O Scotia! my dear, my native soil! For whom my warmest wish to Heaven is sent! Long may thy hardy sons of rustic toil Be blest with health, and peace, and sweet content! And, oh! may Heaven their simple lives prevent From luxury's contagion, weak and vile! Then, howe'er crowns and coronets be rent, A virtuous populace may rise the while, And stand a wall of fire around their much-lov'd Isle. O Thou! who pour'd the patriotic tide That stream'd through Wallace's undaunted heart; Who dared to nobly stem tyrannic pride, Or nobly die, the second glorious part, (The patriot's God peculiarly Thou art, His friend, inspirer, guardian, and reward!) O never, never, Scotia's realm desert; But still the patriot, and the patriot-bard, In bright succession raise, her ornament and guard. FOOTNOTES: [H] Inscribed to R. Aiken, Esq. [1] Moan. [2] Morrow. [3] Stagger. [4] Fluttering. [5] Fire-place. [6] Presently. [7] Drive, _i.e._, with shouting or calling. [8] Attentive. [9] Requiring judgment. [10] Brave, fine, handsome. [11] De'posite, _for_ depos'it. [12] Dear-won, hard-earned. [13] Money-wages. [14] Enquires. [15] _Unknown_ things, news. [16] Makes. [17] Diligent. [18] Trifle. [19] Half. [20] In, into the room. [21] Talks. [22] Bashful. [23] Unwilling, shy. [24] What is _left_, rest. [25] Sup; _here_, milk. [26] White-faced cow. [27] Partition wall. [28] Carefully kept. [29] Cheese. [30] Tasty. [31] Twelvemonth. [32] Since flax was in flower. [33] Hall-Bible. [34] Grey, greyish. [35] Temples, _here_ temple-locks. [36] Chooses. [37] Feeds, nourishes. XXIX. THE LAND O' THE LEAL. LADY NAIRN.--1766-1845. I'm wearin' awa', John, Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John, I'm wearin' awa' To the land o' the leal. There's nae sorrow there, John; There's neither cauld nor care, John; The day is aye fair In the land o' the leal. Our bonnie bairn's there, John; She was baith gude and fair, John; And oh! we grudg'd her sair To the land o' the leal. But sorrow's sel' wears past, John, And joy's a-comin' fast, John, The joy that's aye to last In the land o' the leal. Sae dear that joy was bought, John, Sae free the battle fought, John, That sinfu' man e'er brought To the land o' the leal. Oh! dry your glistening e'e, John, My soul langs to be free, John, And angels beckon me To the land o' the leal. Oh! haud ye leal and true, John, Your day it's wearin' through, John, And I'll welcome you To the land o' the leal. Now fare-ye weel, my ain John, This warld's cares are vain, John, We'll meet, and we'll be fain In the land o' the leal. * * * * *