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Show DR. CONDON'S POEM. Dr. Condon read an original poem, which was received with great applause. ap-plause. It ir. as follows: ROBERT BL'RN'5. Wild heather-bells and Robert Burns! The mooreland flower and peasant! now. at their mention, memory turns, Her pages old nnd pleasant. Whit tier. Come cronies a' lei's live again Auld Scotia's heydays over. Let's hear the crickets 1' the grain, The be2s amang the clover. O. Plowman 1" the wakeless sleep. The constant world still lingers, WI" longing heart to hear thee sweep Thy harp wl" magic lingers. Where joy abounTls wl' wings outspread, Or lovers' hearts be broken. In every land where thoughts ar said. Thy name is gently spoken. Then slog: tonight the songs he sang, Haply tliolr burden tnrry. O" Bonny Doon the braes amnng, And o' Sweet Highland Alary. Trie mists mill hldo the Crnlgle hills, Wrapped 1' the twilight's gloaming. And dreamily purl the wlmpllng rllle, Wheri fallow deer arc roaming. The llnnotn choir on heather sprnv, Pour floods of pastoral splendor. Above whore time slow wastes away, Their fellow minstrel tender. And r.tUl across the azure skv. The lark is heavenward winginc:, Warbling sweet airs of ecstacv. Till heaven with song Is ringing. The star serene whose lessening ray Gave morn lis earlv greeting, Sclll pnles as when that fateful day Beheld the farewell meeting. Among1 the birch and hawthorn hoar, Where conscious birds were singing, And wanton winds alnng tljo shore, Tholr Incense sweet were bringing. Time cannot dim nor distance rob The aoiil Its blithesome pleasures. Nor dull tho pulses Joyful throb, Where owoll thy harp's wild measures. And. listening, a" the clouds of grief Are fringed with sunshine -golden; And scones forgot turn leaf by leaf, To vletas sweet and olden. They smoothe the wrinkled brow of toil, And middens turn to bowers; The Prince Is ane who digs the soil,-And soil,-And wreathes. his plow with flowers. Thy runic songs. O. tuneful Avr Btlll tells of Scotlnnd'a. glory; Thy banks and braes are still as fair, But who'll recite the story! The world applauds while Scotia names The lesson and the teacher; Or from her Olivet proclaims The sermon nnd the preacher. And If at times the riot thought To basor solf appealing. Betrays the evil thlng3 that ought To dio' without revealing, Remembor finite man Is dust. This side the crowning portal. And to bo 'faish'd wl' fleshy lust," Ik proof he's only mortal. It Is not where his home Is at, in palace hall or hovel, "For a man s a man for a that," If he's on the square and civil. YotiDg Robert Adams had to respond to a recall after ho had sung "Love Me arid the World is Mine." lie camo back with "Annie Laurie." and was the recipient of a bouquet of handsome Howci3, handed to on the stage. Little Miss Craig, tho sister of the piper, gave the Highland sword dancj and a few minuet.H, and danced the "Sailors' Hornpipe" to a bagpipe accompaniment.' ac-companiment.' 1 Tho other recall was that, of Mrs. J. H. Spargo. Her first number on tho programme was "My Nannie's Awn." by Burns; , being recalled, she suiig "The Lass o' Cowrie." After the musical programme was completed, the chairs worn removed from the-'hnll. After an interval of ten ininules the grand march was started, start-ed, Mr. Craig, the piper, in full Highland High-land costume, playing "The Cock o' tho North," with tho bagpipes. With him was his little sister, who had danced the Scottish dances, ,-vnd behind be-hind them two hundred couples. After that Short's orchestra plnyod the mu-' sic, and a modern ball follownd. After the dance tables wen; placed in tho same bull, and the guests sat down to a royal banquet, in which tho "haggis" "hag-gis" was served in addition to the modern viands. |
