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Hail Britannia's noblest daughter,
Who is surrounded by the water
Of many a lake and broad sea,
Land of beaver and of maple tree.

Her lofty brow is wreathed with smiles,...

Not all disgraced, in that Italian town,
The imperial German cowered beneath thine hand,
Alone indeed imperial Hildebrand,
And felt thy foot and Rome's, and felt her frown...

"Who is Blackmouth?" Well, that's hard to say.
Mebbe he might ha' told you, 't other day,
If you'd been here. Now, - he's gone away.
Come to think on, 't wouldn't ha' been no use...

I

Here am I yet, another twelvemonth spent,
One-third departed of the mortal span,
Carrying on the child into the man,
Nothing into reality. Sails rent,
And rudder broken, reason impotent...

His dressing-gown's blue, and
His girdle is red;
He wears a black cap
On top of his head.

He carries a candle
To give you a light,
In case you should ever
Get up in the night.

The Text is from Motherwell's Minstrelsy, pp. 44-5.

...

Immured in Bothwell's Towers, at times the Brave
(So beautiful is the Clyde) forgot to mourn
The liberty they lost at Bannockburn.
Once on those steeps I roamed at large, and have...

Immured in Bothwell's towers, at times the Brave
(So beautiful is Clyde) forgot to mourn
The liberty they lost at Bannockburn.
Once on those steeps 'I' roamed at large, and have...

With buoyant heart he left his home for that bright wond'rous land
Where gold ore gleams in countless mines, and gold dust strews the sand;
And youth's dear ties were riven all, for as wild, as vain, a dream...

Still serve me in my age, I pray,
As in my youth, O faithful one;
For years I've brushed thee every day--
Could Socrates have better done?
What though the fates would wreak on thee...

'Cherries, ripe cherries!'
The old woman cried,
In her snowy white apron,
And basket beside;
And the little boys came,
Eyes shining, cheeks red,
To buy a bag of cherries,
To eat with their bread.

Caught Susanner whistlin'; well,
It's most nigh too good to tell.
'Twould 'a' b'en too good to see
Ef it had n't b'en fur me,
Comin' up so soft an' sly
That she didn' hear me nigh....

How wundersch'n das Vaterland
In audumn-life abbears;
Vot rainpows gild ids vallies crand,
Ven seen troo vallin tears.
Und VON I'll creet mit sang und klang,
Und drown in goldnen wein;...

Oldt Fl'misch.

Het vas Mijn Heer van Torenborg,
Ride oud oopon de sand,
Und vait to hear a paardeken;
Coom tromplin from de land.
He vaited vhen de boeren volk
Vent oud oopon de plain,...

'Vides igitur, Collega carissime, visitationem canonicam esse rem haud ita periculosam, sed valde amoenam, si modo vinum, groggio et cibi praesto sunt.'...

Ich bin ein Deutscher,
und mein name is Cobus Hagelstein,
I coom from Cincinn'ti,
and I life peyond der Rhein;
Und I dells you all a shdory
dot makes me mad ash blitz,
Pout how a Yankee gompany...

Bright cap and streamers,
He sings in the hollow:
Come follow, come follow,
All you that love.
Leave dreams to the dreamers
That will not after,
That song and laughter
Do nothing move.
...

At a point where the old road crosses
The river, and turns to the right,
I'd camped with the team; and the hosses
Was all fixed up for the night.
I'd been to the town to carry
A load to the Cudgegong;...

Shadows of the twilight falling
On the mountain's brow,
To each other birds are calling,
In the leafy bough.
Where the daisies are a-springing,
And the cattle bells are ringing,...

With many a pause and oft reverted eye
I climb the Coomb's ascent: sweet songsters near
Warble in shade their wild-wood melody:
Far off the unvarying Cuckoo soothes my ear....