To a town in Southern land
Light of purse I come and lone;
And I pause awhile, and stand
By a pedestal of stone;
And I bend my head and bow
While my heart to Scotland turns,
For I know I-m standing now
-Neath the form of Robbie Burns.

Round the corners of the lips
Lines of laughter seem to run;
From the merry eye there slips
Just a twinkle as of fun.
Living in the sculptor-s art,
Set in stone, mine eye discerns
All the beauty, and a part
Of the soul, of Robert Burns.

One of Caledonia-s sons,
Coming lonely to the land.
Well might think he-d met a friend
Who would take him by the hand,
And the tears spring to his eyes,
While his heart for friendship yearns;
And from out that heart he cries,
-Heaven bless ye, Bobbie Burns.�

-Unto me, as unto you,
Has a hard world done ill turns;
And the sorrows that you knew
I am learning Bobbie Burns.
But I-ll keep my heart above
Until, after many moons,
I return to friends I love,
And to banks line bonnie Doon-s.