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.