IV.

When want assails the widow’s cot,
Or sickness strikes the poor man’s hut,
When blasting winds or foggy rot
Augment the farmer’s loss: 
The sufferer straight knows where to go,
With all his wants and all his woe;
For glad experience leads him to
The worthy Man of Ross.

V.

This Man of Ross I ’ll daily sing,
With vocal note and lyric string,
And duly, when I ’ve drank the king,
He ’ll be my second toss. 
May Heaven its choicest blessings send
On such a man, and such a friend;
And still may all that ’s good attend
The worthy Man of Ross.

VI.

Now, if you ask about his name,
And where he lives with such a fame,
Indeed, I ’ll say you are to blame,
For truly, inter nos,
’Tis what belongs to you and me,
And all of high or low degree,
In every sphere to try to be
The worthy Man of Ross.

A SONG ON THE TIMES.

TUNE—­"Broom of the Cowdenknows."

I.

When I began the world first,
It was not as ’tis now;
For all was plain and simple then,
And friends were kind and true: 
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! 
The times that I now see;
I think the world ’s all gone wrong,
From what it used to be.

II.

There were not then high capering heads,
Prick’d up from ear to ear;
And cloaks and caps were rarities,
For gentle folks to wear: 
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

III.

There ’s not an upstart mushroom now,
But what sets up for taste;
And not a lass in all the land,
But must be lady-dress’d: 
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

IV.

Our young men married then for love,
So did our lasses too;
And children loved their parents dear,
As children ought to do: 
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

V.

For oh, the times are sadly changed—­
A heavy change indeed! 
For truth and friendship are no more,
And honesty is fled: 
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

VI.

There ’s nothing now prevails but pride,
Among both high and low;
And strife, and greed, and vanity,
Is all that ’s minded now: 
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! &c.

VII.

When I look through the world wide,
How times and fashions go,
It draws the tears from both my eyes,
And fills my heart with woe: 
Oh, the times, the weary, weary times! 
The times that I now see;
I wish the world were at an end,
For it will not mend for me!

WILLIAM CAMERON.