THE BURNS AND ANNIVERSARY.

Auckland Star, Volume XIX, Issue 23, 28 January 1888, Page 3 (Supplement)

THE BURNS AND ANNIVERSARY.

{Read at the annual Burns Club gathering on 25tE

January, 1888.)

In Auckland, Janwar, eighty-eight, Auld Scotland's sonsaifd daughters gather, For Robin's birth-time «omes the nicht, And we clasp hands wi' ane anither, \And look fflcither in the Ben, - ■ And praise oor auld respeckit mither, "Atfd hear the namely, kiadly tongue We a" in childhood lisped thegither.

What ttibugh the times are hard arid dour 1 They winna mend by melancholy; We'll steal a nicht free crabbit care, - And cheer ca3h"bthei r and bejolly! W.e're-a' John Tamson's kindly bairns, And R63IN was oor dearest britlier; And kith and kin and natiye laud Can frae oor hearts be sundered ndverl

Though far awa' frae Scotland's hame,, She's aye OQr watchword and oof glory; Oor warm blood rises at her name—

Oor hearts beat prbodly at her story 1 'The staunch auld land* the true auld land. ~ The brave auld land, the proodauld landt ' The free auld land, the fair auld land. The dear auld land, the good auld land! i&Fr weel we lo'e her ane and a',, . -i h ; -v , . Qn Earth's round globe she is the dearest, *A"nd''wh"ei'eso'er her childrengp, , ' They keep her memory- greenest, fairest I 'And Bae; thismichivwe here combine .^■Tae pree thegither auld Scots fare— ' Tae sing the sarigs 6' auld lahgsyne, 'And'hearbo'r martial bagpipes Dlaro. And lang may we New Zealand-Scots Prize the dear land that bore us, And think wi' pride o' patriots 1 And heroes gane'before us; Keepiri' the causey's croon >the while j Wi' honest independence;, ; ..-. Fearin 1 for nae man's frown or smile, "But only God abbbiius! The ane o' Scotland's glorious jsonii. j-. - Wbase memory, we this flich.t revere— Brave, kindly, honest Robert Burns, Whase name tao every Scot is'dear. Burns is auld Scotland's manly 50n,.... •And Scotland BurKs's weiyoe'd^mithep; While heather grows and water rpws, ' Their names maun aye be named tnegithort "Keleftus tor a.brighter.name. Whaur Poortith disna pelt the Bard ; And though he got for bread a stane, Yet nob his laurel wreath we guard-. " But though he's dead* he's speaking herr ■ • Wi'igenius, lov.e, and a' that, , "Till man to man, the warld owre, ' 'Shairbfithors be, and a' that 1" M. S, PEAOBJ;