56
poems.
FOR "AULD LANG SYNE."
For Auld Lang Syne! What magic spell
Sheds o'er those words such sacred power?
Of past and cherished joys to tell,
To speak of many a vanished hour?
Sheds o'er those words such sacred power?
Of past and cherished joys to tell,
To speak of many a vanished hour?
That pure and magic spell I greet:
My spirit turns to Auld Lang Syne;
For heart with kindred heart can meet,
And lay its gift on memory's shrine.
My spirit turns to Auld Lang Syne;
For heart with kindred heart can meet,
And lay its gift on memory's shrine.
Is it not joyous to recall
The bliss which childhood only knows?
When life 1s light and sunshine all,
Nor Time has stained life's thornless rose?
The bliss which childhood only knows?
When life 1s light and sunshine all,
Nor Time has stained life's thornless rose?
For Auld Lang Syne! Thy cherished place
Is void amid thy father's home.
No longer there thy form we trace,
No longer there thy footsteps roam.
Is void amid thy father's home.
No longer there thy form we trace,
No longer there thy footsteps roam.
The stranger's soil thy steps have pressed,
And stranger hearts around thee glow.
Thyself,—how cherished and how blest,
The "Love left drooping here " may know.
And stranger hearts around thee glow.
Thyself,—how cherished and how blest,
The "Love left drooping here " may know.
Long in the heart thy form shall dwell,
Thine image, fond affection share;
And each succeeding day shall tell
That thou art still remembered there.
Thine image, fond affection share;
And each succeeding day shall tell
That thou art still remembered there.
