Yet wheresoe'er my footsteps roam, Though boundless seas between us foam, Farewell to Scotland's sea-girt shore, Then breathe a prayer when I'm away, A. LINLEY. THE IRISH EMIGRANT. I'm sitting by the stile, Mary, where we sat side by side, On a bright May morning long ago, when first you were my bride. The corn was springing fresh and green, and the lark sang loud and high, And the red was on your lip, Mary, and the love-light in your eye. The place is little changed, Mary, the day is bright as then, The lark's loud song is in my ear, and the corn is green again; But I miss the soft clasp of your hand, and the breath warm on your cheek, And I still keep listening to the words you never more may speak. I'm very lonely now, Mary, for the poor make no new friends; But oh, they love the better still the few our Father sends. And you were all I had, Mary, my blessing and my pride; There's nothing left to care for now, since my poor Mary died. I'm bidding you a long farewell, my Mary kind and true; But I'll not forget you, darlin', in the land I'm going to. They say there's bread and work for all, and the sun shines always there; But I'll ne'er forget old Ireland, were it fifty times as fair. LADY DUFFERIN. GOOD NEWS FROM HOME. GOOD news from home, good news for me, For I have heard good news from home. Good news from home, &c. No father's near to guide me now, Good news from home, &c. When shall I see that cottage door, Good news from home, &c. N. S. GILMORE. 'To arms, to arms, your ensigns straight display, Now set the battle in array ;— The oracle for war declares, Success depends upon our hearts and spears. Britons, strike home! revenge your country's wrongs; Fight, and record yourselves in Druids' songs.' Old Song, 1696. Go sing it in song, and tell it in story, He went in his strength and returned in his glory. His foot's in the stirrup, his hand's on the mane, He is up and away ! ALLAN CUNNINGHAM. HARK! THE MERRY DRUM. HARK! the merry drum is sounding, See the charger proudly bounding, Eager for the coming fray. Forward march ! March! my comrades, on to glory, Long shall live renown'd in story, March, march! Forward march! Fare thee well, my joy and pleasure, Fare thee well! fare thee well! Welcome then the call of duty, Cheer'd by thoughts of home and beauty, Fare thee well! fare thee well! T. OLIPHANT. PIBROCH OF DONALD DHU. PIBROCH of Donuil Dhu, Gentles and commons. |