The poetical works of William Nicholson With a memoir by Malcolm M'L. Harper ... Fourth edition |
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Song for the North Briton's Society, Liverpool. |
 | The poetical works of William Nicholson |  |
Song for the North Briton's Society, Liverpool.
November win's blaw loud and chill,
The bird chirms o'er the leafless tree;
The wintry blast is comin' fast,
And loudly roars the restless sea:
Yet blythe, blythe, and merry we'll be,
Cauld and care we'll fling awa',
This is but a'e night in our lives,
And wha could grudge though it were twa.
The bird chirms o'er the leafless tree;
The wintry blast is comin' fast,
And loudly roars the restless sea:
Yet blythe, blythe, and merry we'll be,
Cauld and care we'll fling awa',
This is but a'e night in our lives,
And wha could grudge though it were twa.
We're met to drink our mither's health,
Yon carlin by the heugh and cairn;
What though auld Scotland's hills be bleak,
She's fostered mony a wally bairn.
Sae blythe, blythe and merry we'll be,
Scotia's sons we're ane and a';
This is, &c.
Yon carlin by the heugh and cairn;
What though auld Scotland's hills be bleak,
She's fostered mony a wally bairn.
Sae blythe, blythe and merry we'll be,
Scotia's sons we're ane and a';
This is, &c.
It makes na here for garb or gear,
We look to mind and manly worth;
Dishonour blast the pridefu' wight,
Wha scorns his frien's or land o' birth:
Dull, dull and dowie be he,
Gout and vapours round him draw;
Thus let him hoard his worthless wealth,
And social mirth be far awa.
We look to mind and manly worth;
Dishonour blast the pridefu' wight,
Wha scorns his frien's or land o' birth:
Dull, dull and dowie be he,
Gout and vapours round him draw;
Thus let him hoard his worthless wealth,
And social mirth be far awa.
198
Far foreign climes may shew their vines,
Their myrtle bowers, or orange tree;
As proud our doughty thistle waves,
For Caledon has aye been free.
Blythe, blythe and merry are we,
Liberty's the best o't a',
This is, &c.
Their myrtle bowers, or orange tree;
As proud our doughty thistle waves,
For Caledon has aye been free.
Blythe, blythe and merry are we,
Liberty's the best o't a',
This is, &c.
Oh! leeze me on her lanely glens,
Where gushing floods roar o'er the linn;
Her greensward howes, and echoing shores,
Where pibrochs wake a glorious din.
Blythe, blythe and halesome are they,
Our ain strathspeys they best can blaw;
This is, &c.
Where gushing floods roar o'er the linn;
Her greensward howes, and echoing shores,
Where pibrochs wake a glorious din.
Blythe, blythe and halesome are they,
Our ain strathspeys they best can blaw;
This is, &c.
When gloamin' spreads her sober grey,
By broomy Orr, or birken Dee,
Sic scenes can soothe the festering mind,
Aboon a' pleasures art can gie.
Blythe, blythe and merry are we;
The heart aye bows to nature's law;
This is, &c.
By broomy Orr, or birken Dee,
Sic scenes can soothe the festering mind,
Aboon a' pleasures art can gie.
Blythe, blythe and merry are we;
The heart aye bows to nature's law;
This is, &c.
England has daughters fair and gay,
Smooth, red and white, as maids need be;
But aft they want the native notes
And speaking glance o' Leezie's e'e.
Blythe, blythe and bonny are they;
Here's Scotlan's lasses ane and a';
This is, &c.
Smooth, red and white, as maids need be;
But aft they want the native notes
And speaking glance o' Leezie's e'e.
Blythe, blythe and bonny are they;
Here's Scotlan's lasses ane and a';
This is, &c.
Here's Byron's health, the chief o' bards,
Here's Burns's memory (three times three),
Wi' a' the rest o' tunefu' train,
Frae Homer down to hamely me.
Blythe, blythe and merry were they;
Fill your glasses, toast them a';
Unto the last night o' our lives
We winna let their memory fa'.
Here's Burns's memory (three times three),
199
Frae Homer down to hamely me.
Blythe, blythe and merry were they;
Fill your glasses, toast them a';
Unto the last night o' our lives
We winna let their memory fa'.
| The poetical works of William Nicholson | |