The race of spatriots is one;
One faith unites their alien blood—
There’s nothing to be said for mud.”
Now we have the song of the Wee Frees. I wanted this to be rather pathetic, but I’m not sure that I haven’t overdone it. The symbolism, though, is well-nigh perfect, and, after all, the symbolism is the chief thing. This goes to the tune of “Annie Laurie”:—
The Old Black Brolly.
Air—Annie Laurie
Under the Old Umbrella,
Beneath the leaking gamp,
Wrapped up in woolly phrases
We battle with the damp.