Janet Hamilton

1795-1873 / Scotland

Auld Scotland's Welcome To Garibaldi

I wadna bid ye welcome here
In Southern phrase; I wadna speir
What was the erran' brocht ye here;
But soul, and heart, and tongue shall cheer,
And welcome Garibaldi!
The warm bluid's swellin' like the tide
Through my auld heart; the saut tears glide
Adown my cheek, for joy and pride,
To shake yer haun', and, side by side,
Staun' wi' my Garibaldi!
I ca' ye mine, for ye're the brither
O' my ain Wallace; twa sic ither
Ne'er leeved upon the yirth thegither.
Blest amang women was the mither
That bore thee, Garibaldi!
Welcome! oh welcome to our shore!
Nae trumpet blast, nae cannon's roar
Shall welcome gi'e; yet ne'er before
Did guest mair welcome tread our shore-
Sae welcome, Garibaldi!
Guid guide thee by the gins and traps
Set by thae wild assassin chaps-
Aye casting bombs amang the Naps;
When ye're in Lunnon, frae their traps
Keep far, guid Garibaldi.
Thy generous heart richt sair maun be
Aye to deny puir Poland's plea-
Nae help the brave Magyars to gi'e-
Nor gallant Denmark, stout but wee;
They a' need Garibaldi.
Oh war the heather in the bell,
I'd guide ye thro' the hills mysel',
Whaur Freedom's standard never fell;
Whaur hill and rock wi' echoing swell,
Wad welcome Garibaldi!
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