Page:Fugitive Poetry 1600-1878.djvu/418

   To see his fireside, my friends,
    His ain fireside;
   May Heaven protect the rising sprouts
    Around his fireside.

Misfortune dour, wi' cauldrife stour,
 A neighbour may betide;
We'll edge a bit and let him sit
 Just next the fireside.
   Our ain fireside, my friends,
    Our ain fireside;
   May ne'er a cauld nor hungry heart
    Gae by your fireside.

And, oh, may He whose powerful arm
 The steps o' mortals guides,
Wi' health and wealth and length o' days
 Bless a' our firesides!
   Our ain firesides, my friends,
    Our ain firesides;
   The choicest blessings Heaven bestows
    Bless a' our firesides.

Back Again.

When Abercromby, gallant Scot,
 Made Britain's faes to tack again,
To fight by him it was my lot;
 But now I'm safe come back again.

The cannons didna Donald fleg,—
 I'd like to hear them crack again;
My fears were for my bonnie Meg,
 Lest I should ne'er come back again.

Our leader fell,—so died the brave,
 We'll never see his like again;
I was denied a soldier's grave,
 For I am safe come back again.

It's true they've ta'en frae me a leg,
 But wha for that would mak' a maen?
Cheer up your heart, my bonnie Meg,
 I've brought a leal heart back again.