Poems, on sacred and other subjects and songs, humorous and sentimental: By the late William Watt. Third edition of the songs only--with additional songs |
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 | Poems, on sacred and other subjects |  |
75
THE GLORIOUS BARD OF KYLE.
Fair Scotia, frae her mountain throne,
Looks down, wi' smiling e'e,
To see her children every one
In harmony agree;
While countless thousands onward move,
In ecstacy divine,
To show'r their wreaths of warmest love
On Burns's hallow'd shrine.
Looks down, wi' smiling e'e,
To see her children every one
In harmony agree;
While countless thousands onward move,
In ecstacy divine,
To show'r their wreaths of warmest love
On Burns's hallow'd shrine.
CHORUS.
Then swell his praise, in lofty lays,Throughout our happy isle,
For Scotia's boast, frae coast to coast,
Is the glorious Bard of Kyle.
His was the independent soul,
The warm and manly heart,
To spurn the haughty tyrant's scowl,
Or brave misfortune's smart;
His magic lays transcendent blaze
'Mid the poetic throng;
Sic peerless fire flows from his lyre
As hails him king of song.
The warm and manly heart,
To spurn the haughty tyrant's scowl,
Or brave misfortune's smart;
His magic lays transcendent blaze
'Mid the poetic throng;
Sic peerless fire flows from his lyre
As hails him king of song.
He sang the peasant's happy cot,
The lover's joys and woes;
The patriot's flame, wi' loud acclaim,
He nobly did disclose;
Hypocrisy oft felt his lash,
Wi' downcast tearfu' e'e,
While round his brilliant wit did flash
Wi' comic mirth and glee.
The lover's joys and woes;
The patriot's flame, wi' loud acclaim,
He nobly did disclose;
Hypocrisy oft felt his lash,
Wi' downcast tearfu' e'e,
While round his brilliant wit did flash
Wi' comic mirth and glee.
Though mony shine wi' twinkling light,
Or flash wi' comet glare,
Then dimly blink through darksome night,
Or vanish evermair;
Yet Burns's name, and Burns's fame,
Beam like the blazing sun,
And down the tide of time will glide
Till her last sands are run.
Or flash wi' comet glare,
Then dimly blink through darksome night,
Or vanish evermair;
Yet Burns's name, and Burns's fame,
Beam like the blazing sun,
And down the tide of time will glide
Till her last sands are run.
| Poems, on sacred and other subjects | |