suppressed stanza's of “the vision”
  after 18th stanza of the text (at “his native land”):—
  with secret throes i marked that earth,
  that cottage, witness of my birth;
  and near i saw, bold issuing forth
  in youthful pride,
  a lindsay race of noble worth,
  famed far and wide.
  where, hid behind a spreading wood,
  an ancient pict-built mansion stood,
  i spied, among an angel brood,
  a female pair;
  sweet shone their high maternal blood,
  and father's air.
  an ancient tower to memory brought
  how dettingen's bold hero fought;
  still, far from sinking into nought,
  it owns a lord
  who far in western climates fought,
  with trusty sword.
  among the rest i well could spy
  one gallant, graceful, martial boy,
  the soldier sparkled in his eye,
  a diamond water.
  i blest that noble badge with joy,
  that owned me frater.
  after 20th stanza of the text (at “dispensing good”):—
  near by arose a mansion fine
  the seat of many a muse divine;
  not rustic muses such as mine,
  with holly crown'd,
  but th' ancient, tuneful, laurell'd nine,
  from classic ground.
  i mourn'd the card that fortune dealt,
  to see where bonie whitefoords dwe<
  but other prospects made me melt,
  that village near;
  there nature, friendship, love, i felt,
  fond-mingling, dear!
  hail! nature's pang, more strong than death!
  warm friendship's glow, like kindling wrath!
  love, dearer than the parting breath
  of dying friend!
  not ev'n with life's wild devious path,
  your force shall end!
  the power that gave the soft alarms
  in blooming whitefoord's rosy charms,
  still threats the tiny, feather'd arms,
  the barbed dart,
  while lovely wilhelmina warms
  the coldest heart.
  after 21st stanza of the text (at “that, to adore”):—
  where lugar leaves his moorland plaid,
  where lately want was idly laid,
  i marked busy, bustling trade,
  in fervid flame,
  beneath a patroness' aid,
  of noble name.
  wild, countless hills i could survey,
  and countless flocks as wild as they;
  but other scenes did charms display,
  that better please,
  where polish'd manners dwell with gray,
  in rural ease.
  where cessnock pours with gurgling sound;
  and irwine, marking out the bound,
  enamour'd of the scenes around,
  slow runs his race,
  a name i doubly honour'd found,
  with knightly grace.
  brydon's brave ward, i saw him stand,
  fame humbly offering her hand,
  and near, his kinsman's rustic band,
  with one accord,
  lamenting their late blessed land
  must change its lord.
  the owner of a pleasant spot,
  near and sandy wilds, i last did note;
  a heart too warm, a pulse too hot
  at times, o'erran:
  but large in ev'ry feature wrote,
  appear'd the man.
  the rantin' dog, the daddie o't
  tune—“whare'll our guidman lie.”
  o wha my babie-clouts will buy?
  o wha will tent me when i cry?
  wha will kiss me where i lie?
  the rantin' dog, the daddie o't.
  o wha will own he did the faut?
  o wha will buy the groanin maut?
  o wha will tell me how to ca't?
  the rantin' dog, the daddie o't.
  when i mount the creepie-chair,
  wha will sit beside me there?
  gie me rob, i'll seek nae mair,
  the rantin' dog, the daddie o't.
  wha will crack to me my lane?
  wha will mak me fidgin' fain?
  wha will kiss me o'er again?
  the rantin' dog, the daddie o't.
  here's his health in water
  tune—“the job of journey-work.”
  altho' my back be at the wa',
  and tho' he be the fautor;
  altho' my back be at the wa',
  yet, here's his health in water.
  o wae gae by his wanton sides,
  sae brawlie's he could flatter;
  till for his sake i'm slighted sair,
  and dree the kintra clatter:
  but tho' my back be at the wa',
  and tho' he be the fautor;
  but tho' my back be at the wa',
  yet here's his health in water!