BRUCE'S ADDRESS TO HIS ARMY.
By R. Burns.
Scors, wha hae wi' Wallace bled;
Scots, whom Bruce has often led;
Welcome to your gory bed,
Or to victory.
Now's the day, and now's the hour;
See the front of battle lour;
See approach proud Edward's power-
Chains and slavery!
Wha will be a traitor knave?
Wha will fill a coward's grave?
Wha sae base as be a slave?
Let him turn and flee!
Wha for Scotland's king and law,
Freedom's sword will strongly draw,
Freemen stand, or freemen fa',
Let him follow me!
By oppression's woes and pains!
By our sons in servile chains!
We will drain our dearest veins,
But they shall be free!
Lay the proud usurpers low!
Tyrants fall in every foe!
Liberty's in every blow!
Let us do or die!
ALL'S WELL.-By Dibdin.
DESERTED by the waning moon,
When skies proclaim night's cheerless noon,
On tower, fort, or tented ground,
The sentry walks his lonely round,
The sentry walks his lonely round,
The sentry walks, &c.
And should a footstep haply stray,
Where caution marks the guarded way,
Where caution marks the guarded way,
The guarded way-
Who goes there? Stranger-quickly tell!
A friend the word-good night,
All's well! all's well!
The word good night-all's well.
Or sailing on the midnight deep,
While weary messmates soundly sleep,
The careful watch patroles the deck,
To guard the ship from foes or wreck,
To guard the ship from foes or wreck,
To guard the ship, &c.
And while his thoughts oft homeward veer,
Some friendly voice salutes his ear,
Some friendly voice salutes his ear,
Salutes his ear-
What cheer, brother? quickly tell!
Above-below-good night;
All's well! all's well!
Above-below-all, all's well.
AULD LANG SYNE.-By Mrs. Bringhurst. On years have flown since first we met, And sorrows have been mine! I've often thought with fond regret,
On auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne;
We'll take a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
I felt, when to thy bosom press'd,
That greater joys were mine,
Than e'er my youthful heart had known ;
In auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, &c.
Though fortune points thy path of life
Far, far away from mine;
The hour may be when next we meet,
An auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, &c.
Then fare thee well; if thou art bless'd,
Thy friend will not repine;
But some time give a kindly thought
To auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, &c.
JOCKEY TO, THE FAIR.
"Twas on the morn of sweet May day,
When nature painted all things gay,
Taught birds to sing and lambs to play,
And gild the meadows rare;
Young Jockey, early in the dawn,
Arose and tript it o'er the lawn;
His Sunday coat the youth put on,
For Jenny had vow'd away to run
With Jockey to the fair.
The cheerful parish bells had rung, With eager steps he trudg'd along; With flowery garlands round him hung, Which shepherds us'd to wear :
He tapp'd the window-haste, my dearJenny, impatient, cried, who's there? 'Tis I, my love, and no one near,
Step gently down, you've nought to fear,
With Jockey to the fair.
My dad and mamma's fast asleep,
My brother's up and with the sheep,
And will you still your promise keep
Which I have heard you swear?
And will you ever constant prove?
I will by all the powers of love,
And ne'er deceive my charming dove:
Dispel these doubts, and haste, my love,
With Jockey to the fair.
Behold the ring! the shepherd cried,
Will Jenny be my charining bride?
Let Cupid be our happy guide,
And Hymen meet us there.
Then Jockey did his vows renew,
He would be constant-would be true:
His word was pledged-away she flew,
O'er cowslip tipt with balmy dew,
With Jockey to the fair.
In raptures meet the jovial throng,
Their gay companions blithe and young:
Each join the dance, each join the song,
And hail the happy day:
Return'd, there's none so fond as they,
They bless'd the kind propitious day,
The smiling morn of blooming May,
When lovely Jenny ran away
With Jockey to the fair.
TUNE-"Auld Lang Syne.
SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
The friend that's true remember'd not,
And days o' auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
We never can forget,
When dangers press'd and foes drew near,
Our friend was La Fayette.
When first our fathers bravely drew
'Gainst tyrants and their laws,
On wings of generous zeal he flew,
To aid the holy cause.
For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.
He stemm'd the broad Atlantic wave,
He vow'd they should be free,
He led the bravest of the brave,
To death or victory.
For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.
Let Brandywine his glory tell,
And Monmouth loud acclaim;
Let York in triumph proudly swell
The measure of his fame.
For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.
Shall sons of freedom e'er forget,
Till time shall cease to move,
The debt they owe to La Fayette,
Of gratitude and love?
For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.
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