Let niggard bodies miss our joy— Is never love or labour lost. Then of our Day let's make the most ;— THE LAND EVER DEAREST TO ME. AIR." Not the Swan on the Lake." I SING of that land ever dearest to me, O, who would not love thee, dear land of my sires! CHORUS Then hey for that country that never was slow To strike for the right a good death-dealing blow! When "Scotland" the toast is, and quaichs in full flow, Who would not squab as with a hearty hurro? From Rome's baffled legions to Edward's proud host And only to rue it shall foe ever dare On her rights to encroach, or her welfare to mar, What patriot, striking for freedom and right, Can match with such heroes as Ellerslie's Knight, The Randolph, the Douglas, the Bruce and the Græme? The bare thought of their deeds sets my blood in a flame! Then hey, &c. Who knows not how stoutly, when Truth did require, Spite the prelate, the priest, and the devil combined! Just think of her minstrels-a glorious throng! Alas for the foeman who hastes not to yield When" shoulder to shoulder" the Clans take the field! When duty demands them their might to display, The Titans might envy their deeds in the fray. Then hey, &c. O Albyn! my country so brave and so blest, 'Tis on thy dear bosom I'd take my last rest; Oh, living or dying, give, give me to dwell 'Mid the music or streams, in some green Highland dell! Then hey, &c. AVICH'S FAIRY BOWER. The following song was suggested by an old favourite fairy 66 luinneag," the chorus of which runs thus :- "Am bun a chruidh cha chaidil mi, Am bun a chruidh cha bhi mi; Am bun a chruidh cha chaidil mi, 'S mo leabaidh anns an t-sithean." The luinneag in question had its origin in a superstition not yet entirely dead in the Scottish Highlands, where for a pretty, mortal maiden to be wooed by a “leannan-sith -a courtship often ending by her being charmed away into some nearby abode of the "good people," never again to revisit her own home—was, up to the beginning of the present century, quite a popular belief among "the sea divided Gael" of both Ireland and Scotland. IN vain to me shews Beltane fair CHORUS Ochoin a righ for Annie O, Sweet Annie of Glengower! Woe's me to think of Annie O They met her in the gloaming grey Near Dovan's warlock tower, Syne witched her with their music gay Ochoin a righ, &c. Where oft together herding kye To tempt her stay, the fay folk may With endless youth and beauty both, Ochoin a righ, &c. O that old Merlin's magic key Ochoin a righ, &c. THE LAND OF THE GREEN MAPLE LEAF. Of all the fair lands you can name, boys, A patriot land well may be, boys, That land of bright annals, though brief: Whoever would feel truly free, boys, Should live 'neath the Green Maple Leaf. To praises of moorlands and mountains His home by the Green Maple Leaf. He here who a bachelor liveth May well be set down for a "cuif," Well shunned by each darling who giveth Love's kiss 'neath theGreen Maple Leaf. The heart that is proof to such graces As theirs, must be hard as a reef;Let's hope that such desperate cases Are rare 'neath the Green Maple Leaf. In Lords and their lackeys dependant "Tis well that our list is but brief; The homage on tinsel attendant They'd miss 'neath the Green Maple Leaf. Where Autumn the toils of the plough man Rewards with a fifty-fold sheaf, The true lords of the soil are our yeomen Who guard well the Green Maple Leaf. |