1*51 k; SONGS AND MISCELLANEOUS POEMS By JOHN IMRIE With an Introduction by G. MERCER ADAM and Biographical Sketch by ALEXANDER FRASER TORONTO : PRESS OF THE IMRIE PRINTING CO., LIMITED 1906 Entered according: to Act of Parliament of Canada in the year 1906, by THE IMRIK PRINTING Co., LIMITED, in the Office of the Minister of Agriculture. CONTENTS INTRODUCTION, BY G. MERCER ADAM . . . . 5 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH, BY ALEX. FRASER . . 7 PATRIOTIC 21 SCOTTISH SELECTIONS ...... 33 LOVE, HOME AND FRIENDSHIP . . . . ]QJ SACRED COMPOSITIONS .... 145 MISCELLANEOUS . . 1^0 SONNETS 289 ALPHABETICAL INDEX INTRODUCTION TO FIRST EDITION By G. MERCER ADAM AMONG the diverse interests of this restless money- grubbing world, there is one which should hold a larger place than it does in the affections of the masses, namely, the honest, unaffected love of home and home pleasures. In these days we are all of us too much disposed to seek enjoyment abroad, and to figure more than is good for us in the eye pf the public. The craving for excitement has made us impatient with home, and the fireside and domestic shrines have in large measure lost their attraction. We are no longer satisfied with the novel, with the song or with the play, that used to delight our forefathers; nothing so simple and innocent would now content us. Even our religion has suffered a change. The stern morality and unbending creeds of other days have become pliant and yielding, while compromise and emascu- lated beliefs have taken their place. The old doctrines familiar to the by-gone pulpit now offend us, though we are not particular if the preacher resorts to irrever- ence and slang, on the contrary, we rather encourage him in this propensity. With tastes and cravings so destructive to the spiritual life, what wonder that simple joys and quiet domestic pleasures have in the social world lost much of their charm? Yet "the common people," as the phrase goes, the men and women who are doing the every-day work of this toiling world, stand more than ever in need of rest and quiet, and the kindly solace- ment of happy fireside intercourse. Innocent delights, restful pleasures, and the blissful contentment of a well- ordered, comfortable home, with such intellectual recreations as these Edens afford, must be the necessi- ties, we should think, of these at least whose lot is a G ? INTRODUCTION ceaseless round of toil. To such our author comes with his tuneful lyre and sings us the gladsome lays of the home and the fireside. Benefactor is he not, to you and to me, if he beguiles us from our distractions and cares, and leads us to realize that, after all, the world's happiness lies in the quiet comforts and refining in- fluences of home? It would indeed be difficult for thoughts, however expressed, on Love, Friendship, Home, and kindred topics, to fail of finding response in the human breast, and the average reader who follows the bent of his own unperverted taste, and is as indifferent to the critics as the poets themselves, will find much to please him in the book. Of profit he should also find much, if his sympathies are as keen and broad as the author's, and his appreciation equal to his, of the warm-hearted Christian brotherhood, and unaffected moral purpose, which should find expression in all our work. Not its least merit, it must be said, is the fact that there is not a puzzling or baffling line in the book. This should be counted for something, when there is so much in our modern verse, not ambitious of fame merely, but cold, meaningless and empty. The volume is chiefly noteworthy, however, not only for unassum- ing sincerity on the part of the writer, but for its appeal to the universal and easily-awakened feelings of our common humanity. The unobtrusive piety and strain of religious sentiment which run, like threads of gold, through the book, will, we are sure, not the less en- dear the volume to the reverent reader, and to those whose hearts have felt the influences of the Divine. May it be its mission to keep alive the love of home, to minister to minds distraught with toil and care, and among its readers we trust, of all ranks and conditions of men to implant an eternal Sabbath in the heart. 184 Spadina Avenue, Toronto, Ont. BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH OF THE AUTHOR By ALEXANDER FRASER Provincial Archivist of Ontario JOHN IMRIE was born on the 28th of May, 1846, at No. 46 George Street, Glasgow, and to Scottish- Canadians it will be interesting to state that within a few yards of this house Sir John A. Macdonald, the great Canadian leader, was born. Mr. Imrie came of Celtic race. His grandfather, James Imrie, was a native of Perthshire, who settled in Glasgow. His son James, born in Glasgow, married Margaret Mills, daughter of James Mills, of an Aberdeenshire family, whose son Matthew Mills came to Canada and, settling at Fergus, Ontario, was one of the many Aberdeenshire settlers to whose enterprise that part of the country owes its rapid development and remarkable prosperity. James Imrie and Margaret Mills had eight children, those who survived infancy being Grace, John and James. To those who believe in hereditary influences, are here the sources of character for which John Imrie, the Scottish-Canadian poet, was distinguished the Celtic temperament modified by the practical traits of the Aberdonian, and both influenced by the wider daily issues of life in the stirring commercial metropolis of Scotland. John Imrie's boyhood days were surround- ed by many advantages. Born to no affluence, the home was comfortable and singularly happy. His parents were noted for their piety, and the children were tended with all the care and affection which could be bestowed by those who earnestly promoted the religious as well as the secular interests of their chil- dren. The father was industrious, methodical and prudent; the mother diligent, thrifty and a good domestic manager. With her, cleanliness was next to 8 " BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH godliness, and her household was the full pride of her heart. The father was an intelligent reader of books and took pains to direct the reading of his children aright. A brother, also a John Imrie, was a bookseller in Blackfriars' Street, and from his shop books for the young people were easily procured, the selection being always made according to a plan of study, whether in fiction, poetry, history or biography. On these years of childhood the poet loved to dwell, for in the humble, well-ordered home he realized the influences that were at work for the formation of character, just as truly as did Burns when he penned his immortal "Cottar's Saturday Night." The home-life of Scotland has been the foundation of the nation's greatness. Not at the penny weddings of their time, nor on the football fields were the Water- loos of Scotland's sons and daughters won. The ingle- neuk before which the family circle gathered to close a day of honest toil in innocent mirth or homely handi- craft, crowned by the reverent worship of God as a prelude to the night's peaceful repose, is the palladium of Scottish nationality, and to the sterling qualities thus humbly cultivated Scotland owes her varied and high national honors. The family reared in an atmo- sphere like this may be poor, but its lot is fortunate; Mr. Imrie had this priceless legacy and he fully appre- ciated it. Family worship was a daily exercise and on Sundays the Bible and Shorter Catechism were systematically taught. The family attended Grey- friars' United Presbyterian Church, the minister at the time being the Rev. Dr. David King, whqm his people held in high respect. Writing of this time Mr. Imrie himself says: "A childhood and home training passed under such devoted parental care and attention, whose moral atmosphere is a legacy of love, cannot but produce the best type of men and women, equipped for the battle of life, capable of suffering and sacrifice for the sake of principle and conscience, as the history of BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 9 Scotland doth abundantly testify in the stand her patriots and reformers took for civil and religious liberty, when haughty and unholy powers dared to in- vade her sea-girt heather hills, and sought to enslave her sons and dictate unjust laws and impose unjust taxes on her brave and independent people. No wonder that the patriotic Scot, at home and