| A |
| Page |
| As I cam thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate, thro’ Sandgate | 5 |
| As me and my marrow was ganning to wark | 35 |
| Attend to my summons, ye British Electors | 57 |
| Allons, sweet childs, of smooth complexion | 70 |
| At Neddy and Betty were walking along | 79 |
| A bonny swain, blithe Sandy nam’d | 214 |
| Apollo, your aid I request | 217 |
| A fair reformation would render this nation | 236 |
| At Christmas when the wind blew cauld | 238 |
| About the bush Willy | 240 |
| As I went to Newcastle | 241 |
| All lovers of lucre may LAUD the Lord Mayor | 245 |
| A farmer near Felton, fam’d for vulgar fractions | 248 |
| All men of high and low degree | 250 |
| Ah! pen, ink, and paper, proves pleasing | 253 |
| And are ye sure the tale is true | 288 |
| As aw was gannin to Durham | 292 |
| At home wad I be | 296 |
| All the night over and over | 322 |
| B |
| Britannia scarce had planted the olive on our isle | 228 |
| Bobby Shaftoe’s gone to sea | 283 |
| Brandling for ever, and Ridley for aye | 300 |
| ’Bout Lunaun aw’d heard sec wonderful spokes | 314 |
| C |
| Come marrows, we’ve happen’d to meet now | 29 |
| Come fill a bumper to the brim | 86 |
| Come cheer up my hearts, my brave sons of the Tyne | 87 |
| Come, haste to Newcastle, ye sons of fair freedom | 102 |
| Come you lusty Northerne lads | 162 |
| Callaly Castle stands on a height | 199 |
| Come, gentlemen attend to my ditty | 258 |
| Come, brave spirits, that love Canary | 264 |
| Come all the gallant brave wenches | 281 |
| Come all ye lads who wish to shine | 288 |
| Croney its now near thirty year | 316 |
| D |
| Doctor Moff once more employs the burden of my song | 229 |
| Durham’s old city thus salutes her king | 291 |
| E |
| Elsie Marley is grown so fine | 285 |
| F |
| Fresh I’m cum fra Sandgate Street | 10 |
| Fareweel, fareweel, ma comely pet | 31 |
| Fra Beaton Bank, to Benton town | 106 |
| From Spey to the border | 137 |
| G |
| Great was the consternation, amazement and dismay, Sir | 73 |
| God prosper long our noble king | 128 |
| Good people, give ear to the fatalest duel | 219 |
| Upon the stately river Tees | 265 |
| Up the raw, ma bonny hinny | 297 |
| Up the Butcher bank | 299 |
| W |
| Whe’s like my Johnny | 5 |
| Where hast’te been, ma’ canny hinny | 9 |
| When unprovok’d, when foreign foes | 15 |
| When Fame brought the news of Great Britain’s success | 21 |
| Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ the welkin rebellows | 33 |
| Whilst the dread voice of war thro’ our island rebellows | 34 |
| When war’s destructive rage did cease | 53 |
| When cooling zephyrs wanton play | 59 |
| Whilst bards, in strains that sweetly flow | 60 |
| Who’s he that with great Mercury strides | 68 |
| We march’d from the camps with our hearts full of woe | 85 |
| What pleasure oft ’tis to reveal | 88 |
| When Royal Ge—e on new year’s day | 94 |
| When we were silly sisters seven, sisters we were so fair | 147 |
| Wold you please to hear of a sang of dule | 166 |
| When Britannia her sons calls to aid her in arms | 290 |
| While visiting this dark abode | 292 |
| We’ll all away to the Lowlights | 306 |
| Whence those cries, my soul that harrow | 312 |
| Y |
| Ye sons of Parnassus, whose brains are inspir’d | 67 |
| Yt fell abowght the Lamasse tyde | 107 |
| Ye muses nine, if ye think fit | 185 |
| Ye sacred nine descend | 218 |
| Young Solomon, tir’d of a batchelors life | 252 |
| Ye Stockton lads and lasses too | 267 |
| Ye freeholders of Stockton town | 269 |
| Young men and maidens all, I pray you now attend | 271 |
| You Sunderland lasses draw near | 284 |
| Ye sons of Sunderland, with shouts that rival ocean’s roar | 285 |
