I've met him in a silken robe, Wi' titles to his name, But high or low, or rich or poor, The thinking head, the feeling heart, In peasant as in peer. Nae sma suspicious thochts disturb, His faith in human worth, He still believes there's such a thing, As friendship upon earth. He calls things by their proper names, With him a knave's a knave, A prince may be a beggar born, A lord may be a slave. He never sanctions party work, With either tongue or pen, And love your fellow men." He never speaks but as he thinks, Ae face can always serve his turn, E'en for the very warst o' folk, And finds some hidden virtue in Who still for poor humanity, And does it through a brother's love ON THE PRICE'S VISIT. Come sound a welcome to the Prince, In honour of Old England's hope, O may our land of maple green, The brightest gem in Britain's crown, Long may our sons and sires rejoice, Each heart leap at the story, Of Britain's right of Britain's might, Of Britain's power and glory. Long may she rear the sturdy race, The brain and bone that made her throne, Long may she reign o'er art's domain, Her flag in peace be furled, And on her isle sit throned the while, Long may she have a loyal race, And be their humble hearths secure, Her merchant prince's navies, And still a long succeeding line, And in her Legislative halls, When truth with falsehood tussels, O may she never lack the breed, Of Hampdens and of Russells ; The homebred knaves in church or state, May British pluck undo'em, And smite him with the thunders of A Chatham and a Brougham. Long may she keep an iron duke, And when upon her distant plains, She'll send a Highland hurricane, may she never strike the blow, But still be hers the powerful arm, And thinking head to guide it. May wisdom guide the Prince's heart, |