J. AND R. PARLANE, PAISLEY.
JOHN MENZIES AND CO., EDINBURGH AND GLASGOW.
HOULSTON AND SONS, LONDON.

1893,

APM 4437

ΤΟ

THE MEN AND WOMEN OF THE MERSE,

NOT ONLY IN SCOTLAND

BUT IN EVERY PART OF THE WORLD,

WHO HAVE NEVER FORGOT THEIR NATIVE COUNTY,

3 Dedicate

FOR DEAR MEMORY'S SAKE

THESE SKETCHES

OF ITS SONGS AND SINGERS.

It may be glorious to write

Thoughts that shall glad the two or three
High souls, like those far stars that come in sight
Once in a century ;—

But better far it is to speak

One simple word, which now and then Shall waken their free nature in the weak And friendless sons of nien;

To write some earnest verse or line,
Which, seeking not the praise of art,

Shall make a clearer faith and manhood shine
In the untutored heart.

He who doth this, in verse or prose,

May be forgotten in his day,

But surely shall be crowned at last with those

Who live and speak for aye.

-JAMES RUSSELL LOWELL.

DEAR native Merse! a glorious plain,

I

Streak'd wi' the sunbeams, mild and sweet gaze far o'er thy fair domain,

Where true hearts in their gladness beat;

I come to tread thy fields again,

Where long my fathers till'd thy soil, And with thee and thy sons remain, Till there I end life's ceaseless toil.

All that I love on earth is there,

Land of my fathers! happy land : Be virtuous all thy daughters fair,

And all thy sons in honour stand!

May tyrants and their minions flee

Far from the Merse's bounds away! May truth and genius dwell in thee! Thy toiling sons be glad for aye!

The land of Boston and M'Crie,

Where Erskine preached and Baillie sung, Where, by the Leader's haughs and lea,

The Rhymer's wizard harp was strung!

There, o'er thy waters, woods, and rills,
My heart will pour its warmest lay;
While morn and eve athwart thy hills,

Shall all their varied charms display.

No land e'er blessed by sun or shower,
Beneath the wide skies' azure dome,
Will e'er to me look half so fair

As that which holds my native home!

Though bleak and bare thy hills may be,
Though winter tempests scathe thy plain,
O Merse! I could not part with thee,
For all the gold beyond the main.

-DR. GEORGE HENDErson.