THE

FARE WELL

TO THE

BRETHREN OF ST. JAMES'S LODGE,

TARBOLTON.

Tune-'GOOD NIGHT, AND JOY BE WI' YOU A'!'

I.

Adieu! a heart-warm, fond adieu!

Dear brothers of the mystic tye! Ye favour'd, ye enlighten'd few,

Companions of my social joy!

Tho'

Tho' I to foreign lands must hie,

Pursuing Fortune's slidd’ry ba', With melting heart, and brimful eye,

I'll mind you still, tho' far awa'.

II.

Oft have I met your social band,

, And spent the cheerful, festive night; Oft, honour'd with supreme command,

Presided o'er the sons of light: And by that hieroglyphic bright,

Which none but craftsmen ever saw ! Strong mem'ry on my heart shall write

Those happy scenes when far awa'.

III.

May freedom, harmony, and love,
Unite

you

in the grand design, Beneath th' omniscient eye above,

' The glorious architect divine ! That you may keep th' unerring line,

Still rising by the plummet's law, Till order bright completely shine,

Shall be my pray'r when far awa'.

IV.

And you

farewell! whose merits claim, Justly, that highest badge to wear! Heav'n bless your honour'd, noble name,

To Masonry and Scotia dear! A last request permit me here,

When yearly ye assemble a', One round, I ask it with a tear,

To him, the Bard that's far awa':

SONG,

SON G.

Tune- PREPARE, MY DLAB BRETHREN,

"TO THE TAVERN LET'S FLY.'

I.

No churchman am I for to rail and to write,
No statesman or soldier to plot or to fight,
No sly man of business contriving a snare,
For a big-belly'd bottle's the whole of my care.

II.

The peer I don't envy, I give him his bow;
I scorn not the peasant, tho' ever so low;
But a club of good fellows, like those that are here,
And a bottle like this, are my glory and care.

Here

passes the squire on his brother-his horse; There centum per centum, the cit with his

purse; But see you the crown how it waves in the air, There a big-belly'd bottle still eases my care.

IV.

The wife of my bosom, alas! she did die
For sweet consolation to church I did fly;
I found that old Solomon proved it fair,
That a big-belly'd bottle's a cure for all care,

V.

I once was persuaded a venture to make;
A letter inform'd me that all was to wreck ;
But the pursy old landlord just waddled up stairs,
With a glorious bottle that ended my cares. .