abroad, is so fond of the thistle and the heather that were so often stained with the best blood of his brave and valiant ancestors, when they fought and bled in the defence of freedom and justice." Choosing the calling of a printer, Mr. Imrie became apprenticed to Messrs. Bell & Bain, printers, and after serving with them was employed in the printing office of Messrs. MacLaren & Erskine, until his departure for Canada in 1871. As a young man he interested himself in church work, taking part in the various activities of the congregation in aggressive work. He also gave considerable time to hard reading, and to the study of poetry and it was in this pursuit that he dis- covered that he had an aptitude for versification. His associates were young men of like habits and tastes and friendships were then formed which proved not only lasting and pleasant, but helpful in after life, when his poetry was being placed before the public. In those early days he showed a love for nature that grew with his years. The vale of Clyde, the solitudes of the Renfrewshire hills, the watering places down the estuary, and the island of Arran were favorite spots in which to commune with nature and to gather vigor of "body and mind. He had a true eye for the features of those Scottish scenes which he could graphically describe by pen and voice, and among his friends, there was no small surprise that he did not oftener turn his muse to the hills and dells, the waterfalls and streams, the romantic lore and the beauty of which had made so deep and lasting an impression on his plastic mind. Yet when he began to write he was in Canada, far from 10 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH the haunts of his boyhood, and feeling a message in his heart the days' outlook furnished both the subject and the point of view. It was better so. But through a busy life his thoughts turned to the memories of those rural excursions, and to the family circle in Glasgow : " Ae nicht I sat my lee-some lane, Beside the big- ha' stove, A-dreamin' ower an" ower again O' folk an' scenes I love ; In thocht I cross'd the big- saut sea, An* smelt the caller air O' bonnie Scotland, dear to me, My native Ian' sae fair ! " And in an earnest tribute to his friends he voices his deep-wrought feelings thus: " Friends of those years when hopes were high, And hearts beat true, and love was nigh, And echoes woke which ne'er should die ; But echoes give; While fleeting years roll on apace, Within my heart there is a place That bears the likeness of each face, And thoughts that love 1 Friends dead and gone friends far and near Friends tried and true friends ever dear, Though sunder'd far, yet all are here, Close to my heart ; And all along life's rugged way The smile of friendship crowns the day, And hearts are young though heads be gray: Friends never part ! " The deep religious feeling fostered and cultivated in his home, he shows often in his verse; and his ac- knowledgement of his mother's pious influence he thus expresses: Thy look was love thy smile was joy Thy tears the eloquence of grief; Thy loving voice found sweet employ In whisp'ring to our heart's relief. Oh ! mother dear ! how much we owe To thee, for all thy loving care ; While memory lasts our thoughts shall go Back to the days of love and pray'r. Though on this earth no more we meet, And surging seas between us roll, We yet shall meet at Jesus' feet, Where love eternal fills the soul ! " BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 11 Again: "A man that loves and reverences his mother's memory is not a creature to be dreaded or distrusted. That mother brought up her children in the fear of God, and fed them daily 'on parritch, the Shorter Catechism, and the Confession of Faith,' and they suffered not from such fare either in soul or body. The Scotch father and mother are a unit in their efforts to bring up their children 'in the nurture and admonition of the Lord.' Rare filial affection in the family circle is the rule with few exceptions in a well brought up Scottish home, and 'mither's advice' is always respected and valued by her dutiful sons and daughters, backed and endorsed by that of her 'leal and loyal guidman,' for the father invariably advises all his children to 'tak' aye yer mither's advice!'" " Her counsel is wise an" safe to follow Then, tak' your mither's advice I She's kent ye the lang-est o' ony on earth. 'Tended ye weel since the day o' you birth She'll soothe you in pain, or join you in mirth, Sae, tak' your mither's advice ! ' After Mr. Imrie left Scotland his mother died (1872) ; his father came to Canada in 1874 and died in Toronto in 1876. That the last resting-place of both should thus be so far separated was a matter of keen regret to the devoted son whose fondest memories were asso- ciated with home. He writes: " Ah ! me, to think that they should rest Three thousand miles apart, Who lived and loved and in whose breast There beat one loving heart ; That they who labored heart and hand, To rear us one by one, Should sleep apart by sea and land, When life s hard work was done 1 " Genial, sympathetic, susceptible to deep impres- sions, and thrown in his teens among companions of a desirable kind, his own character and habits were early formed, so that, at the age of twenty-five, when he set out for Canada, he had acquired a useful experience and that self-reliance which meets the world with full 12 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH confidence of overcoming obstacles and succeeding in life. He settled in Toronto and soon took a responsible position in his calling. He was connected with the Canada Presbyterian office for many years and was highly esteemed as a contributor of verse to its columns and as an enterprising and able craftsman in the com- posing room. A portion of his time in the service of this journal was spent in obtaining subscribers for it in Eastern Ontario, work which he very much enjoyed. He travelled through towns, villages and townships, making extended journeys, driving, as a rule, among the farmers, but often afoot; ever welcome, whether he called on the hard-working farmer in the field, or on the hard-thinking minister in his study. He became, thus, thoroughly familiar with Canadian home life, observed the substantial comfort of the people, and saw with a poet's penetrating vision the great possi- bilities of the country's future. A ready speaker on religious and literary topics, he found frequent occa- sions during those travels to participate in the week-day prayer meeting and the family devotions, or in the social gatherings of the young in their churches, and scenes as might have been found among the peasantry of Scotland were often witnessed by him in those days of pleasant journeyings in the rural districts. His success as a canvasser was remarkable, and strong in- ducements were held out to him to continue that busi- ness, but having married in 1880 (on New Year's Day), and the domestic ties being very strong, he relinquished travelling for a business which would not to the same extent interrupt his home life. In 1884 he entered into partnership with D. L. Graham, and with him founded the well known printing house of Imrie & Graham, in more recent years Imrie, Graham & Harrap, of which he was the senior partner at the time of his death, and now The Imrie Printing Company, Limited. From the time of his arrival in Toronto, Mr. Imrie took an active part in the work of the church, becoming BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 13 at once a member of Cooke's Church, and teaching in the Sabbath School of the Elizabeth Street Mission. Thereafter he joined College Street Presbyterian Church, in connection with which he was a valued Sabbath School teacher and an elder, commanding the respect and esteem of his colleagues and of the pastor, the Rev. Dr. Alexander Gilray. He loved the old verities, and some of the innovations of the late days found in him a sturdy though moderate opponent. When the new Presbyterian Hymnal was issued his sympathies were with those who objected to some of its "departures" from use and wont, especially respect- ing the Psalm selections and a protest from him went the round, of which this is a quotation: FAREWEEL TO THE PSALMS Rev. xvii., 18, 19 Oh ! the auld Psalms o' David, fareweel 1 fareweel ! They're no near guid enough for us noo 1 The Kirk has decreed they may gang in the creel*, An' the auld maun