Hector Macneill Poems
Comments about Hector Macneill
On Admiral Lord Nelson's Sending In The Hour Of Victory, A Flag Of Truce To Stop The Further Effusi
Again the tide of rapture swells;
Britannia sees new trophies rise;
Again the trump of vict'ry tells
That with the brave compassion lies!
In vain the carnage of the field!
In vain the conquest of the main!
The brave may bleed - the brave may yield,
'Tis Mercy binds the brave again!
True to the dictates of the heart
That melts to pity's godlike glow,
Humanity arrests the dart,
Half wing'd, to lay the vanquish'd low;
Swift through the battle's thund'ring storm;
See! deck'd in smiles she takes her stand;
Assumes her Nelson's fav'rite ...
To Get A Man
This warld is a lottery, as ilk ane may ken;
There are prizes for women as weel as for men:
But as far as my faither and mither can see,
Though the're prizes for some, there aye blanks for me!
Though black, I'm comely; my een's like a slae!
Odd! I'm sure they're far better than een that are grey?
Yet the lads they court Katey as fast as they can,
While my father aye tells me - I'll never get a man.