An image should appear at this position in the text. To use the entire page scan as a placeholder, edit this page and replace "{{missing image}}" with "{{raw image|Scottishartrevie01unse.djvu/217}}". Otherwise, if you are able to provide the image then please do so. For guidance, see Wikisource:Image guidelines and Help:Adding images. |
THE gSAFORTH HIGHLANDERS. ONE OF THr MARIES.
A BALLADE OF KELVIN FAIR. FROM THE VERANDAH
SIC transit ! all the glorious show — The minarets of Kiibla Khan, Tliat brought an orient grace and glow Where Kelvin, sacred river, ran ; The tartan dome's unrestful span, The palace reared with nail and screw, The mighty maze without a plan. The gaudy bubble that we blew. No royal pageants come and go ; No more from Beersheba and Dan The motley medley, six a-row. Defiles the third-class caravan ; No longer clown and oppidan Beneath the Saracenic shoe Forego their solidi, to scan The gaudy bubble that we blew. THE BLUE HUNGARIANS And yet — cantate Domino ! — It served its turn for bliss or ban — This bait to make home coffers grow, And elevate our brother man With music (Blue Hungarian), The arts from Tay to Timbuctoo, The goods and gods from Hindustan- The gaudy bubble that we blew. City, the winter tempests fan The flames of discontent anew ; For these, it ends where it began — The gaudy bubble that we blew. Martin Quern.