gie place to the new ; The auld folk may weep, an' the young 1 folk may smile, An' the Session look pale wi' dismay, For the Kirk has contriv'd to woo us wr' guile, The compilers ha'e had their ain way ! Beware ! the " thin end o" the wedge," as they say, For the rest o' the Psalms will go next ! The Bible itself will be altered some day, Till we scarcely can find oot a text ! The ministers, surely, should be on oor side, An' froon on this strange innovation ; An' dinna gi'e way to guile, fashion, an' pride, That bodes the doonfa' o' a nation ! * The compilers' waste basket. In politics he leaned to the Liberal party, but never was a partisan or active party worker. "Country first," "Canada first," was his motto. He combined a. fervent love for the old land with a sincere devotion to the new, and with a strong loyalty to the Imperia tie. His countrymen arriving in Toronto ever found in him a sympathetic friend and he did much indeed for those needing counsel and help. He was a member of a number of Scottish Societies with whose organiza- 14 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH tions he heartily co-operated in good works. As a manager of St. Andrew's Society he was a kindly dis- posed dispenser of relief; the heart oftener than the head deciding the day. He was a member of the Cale- donian Society, Associate Bard of the Gaelic Society, a member of Burns Camp, Sons of Scotland Benevolent Association, and one of the original members of the Burns Literary Society of Toronto. To each and all of these Societies he gave freely of his time and talents, for he read with good effect, and lectured in an enter- taining, popular style. But he was specially happy in his connection with the Burns Literary Society. He was an enthusiastic student of the immortal Bard, and some fine tributes in prose and verse were offered at his shrine. Here he met congenial souls, for the Society is unique in Canada, membership being so con- ditioned that onerous qualifications were requisite. Many of those who formed the intellectual circle with Mr. Imrie were children of the Muse themselves, such as Alexander Fiddes, James Noble, J. Macpherson Ross, while the press, the platform, the rostrum and the pro- fessions furnished contributors of individuality and distinction. Mr. Imrie was never absent from these meetings, and there, among his fellows, he won his most cherished successes, for there his intensely human and his broad, liberal sympathies were genuinely appre- ciated. Mr. Imrie 's name was associated with Scottish publications in Canada for many years. In November, 1890, his firm began to publish The Scottish Canadian (first series). It appeared weekly and continued until October, 1893, when it became incorporated with the North American Scotsman, with offices in Toronto and Chicago, ceasing publication in December of the same year. Mr. Imrie attended, personally, to the business side of the undertaking, and labored hard to make it a financial success. It attained to a respectable circu- lation and only the pressure of other business interests BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 15 caused its abandonment. He published a collection of Scottish Readings; " The Reminiscences of a Highland Soldier," by Sergeant C. R. Martin; "Scottish Songs," with music; "The Scottish - Canadian Collection of Poetry," edited for the Caledonian Society of Toronto, and three popular lectures by himself: "The Pathos and Poetry of the Family Circle," "The Poet's Work- shop," and "The Scot at Home and Abroad," lectures delivered before popular audiences in and around Toronto. In 1880 Mr. Imrie married Elizabeth Me Janet, a native of Ayr. The union was truly that of "an honest man and a bonnie lassie." Miss Mcjanet was 12 years old when she came, with her family, to Toronto in 1870. To them were born eight children, Elizabeth Winnifred, John Mills, Margaret Helen, Grace Martin, James Hamilton, William Graham, Robert Dixon, and George Herbert, of whom two, Grace Martin and Margaret Helen have died. In 1889 Mr. Imrie made a long-looked-forward-to visit to Scotland and spent a very happy time among old friends and amid scenes sacred in Scottish song and story. It was a welcome respite in a life of strenuous business activity and the rest and recreation benefitted him greatly. He enjoyed good health to within a few days of his death which took place on the tenth of November, 1902. His remains are interred in Mount Pleasant Cemetery. Mr. Imrie was a man in some respects unique. He commanded the respect of the wide circle in which he moved, the humble and the high bestowing their esteem. His life was useful as it was busy, and he left behind him the example of a man who combined business shrewdness with the poetic instinct, incessant diligence with artistic tastes, a power and a promptness to plod the daily round with a mind tuned to the beau- ties and joys of a work-a-day world. The secret lay in his deeply religious character, in the old faith w hich 16 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH leavened his thought and hopes, and in a family attach- ment worthy a poet's idealization. Taken away when still in the prime of his powers his unexpected death was deeply mourned as a distinct loss to the community. Many tributes of respect to his memory reached the family from societies, churches, friends known and un- known to them. One poetic tribute, as it came from the author of Canada's National Song, "The Maple Leaf Forever," himself a sturdy, whole-souled Scot, since dead, is appropriately quoted: " Farewell, John Imrie, Scotia's bairn ; A freen' kind-hearted, leal and true ; A Scotsman o' the diamond stamp, Nane lo'ed auld Scotland mair than you. " The lintie sing-s wi' saddened lay, The thistle bows its head wi' grief, The gowan and the heather mourn, And waesome is the Maple Leaf." As a poet Mr. Imrie is known throughout the Eng- lish-speaking world. The people have bought his books whether in the larger collection form, or in small collections grouped in topical divisions. Few, indeed, of the minor poets have fared as well as he in this respect. Encouragement and recognition came at once and the patronage of the public was no kinder than the kindly pens of the newspaper critics. What- ever may be said of the quality of his poetry, it must at least be said that it was such as to find and satisfy a wide constituency. The contents of his volumes cannot be considered without considering these sug- gestive figures, viz.: His first edition was published in 1886. Put forward with the diffidence of a first venture, and without the adventitious aid of newspaper advertising, but through the ordinary channels of the bookseller's trade, 1,000 copies were exhausted in eighteen months. A second edition followed in 1891, enlarged by nearly 100 songs, chiefly patriotic, and in about two years this second edition of 1,000 was sold BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 17 out through the trade, and the demand for a third edition was met by an issue of 1,000 copies more, also enlarged by new poems. The third edition was about all sold at the time of the poet's death; and a fourth edition then ready was given to the world, of 3,500 copies, being a selection from the former editions and new poems added. It met with a ready sale ; and since then the demand for a further supply has been persist- ent enough to prove that a fifth edition will meet with the ready acceptance of the earlier four. There is no mistaking the meaning of this patronage, for the author with such a public has proved his poetry. The introduction to the first edition by G. Mercer Adam is considered to be a fair estimate of the merit of Mr. Imrie's poetry. As it is re-produced in this volume, the reader is referred to it as the well-balanced opinion of a competent writer. One sentence from it may, how- ever be quoted here: "The volume is chiefly note- worthy, not only for unassuming sincerity on the part of the writer, but for its appeal to the universal and easily awakened feelings of our common humanity; the unobtrusive piety and strain of religious sentiment which run, like threads of gold, through the book, will, we are sure, not the less endear the volume to the rever- ent reader, and to those whose hearts have felt the influences of the Divine." Mr. Edwards, whose judgment will not be ques- tioned by those who are familiar with his anthologies, says in his "Modern