ST. ANDREW'S DAY. WRITTEN FOR THE CALEDONIAN CLUB.

Another year hath passed away! Once more, a joyous band, We hail with mirth thy Natal Day, Saint of the Heather Land. For, though we love our Island home, Our "home upon the wave," In Fancy's flights those shores we roam Which Scotia's waters lave. True Scottish hearts, in every clime, This day lift up their voice; And Memory's joy-bells sweetly chime, And wearied souls rejoice, As gorgeously, to longing eyes, Comes forth, in glory bright, Those mountains which the nearing skies O'er-flood with purple light. Again we climb Ben Ledi's steep, Or skim Loch Lomond's tide; Or muse where sunbeams softly creep Through haunts of byegone pride. Again we tread the Solway shore, Or banks of bonnie Dee; Or watch the Forth's proud waters pour Into the Northern Sea. Or gaze upon that tragic field Which ancient minstrel sang; Where warrior died upon his shield As shouts of battle rang. Or hark through Bothwell's ivied towers Soft winds sonatas play; Whilst Clutha, sparkling 'yond the bowers Lights youth's long, golden day. Fair land! beyond all other lands The theme of tale and song; The present and the past clasp hands Thy glory to prolong. Disgrace be his, and lasting shame Who heeds not Heaven's just laws; And, traitor to the Scottish name Who owns not freedom's cause. But hallowed be their memory Who kept thy honor bright; Thy great of every century, Even down to Wallace wight. Now drink we to the heath-clad hills Beloved of bard and sage; The silvery lochs, the rippling rills, The blood-bought heritage! And drink we too, with heart of grace, Victoria the Good! Our queenly queen of Stuart race, That reigned in Holyrood. All honor to our Highland Chief! White-wreathed of glory's crown; Who dignifieth[Note] honors brief His sun shall ne'er go down. And last we honor each and all Of Celt, or Saxon blood; Whose acts attest, in hut or hall God's type of brotherhood.