A standard light, in peace and war,
Is our Society surely,
Since darksome days round Lochnagar
are seen but rarely.
Yet we hae ane wha leads his men,
To higher peaks, in kilts or breeks,
Where Art now reins, so for his pains
bid him drink till bleary.
We saw our chief last meeting ride,
His hobby horse so cheer’ly,
When photographs were scattered wide
He told us then o’ hill and glen
What light and shade our pictures made;
Where portraits, too, were false or true,
Wha wadna’ join our noble chief
And wrestle till he’s weary,
To bring our camera’s foes to grief
make them lo’e her dearly.
The time’s at hand, let’s firmly stand,
Our RSA shall lead the way,
Then man to man, do what you can,.
make the union early.
brush and camera must unite,
lovers live in sorrow
room with non-actinic light
They want to beg or borrow.
let us all obey the call
clear the gloom, and get a room,
Art has blest, the plate’s impressed,
Development must follow.
So Norman up and let’s awa’,
We can no longer parley,
On tripod legs, though Nature draw
Art we need it sorely.
Yes! Art must
go where cameras go
With all who climb the hill of fame;
Well - that infers photographers,
Are artists - that’s
Last night our Council bravely sat
Upon a poor old woman,
Some members said that she was flat
that was only human
Diston in Fife must end the
And Glasgow too, if she be
Till each and all hang on his wall,
That picture called “The Gloamin”.
But why this fuss to get a print
When photos are so plenty?
Among our members, there’s a mint
pictures they look dainty.
Then turn them out, nor let us doubt
That graceful Art has played her part,
If not enough, ne’er
mind a snuff -,
try a little paint. Eh!
Presented at the EPS