Scottish Poets": "For ourselves, it is seldom that we have seen a volume of poetry of so uniformly good quality. He furnishes us with real home pictures, full of interest, and admirably told. Ever graceful and sometimes playful, Mr. Imrie pos- sesses the true poetic faculty and he writes with earnest, patriotic passion, as well as with delicate and touching pathos." Among those who paid frequent tribute to his writings have been: Thos. C. Latto, Evan McColl, 18 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH Alexander MacLachlan, W. Wye Smith, D. Macgregor Crerar, L. A. Morrison, J. P. Broomfield, Geo. William- son, Donald F. Smith, E. H. Dewart. John D. Ross, LL.D., wrote in his "Cluster of Poets:" "Merit will always command attention, and Mr. Imrie is a poet of a very high order of merit. His poems are the outpour- ings of a heart that is imbued with the sensitive and finer feelings of a poet. They are pure, intellectual, vigorous, patriotic and sincere, and in a great number of instances they contain similes and thoughts which are morally and pathetically beautiful. . . . His sentiment is affectionate and loyal, his versification easy and correct, his style free and simple, his com- mand of language ample for his purpose." A verse from a poetical tribute to Mr. Imrie by Donald F. Smith, Camlachie, Ont., aptly puts it: " Gie me a bardie like yersel', Ye sine, but why ye canna' tell, But when ye tak" the musey spell Ye hae the airt O' touchin' aye the inmost cell O' ilka heart." A well -known poet in "Our Monthly," says: "Mr. Imrie 's great strength lies in his perfectly natural and often graceful methods of versification; his subjects are all within easy reach, and his treatment of them homely, sincere, and from the heart. The third edition before us contains almost a hundred new pieces, many of them of great beauty, beautiful in their simplicity, and such as cannot fail to have a most desirable influence in every household into which they come." These extracts I have given, not only because my own opinion is in agreement with them, but also because they reveal the opinions of men widely apart, accus- tomed to scrutinize poetic efforts, to sift the wheat from the chaff, to separate the gold from the dross; the cumulative verdict is remarkable for its unhesi- tating, clear tone. The press of the principal English-speaking coun- BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 19 tries has been singularly appreciative. The British papers have been uniformly congratulatory, so have those of the United States, of Canada, of Australia and New Zealand. In the two latter countries the reviews were featured in the large weekly editions and copious biographical notes and extracts from the poems utilized. The literary papers of New York, Boston and Brooklyn did the same. Naturally, the Toronto press followed suit and this generous encouragement was highly appreciated by the poet. One quotation, however, must suffice, and that only because of its terse aptness: "Mr. Imrie is to be congratulated upon the success he has achieved, and for the kindly confidence with which he sends his book across the water for the verdict of his ain countrie. Mr. Imrie writes with freedom, and all his work conveys the impression that he is a Scot deeply imbued with all the patriotic and religious fer- vours and convictions belonging to the best types of his nationality. He possesses a heart ready to feel the touch of pathos, or beat faster with worthy pride for the kin and the land from which he is so far away. His ear is ever ready to catch the music of every sound even in the commonest doings of the day, and his eye is in sympathy with both. To our taste he is best when he essays his native dialect, his use of language being then much more effective, more musical, and more correct generally than in the English, and it is not difficult to conceive that these homely lilts, with their humorous and pathetic touches, and their all- prevailing kindliness, will meet with a ready welcome from the Scot abroad. Proud of the Old Land, the writer is also proud of the new, its history, its litera- ture and its kindred blood. He rejoices in its past, and has a big faith for its future. To an author of these qualities it is impossible not to turn a favorable ear." In complying with the demand for a fifth edition, Mr. John M. Imrie, the poet's eldest son, has made a 20 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH careful selection. Many new poems are given, to make room for which some of those published previously have had to be left out, but the old favorites have not been sacrificed, and admirers of the poet will miss few, if any, old friends. Mr. Imrie is well fitted for the duty of compiling and publishing this collection, having had the advan- tage of his late father's confidence with respect to his unpublished poetry; and having shown ability of no mean order in conducting the office as his father's successor, the business arrangements for this edition will not lack the necessary care and attention which will ensure wonted success. Toronto, 1906. PATRIOTIC. OUR NATIVE LAND FAIR CANADA! OD save our native land, Free may she ever stand, Fair Canada; Long may we ever be Sons of the brave and free, Faithful to God and thee, Fair Canada. Fair as an opening flower, Planted in Heaven's bower, Fair Canada; Here many nations dwell, Loving their freedom well, Reaping where forests fell, Fair Canada. Land of great inland seas, Swept by the mighty breeze, Fair Canada; Reaching from sea to sea, Great will thy future be, Land of the brave and free, Fair Canada! Land of the prairies wide, Stretching like ocean's tide, Fair Canada; 22 IMRIE'S POEMS. Land of green hill and dale, Mountain and pleasant vale, Here worth shall never fail, Fair Canada! Come, then, from many lands, Brave hearts and willing hands, To Canada; Come where rich virgin soil Waits to reward your toil, Share in the harvest spoil Of Canada! *FINALE. " God save our Gracious King, Long live our noble king, God save the King; Send him victorious, Happy and glorious, Long to reign over us, God save the King." * This " Canadian National Song " may be sung to the air of " The National Anthem," the first verse of which would be very appropriate as " a finale " to the above composition. SONG OF FREEDOM. T^REEDOM'S glad song we sing; Free as a bird on wing, : Free as the sweet, pure air, Free as the sunlight fair, Shout Freedom's holy song: We nothing fear but wrong; For Freedom, God, and Right, We'll nobly stand and fight! PATRIOTIC. 23 While life and strength remain We will our rights maintain; Our hardy sons of toil Shall guard their native soil: From every hostile foe, From traitors lying low, From all that dare oppress, Our swords shall find redress! We shed no craven tear, No tyrant's threat we fear; Before no foe we fly, We dare be free OR DIE! To death we only bend, Our foe, and yet our friend; The watchword of the free Is: "DEATH OR LIBERTY!" CANADA ! NATIONAL ANTHEM. , let us all unite To sing our country's praise; For God, and home, and right, Our voices now we raise: CHORUS Dear Canada, to thee, Home of the brave and free, With heart and voice We now rejoice To sing in praise of thee! 24 IMRIE'S POEMS. From sea to sea our land Extends her vast domain, 'Mid scenes sublime and grand We sing this glad refrain: CHORUS Dear Canada to thee! etc. We'll welcome with a cheer, Each hardy son of toil; For happy Jiomes are here, With fruitful virgin soil! CHORUS Dear Canada to thee! etc. Let prairie, wood, and field, Re-echo this our song; Our sons shall never yield, What rights to them belong! CHORUS Dear Canada to thee! etc. Then wave our flag on high The Maple Leaf and Rose, For Canada we'll die Or vanquish all her foes! CHORUS Dear Canada to thee! etc. THE DOMINION OF CANADA. AN HISTORICAL SKETCH. a few acres of snow!" Our country first was styl'd, By French explorers long ago, In winter bleak and wild. PATRIOTIC. 25 An hundred years rolPd on apace, Again they sought our shore, As summer beamed with smiling face, Inviting to explore. The noble Champlain and his band On Quebec's height did raise The flag of France, with eager hand, 'Mid thankful prayer and praise. They fought and toil'd for many years, And till'd the virgin soil, Till happy homes dispell'd their fears, And fortune sweeten'd toil. Grim war again changed peaceful scenes To carnage and dismay; But British prowess intervenes, And finally holds sway. Then hand-in-hand, a peaceful band, The Briton and the Gaul Agree'd to sub-divide the land, Together stand or fall ! May peace and honour ever keep The brothers thus entwined; With patriotism pure and deep Fidelity enshrined! At last, like fair unfolding flower, The New Dominion stands, Upper and Lower Canada Embrace with loving hands! 