The Austrian Vine, the Prussian Pine (For Blucher’s sake, hurra that), The Spanish Olive, too, shall join, And bloom in peace for a’ that. Stout Russia’s Hemp, so surely twined Around our wreath we’ll draw that, And he that would the cord unbind, Shall have it for his gra-vat! Or, if to choke sae puir a sot, Your pity scorn to thaw that The Devil’s elbow be his lot, Where he may sit and claw that. In spite of slight, in spite of might, In spite of brags and a’ that, The lads that battled for the right Have won the day, and a’ that! There’s ae bit spot I had forgot, America they ca’ that! A coward plot her rats had got Their father’s flag to gnaw that: Now see it fly top-gallant high, Atlantic winds shall blaw that, And Yankee loon, beware your croun, There’s kames in hand to claw that! For on the land or on the sea, Where’er the breezes blaw that, The British Flag shall bear the grie, And win the day for a’ that. WALTER SCOTT. ―――― TO WOMEN OF THE PERIOD. Is it because she cannot rule, That curls her lip and a’ that? Such froward dame is but a fool, And shames her sex for a’ that! For a’ that and a’ that, Poor worldly fame and a’ that, She strives but for a gilded badge, Herself’s the gold for a’ that. What though we will not let her vote, “Electioneer” and a’ that; ’Tis best that man should wear the coat, The “breeches,” vest, and a’ that. For a’ that and a’ that, She’s but a “rib” for a’ that! Man’s work requires a man complete, Not “half” a man for a’ that. She does not need Newmarket tribe, The walking-stick and a’ that; They but expose to jest and gibe The cause they plead and a’ that. For a’ that and a’ that, Their wrongs and rights and a’ that, The woman who respects herself, Just looks and laughs at a’ that. “Master Henpeck,” give a lady place, At vestry boards and a’ that; But she with bonnie modest face, Will stay at home for a’ that. For a’ that and a’ that. “Equality” and a’ that, She was not made to rush and race, And elbow man for a’ that. The hearth and home are woman’s sphere, Her proper place and a’ that; Where she may bear and nurse and rear, The “Babes of Grace” and a’ that. For a’ that and a’ that, She shows most sense and a’ that. Who wins and wears the rank and name, Of mother, wife, and a’ that. ANONYMOUS. ――――:o:―――― THE BALLAD OF SIR T. TEA-LEAF. (_Being a humble Parallel to the Ballad of Sir John Barleycorn._)