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Article Poetry. Page 1 of 1 Article I SING OF THE LAND OF AULD SCOTLAND. Page 1 of 1
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
Poetry .
That youth in sportive glee perchance With virgin throngs partook the dance . Or woke the flute ' s harmonious power , In early life ' s ecstatic hour : Now hath the parted spirit flown To other lands ancl shores unknown ; But notas vainldeem'dto gain
, y , The fabled groves that Moslems feign , The milder air and sunny skies Of that mistaken paradise , Where Spring ' s fair gifts unceasing prove , And houries breathe eternal love .
But whither strays the muse ? Unmeet For her the solemn theme to treat , Nor given to mortals here below All that concerns their lot to know . That secret , at the final hour , Shall be reveal'd by heavenly power , Whenat the trumpet ' s awful sound
, , The dead shall quit the rifted ground ; When lowest depths of earth and sea Shall , at th' Almighty ' s just decree , In wilder tumult rage and roar , And time itself shall be no more .
Cease , venturous muse ! Thy crime were great To scrutinize mysterious fate ; To soar on feeble wings like thine , 'Mid tracks obscure and ways Divine . N . L . TORRE , D . P . G . M . for Warwickshire .
I Sing Of The Land Of Auld Scotland.
I SING OF THE LAND OF AULD SCOTLAND .
Tune— " Fye , let us a' to the bridaV I sing of the land of Auld Scotland , Where pinewoods in . majesty wave , Her rocks the abode of the eagle—Her dwellings the homes of the brave ! Our fathers !—they feared no invader ,
For quickly the sword or the gun , With hands that could wield them were ready , To fight for the fields they had won ! Then hey ! for the land of the heather , The land of the hill and the glen , The land of the soft-blooming maidens , And the land of the true-hearted men !
Note: This text has been automatically extracted via Optical Character Recognition (OCR) software.
Poetry.
Poetry .
That youth in sportive glee perchance With virgin throngs partook the dance . Or woke the flute ' s harmonious power , In early life ' s ecstatic hour : Now hath the parted spirit flown To other lands ancl shores unknown ; But notas vainldeem'dto gain
, y , The fabled groves that Moslems feign , The milder air and sunny skies Of that mistaken paradise , Where Spring ' s fair gifts unceasing prove , And houries breathe eternal love .
But whither strays the muse ? Unmeet For her the solemn theme to treat , Nor given to mortals here below All that concerns their lot to know . That secret , at the final hour , Shall be reveal'd by heavenly power , Whenat the trumpet ' s awful sound
, , The dead shall quit the rifted ground ; When lowest depths of earth and sea Shall , at th' Almighty ' s just decree , In wilder tumult rage and roar , And time itself shall be no more .
Cease , venturous muse ! Thy crime were great To scrutinize mysterious fate ; To soar on feeble wings like thine , 'Mid tracks obscure and ways Divine . N . L . TORRE , D . P . G . M . for Warwickshire .
I Sing Of The Land Of Auld Scotland.
I SING OF THE LAND OF AULD SCOTLAND .
Tune— " Fye , let us a' to the bridaV I sing of the land of Auld Scotland , Where pinewoods in . majesty wave , Her rocks the abode of the eagle—Her dwellings the homes of the brave ! Our fathers !—they feared no invader ,
For quickly the sword or the gun , With hands that could wield them were ready , To fight for the fields they had won ! Then hey ! for the land of the heather , The land of the hill and the glen , The land of the soft-blooming maidens , And the land of the true-hearted men !