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 But, dark and still, we inly glow,

Condensed in ire ! Strike, tawdry slaves, and ye shall know

Our gloom is fire. In vain your pomp, ye evil powers,

Insults the land; Wrongs, vengeance, and the cause are ours,

And God's right hand! Madmen ! they trample into snakes

The wormy clod ! Like fire, beneath their feet awakes

The sword of God ! Behind, before, above, below,

They rouse the brave; Where'er they go, they make a foe,

Or find a grave.

Elliott.

LXDC

LOYALTY

HAME, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,

O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie !

When the flower is i' the bud and the leaf is on the tree,

The lark shall sing me hame in my ain countrie;

Hame, hame, hame, hame fain wad I be,

O hame, hame, hame, to my ain countrie !

The green leaf o' loyaltie's begun for to fa 1 , The bonnie white rose it is withering an' a'; But I'll water 't wi' the blude of usurping tyrannic, An' green it will grow in my ain countrie.

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