CHORUS For auld lang syne, my dear, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, For auld lang syne. And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp, And we 'll tak a cup o' kindness yet We twa hae run about the braes, And pu'd the gowans fine, But we've wandered mony a weary fit Sin' auld lang syne. We twa hae paidl'd in the burn Frae morning sun till dine, But seas between us braid hae roar'd Sin' auld lang syne. And there's a hand, my trusty fiere, And gie's a hand o' thine, And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught 1788. 1796. Robert Burns. 8 12 16 20 24 MY LOST YOUTH OFTEN I think of the beautiful town Often in thought go up and down And a verse of a Lapland song Is haunting my memory still : "A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I can see the shadowy lines of its trees, The sheen of the far-surrounding seas, And the burden of that old song, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I remember the black wharves and the slips, And Spanish sailors with bearded lips, 9 18 And the magic of the sea. 66 And the voice of that wayward song A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I remember the bulwarks by the shore, The sunrise gun with its hollow roar, And the music of that old song 66 thoughts." I remember the sea-fight far away, In their graves, o'erlooking the tranquil bay And the sound of that mournful song A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." I can see the breezy dome of groves, The shadows of Deering's Woods; 27 36 45 And the friendships old and the early loves Come back with a Sabbath sound, as of doves My Lost Youth In quiet neighbourhoods. 66 And the verse of that sweet old song, It flutters and murmurs still: A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." 54 I remember the gleams and glooms that dart The song and the silence in the heart, 66 And the voice of that fitful song Sings on, and is never still: A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." There are things of which I may not speak; There are dreams that cannot die; 63 There are thoughts that make the strong heart weak, And bring a pallor into the cheek, And a mist before the eye. And the words of that fatal song Come over me like a chill: A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." Strange to me now are the forms I meet 72 But the native air is pure and sweet, As they balance up and down, Are singing the beautiful song, Are sighing and whispering still : A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long thoughts." And Deering's Woods are fresh and fair, My heart goes back to wander there, 81 And among the dreams of the days that were, I find my lost youth again. 66 And the strange and beautiful song, The groves are repeating it still: A boy's will is the wind's will, And the thoughts of youth are long, long O WORLD! O life! O time! On whose last steps I climb Trembling at that where I had stood before; When will return the glory of your prime? No more-Oh, never more! |