Page:Companion of mirth.pdf/19

19 e tooms the cog-the chorus rings, kuld Scotia's sons shall aye be free. Blithe, blithe, &c.

n like our dads of auld langsyne, et social glee unite us a'; blithe to meet our mou's to weet, put aye as sweert to gang awa. Blithe, blithe, &c.

March to the Battle Field.

March to the battle field, The foe is no before us; Each heart is fredom's slield, And Heav'n is smiling o'er us.

e woes and pains, the galling chains, Which kept our spirits under, proud disain we ve broke again, And tore cach link asunder. March to the battle field &c.

no, for his country brave, Would fly from her invader? no his base life to save, Would traitor like degrade her?

r hallow'd cause, our home and laws, Gainst tyrart pow'r sustaining, ll gain a crown of bright renown, Or die our rights maintaining. March to the battle field, &c.