The friendly crack, the cheerfu' sang,
Shall cheat the happy hours awa',
Gar pleasure reign the e'ening lang,
And laugh at biting frost and snaw.
Blythe are we, &c.
The cares that cluster round the heart,
And gar the bosom stound wi' pain,
Shall get a fright afore we part,
Will gar them fear to come again.
Then, fill about, my winsome chiels,
The sparkling glass will banish pine:
Nae pain the happy bosom feels,
Sae free o' care as yours and mine.
Blythe are we, &c.
The land for me.
[Written by J. Hedderwick, Junr., editor of "The Glasgow Citizen" Newspaper.—Music by S. Barr.]
I've been upon the moonlit deep,
When the wind had died away,
And like an ocean god asleep,
The bark majestic lay;
But lovelier is the varied scene,
The hill, the lake, the tree,
When bathed in light of midnight's queen,
The land! the land! for me.
The glancing waves I've glided o'er
When gently blew the breeze;
But sweeter was the distant shore,
The zephyr 'mang the trees.
The murmur of the mountain rill,
The blossoms waving free,
The song of birds on every hill,
The land! the land! for me.
The billows I have been among,
When they roll'd in mountains dark,
And night her blackest curtain hung
Around our heaving bark;
But give me when the storm is fierce,
My home and fireside glee,
Where winds may howl, but dare not pierce,
The land! the land! for me.
And when around the lightning flash'd,
I've been upon the deep,
And to the gulf beneath I've dash'd
Adown the liquid steep;
But now that I am safe on shore,
There let me ever be;
The sea let others wander o'er,
The land! the land! for me.
If on earth.
[Air, "We'll meet beside the dusky glen."—This appeared in a small collection with the signature "Mrs. J. S., Rutherglen."]
If on earth there is enjoyment,
'Tis our ain fireside,
Though the mind has its employment,
At our ain fireside;
Our bairnies round us twine,
Like the ivy or the vine,
Wi' looks sae sweet and kin'
At our ain fireside.
Yet we're no without our toil,
At our ain fireside,
Care mixes wi' the smile,
At our ain fireside;
But wi' hearts sae leal an' true,
We hope to wuddle through
Life's linked and ravelled clew,
At our ain fireside.
But when our bairns are up,
At our ain fireside,
They'll be our stay and prop,
At our ain fireside;
Wi' filial love and care,
They will a' our pleasures share,
And our age they will revere,
At our ain fireside.
Though we ha'e nae muckle wealth,
At our ain fireside,
Yet wi' sweet content and health,
At our ain fireside;
We envy not a king,
For riches canna bring
The blessings we can sing,
At our ain fireside.
