No more to sigh, or shed the tear,
Together hymning their Creator’s praise,
In such society, yet still more dear;
While circling time moves round in an eternal sphere.”
As he tells the touching and familiar story, a glow of honest pride in his native land kindles in his breast, and he places the chaplet of honor upon the brow of pious poverty.
“From scenes like these, old Scotia’s grandeur springs
That make her loved at home, reveered abroad.
Princes and Lords are but the breath of Kings,
An honest man’s the noblest work of God.”