St. Andrew’s Day

Day of gladness! day of greeting! Hands are elasp‘d, and hearts are beating! Scots in every clime are meeting!

Meeting as they met of yore; Through the snow drift, o‘er the heather, See! they wend their way together;

Spite of wind, or wave or weather,

Scots shall meet on every shore;

Be it so for evermore.

Meet — but not in battle gory, As in ancient Scottish story, Clan with clan, for gain or glory,. In the days of the Claymore: Scotia’s mountains rent asunder By the warring clansmen’s thunder, As if hell had open’d under, Shaking kingdoms with her roar! Be it thus, 0 — nevermorel

Yet, should trump of battle, pealing,

Wake the ancient marshal feeling,

Who‘d be foremost then, in dealing, Death around them and before?

Let the eagle spread his pinion

Over fiend or over Fenian —

Up! we'll fight for our Dominion As our fathers fought of yore! Fight, and save it evermore!

Fill a glass to overflowing

To the NATION that is growing

From Atlantic to the glowing Wave of the Pacific shore!

Truth and Honor be her booty

In the battle day of duty;

Vigor, valor, virtue, beauty Be her dower evermore! — Heritage for everrnorel

Sons of Erin! Albin! never May the golden bonds dissever, That should make us one forever On this bleak Canadian shore! Shamrock wreathe and Rose together, With the Maple Leaf and Heather! Storm, or strife, or wind, or weather, Then shall part us nevermore! Part us never, nevermore. “

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