Let the story, the toast, the speech, an' the sang, An' the glass tak' their coorse roun' the table; Though it mayna be muckle that ilk yin can dae, At least let him dae what he's able. Tae help in the cause we a' hae at hert Let's toast it afore we disperse-- That brithers we'll be on the land an' the sea, Embracing the hale universe. WELCOME HOME. _TO DEMOBILISED SOLDIERS._ Welcome home! brave sons of Scotland, From the far-flung battle line; Welcome home to peaceful labour In the workshop, field, and mine! Welcome to our social functions, Free from war with all its ills! Welcome to our love and friendship, And your native glens and hills. You have nobly done your duty; Firm and steadfast you have been In the most terrific conflict That the world has ever seen; Daring death within the trenches, Daring death from out the blue, In the mighty charge and carnage, Strong in motive, brave, and true. You have earned a grateful nation's Thanks for giants' work well done; You have helped to crush the despot In the vict'ry that's been won-- Victory that cost your kindred Heavy toll in blood and tears. Forget you? No, we will not, Though we live a thousand years. Mourn not for your comrades fallen On the field or in the deep: Realise 'tis sinful calling Them from glory or from sleep. Tyranny no more can grieve them, Broken every galling chain; They have gone to serve the Master On a brighter, higher plane. A DAY DREAM. Prone by the side of a moorland road, Soothed by the green of the velvet sod; I dream of the time when war shall cease, And a weary world will be at peace; Of a time when the mind of man will recoil From the lust of gain and from needless toil; When honour and love will ne'er be sold For worldly power or the gain of gold; When man shall arise and cast aside Corrupting wealth, with its pomp and pride, And a system that's long been tried in vain, That breeds the worst in the hearts of men: When the shadow of want shall be chased away That darkens the home of the poor to-day, And the fruits of the earth, at the harvest fall, Will be gathered and used for the good of all; When the babe shall be tended and ope' like the flower That so sweetly blooms in my lady's bower; And the maimed and the old with the silvery hair Shall be treated in love with the tenderest care; When the spirit of brotherhood shall command From the Arctic Zone to the Coral Strand; And the flag of freedom will wave on high On every land beneath the sky. DEDICATED TO WANLOCK SOLDIERS. Away from the head of the Wanlock Glen, Where nurtured you were to the status of men, You marched when the heather was shedding its bloom, With the war song of freedom, your spirits in tune.