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Updated: May 27, 2025
Scotia's darling seat, All hail thy palaces and towers, Where once, beneath a monarch's feet, Sate legislation's sovereign powers. "This, then, is Edinburgh?" said the youth, as the fellow-travellers arrived at one of the heights to the southward, which commanded a view of the great northern capital "This is that Edinburgh of which we have heard so much!"
Lindsay, is the farm of Lochlea, and yonder brown cottage, beside the three elms, is the dwelling of my parents." "From scenes like these old Scotia's grandeur springs, That makes her lov'd at home, revered abroad." Cotter's Saturday Night. There was a wide and cheerful circle this evening round the hospitable hearth of Lochlea.
"A stranger arrived from a far and foreign country. His was a mind peculiarly humble, tremblingly alive to its own deficiencies. Yet, endowed with this mistrust, he sighed for information, and his soul thirsted in the pursuit of knowledge. Thus constituted, he sought the city he had long dreamingly looked up to as the site of truth Scotia's capital, the modern Athens.
Why wait till of hope bereft For that fair young girl the river Be the only refuge left? Come! help us, answer the message Now pealing across the seas "A home and a hearty welcome For hundreds such as these!" It comes from broad Ontario, And from Nova Scotia's shore; They have loved and sheltered our gathered waifs, They have room for thousands more.
He was not perhaps altogether unmoved by their insane advices to him, one of the greatest of lyrical poets, a singer above all to write a tragedy, to give up the language he knew and write his poetry in the high English which, alas! he uses in his letters. Not unmoved, and seriously inclining to a more lofty measure, he compounded addresses to Edinburgh: "Edina, Scotia's darling seat!"
Early, one misty, smoky morning, I embarked in one of the famous little Clyde steamers, and set out on a Highland tour. I had heard of old Scotia's barren hills, clothed with the purple heather and the yellow gorse, of her deep glens, of her romantic streams; but the reality went far beyond the description, or my imagination.
But this reply proved nothing, other than how bullheaded the harpooner could be. That day I pressed him no further. The Scotia's accident was undeniable. Its hole was real enough that it had to be plugged up, and I don't think a hole's existence can be more emphatically proven.
He was clever and took great pains, and was always delighted to have our social gatherings of the highest standard, and no doubt he took notice of the beauties of nature in this, to us, new country, and watched the coming forth and maturing of Nova Scotia's idol, the mayflower.
As they tell us the Purse-Bearer is most rigorous in arranging these functions and issuing the invitations, I presume she must be Mrs. Macstronachlacher; but if so, they marry very young in Scotland, and her skirts should really have been longer!" It is our last day in 'Scotia's darling seat, our last day in Breadalbane Terrace, our last day with Mrs.
He stooped his lips to the rim of his glass, and sipped, lest a drop of Scotia's nectar should escape him. They faced each other, sitting. "Here's pith!" said Gibson. "Pith!" said the other in chorus, and they nodded to each other in amity, primed glasses up and ready. And then it was eyes heavenward and the little finger uppermost.
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