26 IMRIE'S POEMS. Thus July first of every year, Our great Dominion Day, Her loyal sons hold ever dear, In honour and display! The fairest flower on this fair earth, The freest of the free; Whose sons are proud to own their birth, And claim their homes in thee! NIAGARA FALLS. , Niagara! as at thy brink I stand, My soul is filled with wonder and delight, To trace in thee that wonder-working Hand, Whose hollow holds the seas in balance light! Worthy art thou to be a nation's pride, A patriot's boast a world's unceasing wonder; Like some bold monarch calling to thy side Subjects from every clime in tones of thunder! Deep on my soul thy grandeur is impress 'd, Thy awful majesty thy mighty power Thy ceaseless tumult and thy great unrest, Like nations warring in dread conflict's hour! Rainbows of glory sparkle round thy shrine, Cresting thy waters with effulgence bright; And in thy foaming currents intertwine Rare coruscations of commingl'd light! PATRIOTIC. 27 Like roar of battle, or like thunder's call, Thy deep-toned echoes roll with solemn sound; Like pillar'd clouds thy vapours rise, and fall Like sparkling pearls upon the thirsty ground! Rush on! rush on! in thy unchecked career, With avalanchic power thy course pursue; While rending rocks quake as with mortal fear, And stand in awe to let thy torrents through! Naught but the hand of God could stay thy course, Or drive thee back to Erie's peaceful keep; Then onward press with thy gigantic force, Till in Ontario's bosom lull'd to sleep! Emblem of Freedom! who would dare essay To bar thy noisy progress to the sea? Then onward press ! while bordering nations pray For strength and wisdom to be great and free! ODE TO LAKE ONTARIO. inland sister-sea, Ontario! To glide upon thy bosom is sublime; There note thy peaceful, steady, onward flow, Ceaseless and constant as the course of time! Thy waters seem the same, yet ever new- Fed by a thousand streams on either side; The same clear sky, the same thy depths of blue, Free as the nations bord'ring on thy tide! Vast upper-lakes feed thee with lib'ral hand, From higher lands as new as thine hath been ; 28 IMRIE'S POEMS. Where still the Indian and his wigwam stand, He half amaz'd with what his eyes hath seen! To thy embrace like gallant lover bold- Niagara rushes in his mad career, Till tir'd and spent, past whirling eddies cold, He calmly sinks to rest when thou art near! Last of the inland seas! yet nearest home Thy waters soon shall swell the mighty deep, And mingle with the ocean's briny foam, There shalt thou rest and there for ever sleep! QUEENSTON HEIGHTS. A VERBAL PICTURE. OH! that I had the artist's power to touch The speaking canvas with a master-hand, I 'd paint a scene I truly love as much As any landscape in this fair new land! That picture would be Queenston's lovely height, 'Neath which Niagara's rushing waters gleam, Like molten glory in the sunset bright, Or fancy's vision in a pleasant dream! Here two great nations meet as if to kiss, Divided only by a silver line; Peace, welfare, harmony, and mutual bliss Link fruitful branches of a parent vine! The setting sun would tint Niagara Town With gilded glory as he sinks to rest; PATRIOTIC. 29 A noble steamer bearing swiftly down Toward Ontario's heaving, billowy breast! The stately monument of Brock would stand In bold relief against the azure sky, The valiant leader of a noble band Who for their country's honour dar'd to die! A picture thus I'd paint in Nature's praise, And worship at the threshold of her door; Before the scene I stand in rapt amaze In silence dumb yet love it all the more! WELCOME HOME, BRAVE VOLUNTEERS! Song of Welcome, sung by the School Children at the City Hall, Toronto, in honour of the Volunteers' return from the North-West Rebellion, 1885. A WELCOME home, brave Volunteers! * * Welcome, welcome home! Gone are all our anxious fears, Answer'd now our pray'rs and tears, Welcome home, 'midst ringing cheers, Welcome, welcome home! Welcome to our loving arms, Welcome to your rest; Welcome home from war's alarms, Safe from death and all that harms, Victory hath crown'd your arms, Welcome to your rest. Canada is proud of you Soldiers brave and true! 30 IMRIE'S POEMS. Ye have dar'd to win or die, Ye have made the rebels fly, Let your standards wave on high, Soldiers brave and true! Welcome home, though wounded sore, Battling for the right; Dreadful marches now are o'er, Safe from deadly bullets' pour, Silent now the cannons' roar, Heroes from the fight! Welcome home, but some we miss, Brave hearts, where are they? Gone where noble spirits are, Gone beyond the reach of war, Sleeping peacefully afar, 'Neath the sod and clay. Welcome home, our soldiers dear, Welcome, welcome home! Rebel threats no more we hear, War's alarms no more we fear, Now we smile and dry the tear, As we welcome home! QUEEN VICTORIA'S JUBILEE. OUR noble Queen, all hail! On this thy Jubilee; True hearts shall never fail To love and honour thee. PATRIOTIC. :n CHORUS. Victoria, to thee, From loyal hearts and free, At this glad time, From every clime, Come shouts of Jubilee ! From every land on earth Thy sons send greetings full, And proudly own their birth Beneath thy sovereign rule. CHORUS. In many scenes of life Our hearts round thee entwine; As mother, Queen, or wife, Thy virtues nobly shine. CHORUS. Let rebels point with scorn, Or cowards quake with fear, Thy true sons British-born, In memory hold thee dear. CHORUS. God spare thee many years, In trouble send relief; At last a nation's tears Shall wet thy grave in grief! CHORUS. THE SONS OF ENGLAND. Respectfully dedicated to the Sons of England in Canada. sons of England are her boast, * They love her as of yore, Then pledge to her a loyal toast, As oft we've done before! 32 IMRIE'S POEMS. CHORUS. Her sons are free, By land or sea, They know not craven fear! They dare to fight For God and right, For home and kindred dear! Should foreign powers invade her strand And taunt her with their boasts, Her free-born sons from many a land Would rally round her coasts. CHORUS. Her sons are free! America would send her share Across Atlantic's wave, In Freedom's cause their swords declare, Their mother-land to save. CHORUS. Her sons are free! From Canada would gladly go, Rose, Thistle, Shamrock green! They'd help to fight a common foe And shield their royal Queen. CHORUS. Her sons are free! From far across old Neptune's line Behold! a loyal band, Australia India would combine To lend a helping hand. CHORUS. Her sons are free! PATRIOTIC. 33 From distant islands of the sea Would rise a gallant host, To prove that England shall be free, And guarded well her coast. CHORUS. Her sons are free! YOUNG CANADA! Canada! Arise! Arise! Let Wisdom open wide your eyes, Be lulled by neither threats nor lies, Stand well the test of nations! Though others sell their birthright cheap, Be ours inviolate to keep The rights and liberties we reap Through contact with great nations! Be true to country, King, and laws, Defend the "Statutes" clause by clause, Stand by the right and Freedom's cause, A peer among the nations! Our sires were men of noble birth, 'Mong nations foremost on the earth, Where mountains rise, and seas engirt h The glad homes of free nations ! Our heritage from sea to sea A glorious home for men shall be, As long as they shall dare be free, And stand among the nations! 34 IMRIE'S POEMS. Our boast shall be "The Maple Leaf!" Our toil's reward the golden sheaf! Enough for us, and for relief Of other poorer nations! We envy not our neighbour's land, We'll guard our own with sword in hanc 7 And by our attitude command Respect from other nations. THE CANADIAN NATION. AN ACROSTIC. THE CANADIAN NATION! This fair new land! Her name shall yet among great nations stand, Each son a link in one true loyal band! CANADIAN to the core! where prairies roll, And northward far to the untrodden pole, No limit East or West but boundless sea, All this fair land is ours! and we are free! Down through the ages yet to come and go In this new land a nation strong shall grow, And send her produce o'er the earth afar, Nor shrink to guard her own in time of war! NATION from Nations ! all of them were free ! A patriot's boast is " boundless faith in thee!" The Briton and the Gaul shall brothers dwell, In all that makes for peace seek to excel; One name, one language, and one destiny, No home for traitors shall be found in thee! PATRIOTIC. 