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النشر الإلكتروني

Sound the trump from pole to pole,
Till old Time shall cease to roll.

LIFE LET US CHERISH.--By Mozart. LIFE let us cherish

While yet the taper glows,
And the fresh flow'ret,
Pluck ere it close.

Why are we fond of toil and care,
Why choose the rankling thorn to wear,
And heedless by the lily stray,

Which blossoms in our way?
When clouds obscure the atmosphere,
And forked lightnings rend the air,
The sun resumes his silver cast,
And smiles a-down the west.

Life let us cherish, &c.
The genial seasons soon are o'er,
Then let us ere we quit this shore
Contentment seek, it is life's rest,
The sunshine of the breast.

Life let us cherish, &.c.
Away with every toil and care,
And cease the rankling thorn to wear,
With manful hearts life's conflicts meet,
Till death sounds the retreat.

Life let us cherish, &c.

ROY'S WIFE OF ALPIVALLOCH.-By Mrs. Grant. Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,

Roy's wife of Aldivalloch; Wat

ye

how she cheated me,
As I came o'er the braes of Balloch.

She vow'd, she swore she wad be mine,

She said that she lo'ed the best of ony;
But oh the fickle, faithless quean,
She's ta'en the earl and left her Johnny.

Roy's wife, &c.
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,

Roy's wife of Aldivalloch; Wat ye how she cheated ine,

As I caine o'er the braes of Balloch. O she was a canty quean,

And weel could dance the Highland walloch; How happy 1, had she been mine, Or I'd been Roy of Aldivalloch.

Roy's wife, &c. Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,

Roy's wife of Aldivalloch; Wat ye how she cheated me,

As I came o'er the braes of Balloch.
Her hair sae fair, her e'en sae clear,

Her wee bit mou', sae sweet and bonny,
To me she ever will be dear,
Tho'she's forever left her Johnny.

Roy's wife, &c.
Roy's wife of Aldivalloch,

Roy's wife of Aldivalloch; Wat ye how she cheated me,

As I came o'er the braes of Balloch.
But Roy's age is three times mine,

I think his days will nae be mony,
And when the earl's dead and gone,
She'll, may be rue and tak' her Johnny.

Roy's wife, &c.

THE SOLDIER'S ADIEU.-By Dibdin. Adieu, adieu, my only life,

My honor calls me from thee, Remember thou’rt a soldier's wife,

Those tears but ill become thee; What though by duty I am call'd,

When thundering cannons ratile, Where valor's self might stand appallid Where valor's self might stand appallid

When on the wings of thy dear love,

To heaven above
Thy fervent orisons are flown,

The tender pray’r thou puttest up there,
Shall call a guardian angel down,
Shall call a guardian angel down,

To watch me in the battle. , My safety thy fair truth shall be

As sword and buckler serving, My life shall be more dear to me,

Because of thy preserving : Let peril come, let horror threat,

Let thundering cannons rattle, I fearless seek the conflict's heat;

Assured when on the wings of love,

To heaven above, &c.
Enough, with that benignant smile

Some kindred god inspired thee,
Who saw thy bosom void of guile,

Who wonder'd and admir'i thee: I go assured, my life, adieu,

Though thundering cannons rattle,
Though murdering carnage stalk in view,

When on the wings of thy true love,
To heaven above, &c.

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HIGHLAND MARY.-By R. Burns.
Yr banks and braes, and streams around

The castle of Montgomery,
Green be your woods, and fair your flowers,

Your waters never drumlie;
There simmer first unfaulds her robes,

And there they langest tarry;
For there I took the last farewell

Of my dear Highland Mary.
How sweetly bloom'd the gay green birk,

How rich the lawthorn's blossom;
As underneatli ber fragrant shade

I clasp'd her to my bosom!
The golden hours on angel wings,
Flew o'er me and

my dearie;
For dear to me as light and life,

Was my sweet Highland Mary.
Wi’ mony a vow and lock'd embrace,

Our parting was fu' tender;
And pledging aft to meet again,

We tore ourselves asunder.
But 0 ! fell death's untimely frost,

That nipt my flower sae early ;
Now green's the sod, and cauld's the clay

That wraps ny Highland Mary.
O pale, pale now those rosy lips,

I oft hae kiss d sae fondly ;
And closed for aye the sparkling glance

That dwelt on ne sae kindly !
And mouldering now in silent dust

That heart that lo'ed me dearly';
But still within my bosom's core

Shall live my Highland Mary.

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HAIL TO THE CHIEF.

Hail to the Chief, who in triumph advances,

Honor'd and blest be the cvergreen pive; Long may the tree in his banner that glances, Flourish the shelter and grace of our line.

Heaven send it happy dew,

Earih lend it sap anew;
Gaily to bourgeon, and broadly to grow;

While every highland glen,

Send our shout back aren,
Roderigh Vich Alpine Dhu, ho? ieroe!"
Ours is no sapling, chance-sown by the fountain,

Blooming at Beliane, in wiiter to fide; (tain, When the whirlwind has siript every leaf on the moule The more shall Clan Alpine exuli in her shade.

Moor'd in the rified rock,

Proof 10 the tempest's shock, Firmer he roots him, the ruder it blow;

Menteith and Breadalbane, then,

Echo his praise agen, « Roderigh Vich Alpine Dhu, ho! ieroe !" Proudly our pibroch lias thrill?) in Glen Fruin,

And Banochar's groans to our slogan replied, Glen Luss and Ross Dhi, they are smoking in ruin, And the best of Loch Lomond lie dead on her side:

Widow and Saxon maid,

Long shall lament our rade,
Think of Clan Alpine with tear and with woe.

Lenox and Leven glen,

Shake when they hear agen, “Roderigh Vich Alpine Dhu, lo ! ieroe !" Row, vassals, row, for the pride of the highlands!

Siretch to your oars for the evergreen pine! O that the rose-bud that graces yoi islands, Were wreath'd in a garland around him io twine.

O that some seeding gem,

Worthy such noble stem,
Honor'd and blest in their shadow may grow;

Loud should Clan Alpine then,

Ring through her deepmost glen, Roderigh Vich Alpinc Dhu, ho! ieroe!

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