that 's meet,
And your country, with laurels in store,
Each weary and toil-worn warrior will greet
When the tumult of battle is o'er.

FOOTNOTES:

[10] Here printed for the first time.

ARCHIBALD MACKAY.

Archibald Mackay was born at Kilmarnock in 1801. Receiving a common
school education, he was apprenticed to a handloom weaver. Abandoning
the loom, he subsequently acquired a knowledge of bookbinding, and has
continued to prosecute that trade. From his youth devoted to the Muse,
he produced in 1828 a metrical tale, entitled "Drouthy Tam," which,
passing through numerous editions, brought a local reputation to the
writer. In 1830 he published a small volume of poems, and in 1832 a
little work in prose and verse, entitled "Recreations of Leisure Hours."
In 1848 appeared from his pen a "History of Kilmarnock," in a
well-written octavo volume. A collection of his best songs was published
in 1855, under the title of "Ingleside Lilts." Mackay has contributed
extensively to the local journals, and has established a circulating
library for the benefit of his fellow-townsmen.

OUR AULD SCOTS SANGS.

AIR--_"Traveller's Return."_

Oh, weel I lo'e our auld Scots sangs,
The mournfu' and the gay;
They charm'd me by a mither's knee,
In bairnhood's happy day:
And even yet, though owre my pow
The snaws of age are flung,
The bluid loups joyfu' in my veins
Whene'er I hear them sung.

They bring the fond smile to the cheek,
Or tear-drap to the e'e;
They bring to mind auld cronies kind,
Wha sung them aft wi' glee.
We seem again to hear the voice
Of mony a lang-lost frien';
We seem again to grip the hand
That lang in dust has been.

And, oh, how true our auld Scots sangs
When nature they portray!
We think we hear the wee bit burn
Gaun bickering doun the brae;
We see the spot, though far awa',
Where first life's breath we drew,
And a' the gowden scenes of youth
Seem rising to the view.

And dear I lo'e the wild war strains
Our langsyne minstrels sung--
They rouse wi' patriotic fires
The hearts of auld and young;
And even the dowie dirge that wails
Some brave but ruin'd band,
Inspires us wi' a warmer love
For hame and fatherland.

Yes, leese me on our auld Scots sangs--
The sangs of love and glee,
The sangs t