Bess the Gawkie (1828)/Again the wish'd for festive hour

AGAIN THE WISH'D-FOR FESTIVE HOUR.

Again the wish'd-for festive hour,
⁠Revolving time returns;
Again our tribute out we pour,
⁠Unto the name of Burns.
⁠Then as we quaff the cheering gloes,
⁠In bumpers flowing high,
⁠His deathless fame let us proclaim,
⁠And drain the goblet dry.

Each manly virtue which alone,
⁠The human breast adorns,
Combin'd with beaming lustre shone,
⁠Within the breast of Burns.
⁠Then as we quaff, &c.

The man to bend at Fortune's shrine,
⁠For Fortune's favour scorns,
While Independence rules his mind,
⁠A brother had in Burns.
⁠Then as we quaff, &c.

To act the selfish hireling's end,
⁠His free-born bosom spurn'd;
The patriot true, his country's friend,
⁠Reveres the name of Burns.
⁠Then as we quaff, &c.

And he, who with a heart sincere,
⁠A brother's sorrow mourns,
Will drop a sympathetic tear,
⁠Upon the grave of Burns.
⁠Then let us quaff, &c.

So while auld Nature's laws prevail,
⁠The earth on her axis turns,
May Scotiá's sons with rapture hail,
⁠The natal day of Burrs.
⁠Then let us quaff, &c.

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