To Arms!

Song. Recruiting Call.

Arise! Arise! Britannia's sons! And forward go with flag unfurled, And help to crush this murderous Power That seeks to dominate the world.

Arise and answer to the call, And strike for freedom and the name Of manhood 'gainst a foe that's lost Alike to honour and to shame!

Then dauntless let your courage be Upon the land, upon the sea; Blood of the innocent cries to you For vengeance on the fiendish crew.

Fear not to fight, fear not to die In the dear cause of Liberty; Then righteousness shall be your guard, The God of justice will reward.

THE HAPPY LOVER.

Song. In light vein.

'Twas in the guid auld simmer time, When birdies sang sae cheery O, Yae nicht I busket in my best, An' gaed tae meet my dearie O.

CHORUS.

Singin' fal the dal, fal the didle al; Singin' fal the doo a di dee O.

I met her comin' ower the muir, I was richt gled tae see her O; I kissed her twenty times an' mair Afore that I wad free her O.

CHORUS.

Her dainty heid weel filled wi' sense Aneath her cockernonie O; Her hair the jet, her e'e the slae, Her rosy cheeks sae bonnie O.

CHORUS.

Her lips sae sweet, her chin sae neat Her teeth sae white an' pearly O, Her form the fairest o' the fair, Her voice jist like the merlie O.

CHORUS.

We'll yokit be at Martimas, Tae pu' thro' life thegither O; That happy nicht we'll ever mind Amang the bloomin' heather O.

CHORUS.

NEVER SEEN MORE.

Song. 1st Verse, Old Song.

Some die when they're young and some live to old age; Man is a play-actor, this world is a stage; Each one plays his part, and when it is o'er The Curtain drops down and he's never seen more.

He toils from the rise till the set of the sun, And the shadows come down ere his labour is done; Still he holds on his way till his harvest is o'er, Then the Curtain drops down and he's never seen more.

O, man breathes to live, and he lives but to die; His life's a short dream, with eternity nigh; His joys and his sorrows are very soon o'er, For the Curtain drops down and he's never seen more.

As we go thro' this world let us fight the good fight, Let us help one another and do what is right. If we all do our best there's naught to deplore When the Curtain drops down and we're never seen more.

WANLOCK'S BUIRDLY ROBIN.

To ROBERT WANLOCK REID, born in Wanlockhead, 1850.

Song. Tune, "Neil Gow."

Up in the sooth whaur chill win's blaw, An' aft betide rain, rowk an' snaw, 'Twas there the advent did befa' O' Wanlock's Buirdly Robin.