The Jackson standard. [volume] (Jackson C.H., Ohio) 1847-1888, 1886-01-28
Echoes! /!
LINES WRITTEN ON BURNS BIRTHDAY.

oh, wake, my harp-lst once again thy strain,
That strain which oft in weak ambition fell,
| Arouse the joys of Scottish hill and plain
OF beetling cliff, or storied woodland dell;
And while thy weak and timid numbers swell
Above the tumult of the passing hour,
In fondest strains, oh, let their music tell
The pleasing story of that magic pow'r
That found wealth of song beneath each tiny how'r
From crag to crag hear the echoes ring,
| Like a soft answer to the fancy's dream,
| And down the years their tender whispers bring
golden thought along Iifes silver stream;
| And by its Shores with many brilliant CLEAN,
| see reflected as in vision far,
| A wayward light, which falls, with fitting beam
fwi1d, romantic thought, on cliff and scar
And sadly tells of MARY, to lyon lingering STAR"
| BY winding Ayr the light of Genius breaks,
| The plow-boy, happy, greets the cheerful ray;
Along the gently flowing stream awakes
| The sad. sweet measures of his tuneful lay;
While round the humble PEASANTS cottage play
The lasting glory of the Muses. CROWN
The feathered songsters, joyful, bless the day
The mountain streams with glee come rushing
down,
To sing of one who knew both Fortunes smile and
frown.
Back through the past, the echoes, singing still
The melody of Caledonia's strains,
With joyful chimes the happy moments fill
The fame of Highland lochs or Lowland plains,
Where yet the glory of the bard remains
TO NIL the he2rt Win nODle m1nSLrelSy-
Where silver streamets break their mountain chains,
To bear his praises onward to the sea-
And paint the PEASANTS glory for millions yet to be.
Where Love reclined by Atoms ripping tide,
And formed its airy castles, tall and strong,
Where heart with heart rejoced in youthful pride,
And blest the passing hour with tender song
To scenes like these win loyal memories throng
With fitting tribute to the poets fame,
To scenes like these our words of praise belong,
Where prandest. brightest, burned the Muses.
flame
And scotland's hills rejoced to hearthat magic
That merry genius which, in pressing haste,
With Tam O'Shanter rushed by Alloway,
Or softly trod the hawthornes snowy waste
And sang its love-songs to the morning gray,
Touches the heart-strings like falling spray
Ofheather from its native mountain-side,
And glad and free the soft vibrations play,
AS back, along Times fast-receding tide,
In cadence soft and sweet is borne Nations pride.
There comes measure from the Banks of Tweed
A thrilling song, in simple Scottish lays
Its varied notes exalt the knightly deed,
Or grandly swell in simple manhoods praise;
Above that spot where Scotland's glory plays,
And where the Muses. quickened fancies spring,
The voice of Clyde poetic thought portrays-
The Devons shores sweetly answering:
1.-THE humble Ayrshire plow-boy is greater than
King.
Louder and louder still that phantom song
Is floating far above the wood anp Wllo,
And through its notes still breathes affection strong
That filed the heart of Scotland's loyal child;
Though oft in honest poverty revird,
That heart arose, above its lowly plane,
To grander heights, where Fortune sweetly smird
To hear the beauty of its pensive strain
Where untold triumphs followed In the MUSES.
train.
Hark! Softly trembling on the mountain wave
That marks the outline of the distant sea.
The voice of Scotia sweety sings her brave
Columbia chimes the chorus of the free;
In noble song let these united be-
A song that every mortal sorrow spurns-
Where Freedom stands beside its parent-tree,
And to that wild, romantic song returns
rhe joy feel to hear the name of Robert Burns.