. xxxii.

My foot is on my native heath, and my name is MacGregor.

Rob Roy. Chap. xxxiv.

Scared out of his seven senses.[493:4]

Rob Roy. Chap. xxxiv.

Sound, sound the clarion, fill the fife!

To all the sensual world proclaim,

One crowded hour of glorious life

Is worth an age without a name.

Old Mortality. Chap. xxxiv.