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The Roarin' Game.
By W. M. MacKeracher
The roarin' game, the roarin' game,
From Scotland's bonnie land it came,
The land of loch and firth and ben,
And comely dames and stalwart men;
It crossed the broad Atlantic tide
With Scots who came to dwell this side,
And bring our country wealth and fame,
The roarin' game, the roarin' game.
The roarin' game, the roarin' game
Makes every land to Scotsmen "hame";
Where'er the winter's breath congeals
The water, see the sturdy "chiels"
With "stane" and besom play and sweep,
Intently gaze, and shout and leap,
With genial fervor all aflame: -
The roarin' game, the roarin' game.
The roarin' game, the roarin' game,
Though stupid folk may think it tame,
Affect the smile that wisdom casts
On rattle-brained enthusiasts,
And jest in condescending tones
Of boys and marbles, men and stones;
'Tis fine enjoyment just the same,
The roarin' game, the roarin' game.
The roarin' game, the roarin' game
Its meed of praise may justly claim:
As firm as ice upon the pond
It is of hearts a brother bond;
It trains us to be wise and true
In all we undertake to do,
And fits for every higher aim,
The roarin' game, the roarin' game,
The roarin' game, the roarin' game
Will never give us cause for shame,
No shattered nerves and aching heads,
Bad consciences and nameless dreads,
But health and strength and minds serene
And kindly hearts and friendly mien:
No honest tongue will e'er defame
The roarin' game, the roarin' game.
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