35 CANADA'S DEFENDERS. TTOME again, our Volunteers, - -* Home again 'mid ringing cheers, Vanishing our anxious fears, Canada's defenders; From the scenes of strife and war, From the rifle-pits afar, True as steel or Polar star, Canada's defenders. Back to home and kindred dear, Back to lov'd ones waiting here, Back from death and every fear, Welcome, brave defenders; Ye did make a noble stand, Under Middleton's command, For the honour of our land, Welcome, brave defenders. Welcome back to peace and joy, Welcome back to your employ, Rebel threats no more annoy, Canada's defenders; Stretching wide from sea to sea, Canada may boast of thee, Soldiers daring, brave and free, Canada's defenders. Let us join the merry throng, Welcoming with shout and song, Singing praises loud and long, To our brave defenders ; 36 IMRIE'S POEMS. Ye have made the rebel Kiel, Cower 'neath your charge of steel, Own your pluck, and then appeal To our brave defenders. JUBILEE SONG. THE GOLDEN WEDDING OF A NATION. ALL hail to thee VICTORIA! A name we all revere, Thy loyal sons in Canada Send forth a British cheer; Across the ocean's briny foam We hail thy Jubilee, Thou knowest that we love thee well, Thy subjects true are we. CHO. Then sing the praise of England's Queen, Whose many virtues crown her station; O'er all the earth this day is seen The golden-wedding of a nation. The sun ne'er sets on thy domains, Thy flag floats o'er the free; Thy colonies, like precious gems, Bespangle every sea! Thy ships of war, like buttresses, Defend thy honour true, And not a son of thine would shrink To shed his blood for you! CHORUS. Then sing the praise, etc. PATRIOTIC. 37 O may thy life, our noble Queen, Be spared from grief and pain, And may the land we love so well, Her prominence maintain; For fifty years thy loving rule Hath blessed us day by day; Ah! we shall miss thee, gracious Queen, When thou art called away! CHORUS. Then sing the praise, etc. O THE BRITISH ARMS. ILD England's flag floats o'er the free,- The Cross, Red, White and Blue, The British Arms, by land or sea, Defend the brave and true; Then let us sing her praises well, The land we love so dear, And of her many conquests tell, Won by a British cheer! CHORUS: Hurrah! hurrah! the British Arms! All tyrant threats defy; We fear no foe, nor war's alarms, Our motto "Win or die!" Old England's steel has stood the test On many a foreign field, Her sons, the noblest and the best, They know not how to yield; Her colonies, like precious gems, Bespangle every sea, Victoria's well-worn diadems Shine o'er the brave and free! CHORUS: Hurrah! hurrah! the British Arms! SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. BEING POEMS ON SCOTTISH THEMES OR IN THE SCOTTISH DIALECT. "SCOT1T." WES! ca' me "Scotty" if ye will, For sic' a name can mean nae ill, 0' a 7 nick-names just tak' yer fill, I'm quite content wi' "Scotty!" To be a Scot is nae disgrace, Maist folk can trust a guid Scotch face, He's never lang oot o' a place, The honest, faithful "Scotty!" A Scotchman has the knack to plod, Through thick and thin he'll bear his load, His trust is aye in richt an' God, The perseverin' " Scotty!" He's 'tentive baith to kirk an' mart, To friends he's true an' hard to part, In life's great race he needs nae start, "I'll win or dee," says "Scotty!" An' if he meets wi' ane or twa O Scotlan's sons when far awa', They'll 'gree like brithers ane and a', A "clannish" man is "Scotty!" SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 39 Though aft he travels far frae hame, He's aye a Scotchman a' the same, An' prood to crack o' Scotlan's fame, A loyal son is "Scotty!" Should Scotlan' ever need his help, He '11 gie her enemies a skelp, An' mak' them howl like ony whelp, And gie respect to "Scotty!" Then ca' me " Scotty" if ye will, Nick-name like that can mean nae ill, I'll shake yer han' wi' richt guid will, Whene'er ye ca' me " Scotty!" "SCOTLAND FOR EVER!" GOTLAND FOR EVER!" Yes ! who dares say No! Tread her battle-fields read their story! First aye, and last to strike Liberty's blow, Old Scotland for ever and glory! "SCOTLAND FOR EVER!" by land or by sea, Yes! wherever a British flag waves; Her motto is "Do, DARE, DIE OR BE FREE!" Death to tyrants and freedom to slaves! " SCOTLAND FOR EVER! " in Commerce and Trade, Discovery, 'Conquest, and Learning; At home and abroad a name she has made, Brain, muscle, and nerve well discerning. 40 IMRIE'S POEMS. 11 SCOTLAND FOR EVER!" in Home, Church, and School, God's precepts were early imparted; Love, Chivalry, Honour, and Freedom's rule, Were taught by our parents true-hearted! "SCOTLAND FOR EVER!" our motto shall be, Her memories dear let us cherish; If we forget thee " Auld Scotland, the Free!" Let our names and our mem'ry perish! SCOTLAND! MY NATIVE LAND. O GOTLAND! my own, my native land, S^ Thy broomy hills and silv'ry streams, They haunt me on this foreign strand- How oft I see them in my dreams! I clap my hands in childish glee, And play again upon thy shore; But, waking, weep! no more for me Those happy, happy days of yore. I've wander'd from thee, fairest land! And pine upon another shore, Strange sights and' scenes on ev'ry hand Remind me that I love thee more! A sprig of heather from thy hills, A bonnie flower from yon sweet dell, At sight of these my fond heart thrills . And throbs beneath their potent spell ! SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 41 I hear a song a song of thee! Sung in the Doric, pure and sweet, Of Scottish love and chivalry, With pleasure I am like to greet; I hear a voice one like my own While passing by some market-place. In accent, pathos, twang, and tone And claim my kin a Scottish face! Oh! dearest land on God's fair earth, May I be spar'd thy face to see! Land of my sires! Land of my birth! None other can be "hame" to me! Where'er my wand'ring footsteps rove, My heart is ever true to thee; And warmest blessings, pray'rs, and love, Are daily wafted ower the sea! BRUCE AND BANNOCKBURN. IN COMMEMORATION OF JUNE 24TH, 1314. LET Scotia's sons with honour tell Of how our fathers fought so well, And how proud Edward's legions fell Upon the field of Bannockburn! Our sires knew well that on that day The fate of Scotland's future lay, Yet eager were they for the fray Upon the field of Bannockburn! De Bruce reviewed his trusty band, And o'er them stretched his brave right hand 42 IMRIE'S POEMS. " Fight for your rights and this fair land, Or die with me at Bannockburn! " The dawn of day crept o'er the hill; The Scottish army calm and still Committed to God's holy will The loss or gain of Bannockburn! On! on! the English forces flew, A hundred men to one I trew, Yet routed were they by a few Brave Scottish Clans at Bannockburn! Ere yet that evening's sun had set The field with English blood was wet, For there the Sons of Scotland met To claim their rights at Bannockburn! Let sires their sons this history tell Of how our fathers fought and fell, For Freedom that they loved so well And won for us at Bannockburn! GORDON HIGHLANDERS AT DARGAI. GORDON HIGHLANDERS ! CHARGE ! "The pipers played, Not a soul drew back not a man afraid ! "The Cock o' the North!" crow'd loud in their ears, As they answered back with three British cheers ! Up the Dargai Heights the Gordons flew, SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 43 It was "DEATH OR VICTORY" well they knew; Yet, as long as they heard the pipers play, Foot-by-foot they climb 'd for the bloody fray! While the enemy rain'd down deadly shot And the ranks were thinn'd where the fire was hot, Still the pipers play'd on with might and main, As the Gordons charged for the heights again! With a rush and a bound they scal'd the height. Hark! " BAYONETS CHARGE! " how the Gordons fight! While, 'mid carnage and blood, the pipers fell, On stumps played they "Cock o' the North" right well! 'Ere the bugle sounded at set of sun, The heights were taken! the battle was won! 