208
ROBERT BURNS.
Scotland (as a gem she wears it,)
Dowered with song his lowly birth,
And at last his meed, immortal,
Is the homage of the earth.
Pardon sins he sorrowed over,
He who light on daisies trod;
Say, "He was of man the lover,"—
Leave him to the love of God!
Dowered with song his lowly birth,
And at last his meed, immortal,
Is the homage of the earth.
Pardon sins he sorrowed over,
He who light on daisies trod;
Say, "He was of man the lover,"—
Leave him to the love of God!
Slow, but surely, comes the morning;
Lo! the east is flushed with rose,
And the wind so chill at dawning
With a warmer current blows.
Truth at last shall be the victor
Bearing Freedom in its van,
While the watchword on its banner
Is "The Brotherhood of Man."
Thrones and crowns and jeweled sceptres
Like forgotten toys will be;
Only he who loves his fellows
Shall the heights of honor see.
Then, recounting lives of heroes,
As their memory backward turns,
Truest Prophet, sweetest Singer,
Men shall reckon Robert Burns!
And King of Hearts he'll reign that day
While the noble throng around him;—
God be praised that a man has sway
And the wide world's love has crowned him!
Lo! the east is flushed with rose,
And the wind so chill at dawning
With a warmer current blows.
Truth at last shall be the victor
Bearing Freedom in its van,
While the watchword on its banner
Is "The Brotherhood of Man."
Thrones and crowns and jeweled sceptres
Like forgotten toys will be;
Only he who loves his fellows
Shall the heights of honor see.
Then, recounting lives of heroes,
As their memory backward turns,
Truest Prophet, sweetest Singer,
Men shall reckon Robert Burns!
And King of Hearts he'll reign that day
While the noble throng around him;—
God be praised that a man has sway
And the wide world's love has crowned him!
