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TONE-POETRY OF ROBERT BURNS
Then worthy Glenriddel, so cautious and sage, No longer the warfare ungodly would wage ; A high ruling-elder to wallow in wine! He left the foul business to folks less divine.
The gallant Sir Robert fought hard to the end; But who can with Fate and quart-bumpers contend? Though Fate said, ' A hero should perish in light:' So up rose bright Phoebus—and down fell the knight.
Next up rose our Bard, like a prophet in drink:— ' Craigdarroch, thou'll soar when creation shall sink ; But if thou would flourish immortal in rhyme, Come—one bottle more—and have at the sublime I
'Thy line, that have struggled for Freedom with Bruce,
Shall heroes and patriots ever produce:
So thine be the laurel, and mine be the bay;
The field thou hast won, by yon bright god of day!'
No. 230. Ye sons of old Killie.
Tune : Over the water to Charlie (see infra).
Ye sons of old Killie, assembled by Willie
To follow the noble vocation, Your thrifty old mother has scarce such another
To sit in that honored station. I've little to say, but only to pray,—
As praying's the ton of your fashion— A prayer from the Muse you well may excuse—
'Tis seldom her favourite passion :—
'Ye powers who preside o'er the wind and the tide,
Who marked each element's border, Who formed this frame with beneficent aim,
Whose sovereign statute is order:— Within this dear mansion may wayward Contention
Or withered Envy ne'er enter ; May secrecy round be the mystical bound
And brotherly Love be the centre!'