'Mid the groans of dying and wounded men, Findlater was heard "at his pipes" again! It cheered the dying in their last despair, Such music and "VICTORY!" rent the air: Through "the valley of Death" then march'd they forth, To the martial strains of "Gock o' the North!" Oh! mothers at home! mourn not for your sons, For they bravely fell 'neath the rebel guns; Their deeds shall be told till the end of time, To fall like a hero is death sublime! In the battle of life this lesson teach, We all have "Our Dargai Heights" to reach; And, gain we the summit, or, fighting, fall, God crowns His heroes at Death's roll-call! 44 IMRIE'S POEMS. "HALF MEN! HALF WOMEN!" KRUGER'S ESTIMATE OF HIGHLAND SOLDIERS. TENDER in Love! but fierce in war! "Half men! half women!" Your motto "Touch me, if ye daur!" "Half men! half women!" Equal in valour, one to ten! Proclaim it to the world again: The brave ones are the tender men! "Half men! half women!" Kruger truthfully hath spoken, "Half men! half women!" See! his bravest ranks are broken! "Half men! half women!" Brave Gordons ! charge ! the Boers must feel The terrors of your walls of steel ; "Cock o' the North" the bagpipes squeal! "Half men! half women!" Remember deeds of valour done, "Half men! half women!" Remember fields of glory won, "Half men! half women!" In Britain's battles do your share, Bring honour to the name you bear, Boers shall respect the dress you wear! "Half men! half women!" And when the struggle shall be o'er, "Half men! half women!" Return in peace to Scotland's shore, "Half men! half women!" SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 45 Your mothers, sisters, brothers dear, Will welcome you with many a cheer; And soon forget old Kruger's sneer, "Half men! half women!" MY HEART IS SCOTLAND'S YET. OH, weel I loe the Scottish tongue, The language o' my hame, An' weel I loe a sang that's sung In praise o' Scotland's fame; It mak's me think o' happy days An' scenes o' beauty rare, There's something in my heart that says: There's nae Ian' half sae fair! CHORUS. My heart is Scotland's yet, Though I bide ower the sea; I never can forget The Ian' sae dear tae me! When travelin' in a foreign Ian' I hear a Scottish voice, Instinctively I gie my han', An' baith o' us rejoice; An' then we crack o' Scotland's fame, Recite her battles ower, An' feel we yet could daur the same Our faithers daur'd before! CHORUS. My heart is Scotland's yet! Oh, Scotland is a bonnie place, Wi' scenery sublime; Whaur Nature smiles wi' fairest face That stan's the test o' time! 4G IMRIE'S POEMS. Each mountain, river, loch, or glen, Are fu' o' storied fame; Wha reads the history o' her men Can ne'er forget their name! CHORUS. My heart is Scotland's yet! In every Ian' roun' a' the earth Are leal hearts true tae thee; An' prood are they tae own their birth Ayont the wide saut sea, Whaur towers the mountains bold an' gran' Like guardians o' the free, Oh, here's my heart, an' there's my han', Dear Scotland, aye tae thee! CHORUS. My heart is Scotland's yet! SLAUGHTER OF THE HIGHLAND BRIGADE. December 11, 1899. T3LACK Watch, Gordons, Seaforths four thou- sand strong March'd through the darkness of an Afric' night, Noiseless and slow, the tangl'd veldt along, ' l To charge the foe on Magersfontein Height! Hark! a soldier falls (the cursed barb wire, Treach'rous as a Boer) trap'd in blood and pain, SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 47 Discharged his gun! down came the Boer's red fire Upon the ambush'd host, like deadly rain! Searchlights and shells turn'd midnight into day, BafiTd and blinded, charg'd the Highland host! Brave Wauchope, foremost, fell amid the fray " Obeying orders," counting not the cost! We think not less of the Highland brigade, Who fell while attempting "a forlorn hope;" They bravely fac'd death, as if on parade, Now, ''Steady, men, steady!" said brave Wauchope ! Next day the sun set golden in the West A holy calm preceded by a storm; A solemn sadness filFd each Highland breast As to the grave they trod in martial form; The pibroch sounded forth, in wailing strain, Sounds, sighs, and sobs, too deep for human speech, For comrades ne'er to join in ranks again, Who fell like heroes in the deadly breach! Brave Highland chief! thy soldiers sleep with thee, Who led them forth on many a bloody field; Now take thy rest, "the remnant" yet shall see A day of victory, when thy foes shall yield! Dream on! dream on! while loving friends at home, With bated breath recite thy virtues o'er; 48 IMRIE'S POEMS. Life's battle fought, a meeting-time shall come, When sunder'd hearts shall meet to part no more! Oh, Scotland! mourn not for thy noble dead, Who die in Freedom's cause know not despair; God's angels watch and ward their lowly bed, Earth's heroes are His own peculiar care! Whom God elects to serve His purpose wise, He will protect their lov'd ones far or near; There is a home for such beyond the skies, In His great heart of Love a place most dear! SONS OF SCOTLAND. Respectfully dedicated to Robert Burns Camp, No. 1, S.O.S., Toronto. SONS of Scotland! land of freedom! Sons of noble sires, all hail! Let your watchword aye be " Freedom !" You shall evermore prevail: Let the wrong be deeply hated, Let the right be prized like love, Martyr-courage unabated, Trusting in your God above ! Sons of Scotland! bards historic Sang your deeds of noble fame, Let not tyranny plethoric Tarnish your unsullied name; SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 49 History gives us what we cherish, Ours to still maintain the right May that history never perish, Though we perish in the fight! Like the waters from our fountains, Giving strength to flesh and bone; Like the thistle on our mountains, Harmless, if but let alone! Ours to shield the needy stranger, Ours to put the erring right; Ours to stand in time of danger, And, if need be, ours to fight! Dear old Scotia! land of flowers, Land of mountain, hill and vale, Land of sunshine, shade and showers, Land of river, loch, and dale; Land of ever-changing beauty, Land of liberty and love; Scotchmen! tread the path of duty, Till you reach the land above! OH! THE BONNIE, BONNIE HILLS! OH! the bonnie, bonnie hills Wi' their taps sae green an' high, An' the music o' the rills As they rin' doon frae the sky; Where the lammies skip an' play, An' the rabbits rin sae slee, A' the lee lang simmer's day, Oh! the bonnie hills for me! 50 IMRIE'S POEMS. Oh! the bonnie, bonnie lake, In the bosie o' the hill, Where the siller fish we take As reward o' time and skill; We never seemed to weary, Though the fish were unco shy, An' the scene was sometimes eerie, As the nicht was drawin' nigh! Oh! the bonnie, bonnie glens Where the shepherd builds his cot, An' the wee herd laddie kens Where to find the coolest spot; An' he tak's no count o' time, For the gloamin' bides sae lang, Then he gangs hame wi' some rhyme O' a well-kent Scottish sang! Oh! the cool an' shady wuds, Wi' the birds a' singin' sweet, Where ye canna see the cluds An' are safe frae rain or heat; Where we ate oor halesome meal An' the mid-day hour beguil'd,^ Or the stately trees we climbed For the nuts a' growin' wild! Oh! the bonnie, bonnie sea, Wi' its gold an' siller sheen, An' the sichts sae dear to me O' the auld familiar scene; Though I'm far ayont the sea Frae the Ian' that gied me birth, Yet these scenes are dear to me As the sweetest things o' earth! SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 51 AYE BE PROOD O' SCOTLAND. OH, I'll aye be prood o' Scotland Wherever I may be, There never was a fairer land Girt by the rolling sea! Wi' mountains tow'ring up on high, Lochs, rivers, flowing free, Lang gloamin' sunsets in the sky, A bonnie sicht to see! CHORUS. Bonnie, bonnie Scotland, The land sae dear to me; Bonnie, bonnie Scotland, I'll aye be prood o' thee! Oh I'll aye be prood o' Scotland, Her commerce and her trade Can equal that of any land On earth, 'tis freely said; Her ships, the best that man can make To cross the stormy sea, For tonnage, size, and speed they take The "A One" guarantee! CHORUS. Oh, I'll aye be prood o' Scotland, Where genius brightly burns, Wi' monuments on ilka hand To Wallace, Knox and Burns! Such names as these shall ever stand High on the scroll of fame, Her sons are found in every land, A credit to her name! CHORUS. 