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No effeminate customs our sinews unbrace,
No luxurious tables enervate our race,
Our loud-sounding pipe bears the true martial strain,
So do we the old Scottish valour retain.

Such our love, 8c.

We're tall as the oak on the mount of the vale,
As swift as the roe which the hound doth assail,
As the full-moon in autumn our shields do appear,
Minerva would dread to encounter our spear.

Such our love, &c.

As a storm in the ocean when Boreas blows,
So are we enrag'd when we rush on our foes;
We sons of the mountains, tremendous as rocks,
Dash the force of our foes with our thundering

Such our love, &c.

Quebec and Cape Breton, the pride of old France,
In their troops fondly boasted till we did advance;
But when our claymores they saw us produce,
Their courage did fail, and they sued for a truce.

Such our love, &c.

In our realm may the fury of faction long cease,
May our councils be wise, and our commerce in-

crease ;

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And in Scotia's cold climate may each of us find, That our friends still prove true, and our beauties

prove kind.

Then we'll defend our liberty, our country, and

our laws, And teach our late posterity to fight in Free

dom's cause,

That they like our ancestors bold, &c.


AN' A'.

This air is the march of the Corporation of Tailors * The second and fourth stanzas mine.


Probably alluding to the custom of the Incorporations of the Royal Boroughs, in Scotland, perambulating annually the boundaries of their property.-Ed.


THERE is in several collections, the old song of Leader Haughs and Yarrow. It seems to have been the work of one of our itinerant minstrels, as he calls himself, at the conclusion of his song, Minstrel Burn.

When Phæbus bright, the azure skies

With golden rays enlight'neth,
He makes all Nature's beauties rise,

Herbs, trees, and flow'rs he quick’neth :
Amongst all those he makes his choice,

And with delight goes thorough,
With radiant beams and silver streams

O’er Leader-Haughs and Yarrow.

When Aries the day and night

In equal length divideth,
Auld frosty Saturn takes his flight,

Nae langer be abideth ;
Then Flora Queen, with mantle green,

Casts aff her former sorrow,
And vows to dwell with Ceres' sell,

In Leader-Haughs and Yarrow.


Pan playing on his aiten reed,

And shepherds him attending, Do here resort their flocks to feed,

The hills and haughs commending, With cur and kent upon the bent,

Sing to the sun, good-morrow, And swear nae fields mair pleasure yields

Than Leader-Haughs and Yarrow.

An house there stands on Leaderside,

Surmounting my descriving, With rooms sae rare, and windows fair,

Like Dedalus' contriving; Men passing by, do aften cry,

In sooth it hath nae marrow; It stands as sweat on Leaderside,

As Newark does on Yarrow.

A mile below wha lists to ride,

They'll hear the mavis singing; Into St. Leonard's banks she'll bide,

Sweet birks her head o’erhinging ; The lintwhite loud and Progne proud,

With tuneful throats and narrow, Into St. Leonard's banks they sing

As sweetly as in Yarrow.

The lapwing lilteth o'er the lee,

With nimble wing she sporteth;
But vows she'll flee far frae the tree

Where Philomel resorteth:
By break of day the lark can say,

I'll bid you a good-morrow,
I'll streek my wing, and mounting, sing

O’er Leader-Haughs and Yarrow.

Park, Wanton-waws, and Wooden-cleugh,

The East and Western Mainses, The wood of Lauder's fair enough,

The corns are good in Blainshes;
Where aits are fine, and sold by kind,

That if ye search all thorow
Mearns, Buchan, Mar, nane better are

Than Leader-Haughs and Yarrow.

In Burmill Bog, and Whiteslade Shaws,

The fearful hare she haunteth; Brig-haugh and Braidwoodshiel she knaws,

And Chapel-wood frequenteth ; Yet when she irks, to Kaidsly birks

She rins, and sighs for sorrow, That she should leave sweet Leader-Haughs,

And cannot win to Yarrow.

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