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Broadside poem entitled: 'Verses on Burns' Centenary'


            V E R S E
       BU R N S '       C E N T E N A R Y.

   The following verses, by the author of " Half-past Ten,"
were written for, and read witih applause at, a Burns' Cen-
tenary Meeting, in Coatbridge,   on the 25th January

A hunder years this verra nicht,                           
Sin' Rabie Burns saw the licht,                              
Nae clearer star auld Scotia's sicht                        
                                  Has seen ava' ;                        
'Mang a' her bards, and some's gey bricht,            
Rab crouns them a'.                  

Auld mither Scotland owes him yet,                        
An' we, her bairns, maun pay the debt ;               
It's, no for fear we could forget                              
Our patriot bard,                        
Bat just to show a wee respect?                                 
                   Some sma' regard.                        

Are we no proud o' what he's sung,                        
Whan thousands hae enraptured hnng                  
    Upon his words, in auld Scotch tongue,                     
                      Fear'd' twad be lost?               
    Till noo, owre a' the earth its rung,                        
                      Our pride an' boast.                  

In foreign lands, whan Scotch folk meet,               
His worth's there felt, 'tis tnen they see't,               
Whan singin' o'er his gangs sae sweet,                     
                   Their han's they twine,            
While tears o'joy their haffets weet                     
                     At Auld Laugsyne.                  


'Tis then they think o' Corn Riggs bonnie,            
O' Nelly, Mary, Jean, an' Annie,                           
His Tam o' Shanter, Souter Johnny,                        
                        An' the wee Mouse,                  
Twa Brigs, Twa Dogs, his auld Mare Maggie,         
                      An' e'en the Louse.                  

He was indeed true nature's chiel',                              
Whilk mak's us a' lo'e him sae weel,                           
Was tae his kintra true as steel ;                                 
                 But touch her honour,            
An' then his pen wad mak' ye feel                        
                        Whar the dishonour.               

   Just read his sangs and poems o'er,                     
   Ye'll see gems ye ne'er saw before,                        
   Tak' Shakespeare, Byron, Scott, an' Moore,         
                        Read a' by turns,                     
   An' then ye'll bless that kindly power                     
                           That gied us Burns.

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Probable date published: 1859   shelfmark: RB.m.143(202)
Broadside poem entitled: 'Verses on Burns' Centenary'
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