Read, read,WoodstockandWaverley,Turn every page and read forward in order;Read, read, every tale cleverly,All the old novels are over the border.Many a book lies dead,Dusty and never read,Many a chiel wants a thread to his story;While Walter, that king o' men,Just with his single pen,Like a giant, wellgrogged, marches on in his glory!Come from your tales full of murders amazing,Come from romaunts gone to bed long ago;Come from the scribblers whom pye-men are praising,Come toRedgauntletand braveIvanhoe!Scott's fame is sounding,Readers abounding,May laurels long circle his locks thin and hoary!Scotland shall many a daySpeak of her bard, and say,He lived for his country, and wrote for her glory!
Read, read,WoodstockandWaverley,Turn every page and read forward in order;Read, read, every tale cleverly,All the old novels are over the border.Many a book lies dead,Dusty and never read,Many a chiel wants a thread to his story;While Walter, that king o' men,Just with his single pen,Like a giant, wellgrogged, marches on in his glory!Come from your tales full of murders amazing,Come from romaunts gone to bed long ago;Come from the scribblers whom pye-men are praising,Come toRedgauntletand braveIvanhoe!Scott's fame is sounding,Readers abounding,May laurels long circle his locks thin and hoary!Scotland shall many a daySpeak of her bard, and say,He lived for his country, and wrote for her glory!
Read, read,WoodstockandWaverley,Turn every page and read forward in order;Read, read, every tale cleverly,All the old novels are over the border.Many a book lies dead,Dusty and never read,Many a chiel wants a thread to his story;While Walter, that king o' men,Just with his single pen,Like a giant, wellgrogged, marches on in his glory!
Read, read,WoodstockandWaverley,
Turn every page and read forward in order;
Read, read, every tale cleverly,
All the old novels are over the border.
Many a book lies dead,
Dusty and never read,
Many a chiel wants a thread to his story;
While Walter, that king o' men,
Just with his single pen,
Like a giant, wellgrogged, marches on in his glory!
Come from your tales full of murders amazing,Come from romaunts gone to bed long ago;Come from the scribblers whom pye-men are praising,Come toRedgauntletand braveIvanhoe!Scott's fame is sounding,Readers abounding,May laurels long circle his locks thin and hoary!Scotland shall many a daySpeak of her bard, and say,He lived for his country, and wrote for her glory!
Come from your tales full of murders amazing,
Come from romaunts gone to bed long ago;
Come from the scribblers whom pye-men are praising,
Come toRedgauntletand braveIvanhoe!
Scott's fame is sounding,
Readers abounding,
May laurels long circle his locks thin and hoary!
Scotland shall many a day
Speak of her bard, and say,
He lived for his country, and wrote for her glory!