52 IMRIE'S POEMS. Oh, I'll aye be prood o' Scotland, Her heather and her hills, Roun' a' the earth there is nae land Such love my bosom thrills ; I'll brave the dangers o' the deep Auld Scotland's face to see, An' when I dee I'd like to sleep My lang last sleep in thee! CHORUS. BACK TO BONNIE SCOTLAND. BACK to bonnie Scotland, Ower the wide saut sea; Yonder are the hill-taps, Dear as life to me! Back to kith and kindred, Hame again at last, Joy and sorrow mingled, Memories o' the past! CHORUS. Back to Bonnie Scotland, Ower the wide saut sea; Back to hame an' lov'd ones, Dear as life to me! I am almost speechless Wi' a gratefu' joy, To see the scenes again I saw when but a boy; Bonnie purple heather Crowns the rugged hills, Scenes o' youth an' gladness, A' my bosom thrills! CHORUS. SCOTTISH SELECTIOXS. 53 Back to bonnie Scotland, A' my dreams come true, Toil an' care forgotten, Wi' a glint o' you! Tears runnin' ower my cheek But no wi' dool an' pain; My heart is in a lowe To meet wi' frien's again! CHORUS. THE BONNIE ARRAN HILLS. AS I approach thee, lovely Clyde, My heart wi' rapture thrills, My longing eyes behold wi' pride The bonnie Arran hills; The graceful bend o' Brodick Bay Calls back the scenes o' yore, When many a happy summer's day Was spent upon thy shore? CHORUS Oh, Arran hills! dear Arran hills! I've long'd sae aft to see; Wi' native pride my bosom thrills, Weel may I sing o' thee! And there, defying change o' Time, Stan's clear against the sky, The mountain-tap I used to climb, Dear auld Goat Fell sae high; Glen Sannox nestles at thy fit The sight my rapture wins 54 'IMRIE'S POEMS. An' roon thy sides the swallows flit, 'Mang heather, flowers, and whins! CHORUS Oh, Arran hills! dear Arran hills! The bonnie Arran hills for me Wi' sunlit taps o' glory, Fit emblem o' the brave an' free O' ancient Scottish story! When far frae thee o'er ocean wide, Fond memories come to cheer me, I'll sing o' thee wi' loyal pride, An' wish I was but near thee! CHORUS Oh, Arran hills! dear Arran hills! TO GLASGOW, SCOTLAND. p\EAR Glasca! aft I think o' thee, *-^ An' happy days lang syne, Though distant, thou art dear tae me, By memory's sacred shrine; Aft hae I climb 'd Balmano's steep, An' ran doon Portlan' brae, An' gather'd " gushes" in a heap, Wi' mony a gled "hurra!" In summer time, whan schule was out, An' we had got "the play!" I've wannert mony a mile about The hale lang simmer's day; A favourite place was Glasca Green, By bonnie banks o' Clyde, Where Nelson's monument is seen, Our hero an' our pride! SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 55 An' aft we went by Broomielaw, Tae Renfrew's cosy toon, There mony a noisy luckless craw We manag'd tae shoot doon! Then ower the Clyde, tae Kelvinside, We took oor hameward way, Weel pleased tae ride tae whaur we'd bide, Sae tired were we that day! Oh! Glasca, dear! I've drapt a tear O' happiness an' joy, At a' thy memories sae dear Whan I was bit a boy! Three thoosan' miles are stretch'd atween, My new hame an' my auld, Yet in my heart sweet memories green, S'all bide till I'm deed cauld! DEAR LAND AYONT THE SEA. T STAND upon a foreign shore * And gaze across the sea, Fond memories bridge the waters o'er, Sweet home-thoughts come to me; Once more I see the bonnie hills, Feel gladsome, young and free, My heart with loyal rapture thrills Dear land ayont the sea. I see aince mair the gowans fair, And scent the hawthorn bloom, I feel the pure sweet mountain air Blaw fresh from heather broom; 56 IMRIE'S POEMS. I hear glad voices as of yore Sing sangs o' love to me, Oh! shall I ever see thee more, Dear land ayont the sea! May Heaven grant me this request Before the day I dee, To see the land I love the best, My birthplace o'er the sea; And oh! methinks I would be blest, When soars my spirit free, To ken my body yet would rest At hame ayont the sea. ON A VISIT TO THE "OLD COUNTRY. ACROSS the wide Atlantic sea Our steamer speeds her way, Great billows rolling grand and free Rest not by night or day. At last the land recedes from sight, The great new land of hope, Where enterprise and honest might Find fair and ample scope. A week has pass'd, yet sea and sky Seem all of earth to me, Until at last the welcome cry Is heard with joy and glee: SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 57 "Land, ho! land, ho!" a sailor cries, But naught to us is seen: An hour or two, and then our eyes Behold the welcome scene: Great headlands rise, like sentries bold, Or guardians of the land; Their tops, like helmets, shine with gold In sunset hues so grand! Still on we speed, with hope and joy Our hearts feel like to sing! Our thoughts on "home" find sweet employ As early scenes up-spring! The fair green hills of Ireland rise, Resplendent to the view, And seem an earthly Paradise To loving hearts and true! 'Tis hard to leave the deck to-night, I scarce can go to sleep; I toss and dream, till morning light Comes shining o'er the deep! Now, dear old Scotia's mountains rise As up the Clyde we steam; Like friends of old they cheer our eyes, Or like a pleasant dream! At last we reach the same old pier Where years ago we parted; Here once we wept, now joy's glad tear From loving eyes has started! 58 LWRIE'S POEMS. Oh, friends of early days, and "home" Of childhood's happy years! My thoughts are yours where'er I roam, For you my prayers and tears ! HAME YET NO AT IIAME! TOOK my way ayont the sea Wi' thoughts on pleasure bent, Nigh twenty years had gane ower me Since frae my hame I went. I Bit, noo I'm here, I stranger feel Than if I were abroad; I find the spots I kent sae weel Ca'd some new-fangled road! I daunder up an' doon the street Where aince I used to play, An' scarce a kent face dae I meet The lee-lang simmer's day! My heart is sair I canna tell The reason why it's sae An' aftentimes I ask myseF Why do I feel sae wae? I ask for Jock, an' Tarn, an' Will My cronies a' o' yore: Some gane awa' some cauld an' still- An' few are to the fore! SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. :,<\ Imagination's a' at faut I find oot to my cost For Time his subtle change has wrought, Kent faces a' are lost! I pictur'd them as when I last Beheld each bonnie bro', The lads and lassies o' the past Are men an' women noo! An' some had even quite forgot That ever I had been, Until we minded o' a lot 0' scenes we each had seen! Then had we mony a hearty laugh At a'e thing an' anither, An', as a social cup we'd quaff, We felt each like a brither. We took a trip far doon the Clyde Amang the hills an' heather, 'Twas then I thocht I'd like to bide In Scotlan' a' thegither! The hills were just the very same, The lochs an' glens sae bonnie, I felt aince mair I was at hame An' proud o' hame as ony. Oh! Scotlan', thou shalt ever be A patriot's boast an' glory; I'll brag o' you when ower the sea, An' aften tell this story! 00 IMRIE'S POEMS. ST. ANDREW'S NIGHT. THE farther Scotchmen gang frae hame They seem to grow the fonder O' everything that's Scotch in name, An' crack aboot it yonder Ayont Atlantic's briny foam; They a' ken ane anither The Scot's at hame where'er he roam, An' share to find a brither! CHORUS St. Andrews, Caledonians, Clans, As Sons of Scotland gather; An' Gaelic braw " John Hielan'mans ! " Are prood o' hame and heather! An' whan St. Andrew's day comes roon There 's aye a demonstration, They march wi' pipers through the toon, In honour o' oor nation; At nicht they spread a table fair, An' mak' a jolly pairty, They 're sure to hae a' guid things there Tae mak' them crouse an' hearty! CHORUS. The hall is set a' roon wi' flags, And sometimes screeds o' tartan; Wi' claymores, shields, and heids o' stags, Frae Oban and Dumbarton! Each coat, in button-hole, is seen A sprig o' Heilan' heather, Wi' a bonnie rose-bud in between, To show they gree thegither! CHORUS. SCOTTISH SELECTIONS. 61 It's then they crack o' Scotland's micht, 0' Wallace, Knox, an' Burns; An' how a Scotchman fechts for richt, Gie speeches a' in turns! The auld Scotch sangs their hearts enthral, They lo'e the words sae fine, Tae the "wee short hour ayont the twal," Whan they pairt wi' "Auld Lang Syne!" CHORUS. THE LADS WI' THE KILTS. IT ERE 'S a sang to the lads wi' the kilts, * The bonnet, the plaid, an' the feather, For in battle their courage ne'er wilts, Nor care they a preen for the weather! Wi' a charge o' cauld steel They wad face man or deil, The sonsie braw sons o' the heather! To see oor braw Hielan' lads drillin' Mak's me think o' the Ian' yont the sea, My heart sweels fu' big wi' its feelin', When I think they wad fecht, win or dee! Wi' a charge o' cauld steel They wad mak' their foes reel, An' be glad aff the field for to flee! Should invaders set fit on oor soil, They wad think they'd stappit on thistles, For oor lads wad soon mak' them recoil At the point o' polish'd steel bristles! 62 IMRIE'S POEMS. At the touch