Tell Age it daily wasteth;
Tell Honor how it alters;
Tell Beauty how she blasteth;

Tell Favor how it falters.
And as they shall reply,
Give every one the lie.

Tell Wit how much it wrangles

In tickle points of niceness; Tell Wisdom she entangles

Herself in over-wiseness.
And when they do reply,
Straight give them both the lie.

Tell Physic of her boldness;
Tell Skill it is pretension;
Tell Charity of coldness;

Tell Law it is contention.
And as they do reply,
So give them still the lie.

Tell Fortune of her blindness;
Tell Nature of decay;
Tell Friendship of unkindness;
Tell Justice of delay.

And if they will reply,
Then give them all the lie.

Tell Arts they have no soundness,
But vary by esteeming;

Tell Schools they want profoundness,
And stand too much on seeming.

If Arts and Schools reply,

Give Arts and Schools the lie.

Tell Faith it's fled the city;
Tell how the country erreth;
Tell Manhood shakes off pity;
Tell Virtue least preferreth.
And if they do reply,
Spare not to give the lie.

So when thou hast, as I

Commanded thee, done babbling,
Although to give the lie

Deserves no less than stabbing,

Yet stab at thee who will,

No stab the soul can kill.

29.

SIR WALTER Raleigh (?).

THE LIGHT OF OTHER DAYS.

OFT in the stilly night

Ere slumber's chain has bound me,
Fond Memory brings the light

Of other days around me;
The smiles, the tears
Of boyhood's years,

The words of love then spoken;
The eyes that shone,

Now dimmed and gone,

The cheerful hearts now broken!

Thus in the stilly night

Ere slumber's chain has bound me,

Sad Memory brings the light

Of other days around me.

When I remember all

The friends so linked together
I've seen around me fall

Like leaves in wintry weather,
I feel like one

Who treads alone
Some banquet-hall deserted,
Whose lights are fled,
Whose garlands dead,
And all but he departed!

Thus in the stilly night

Ere slumber's chain has bound me,

Sad Memory brings the light
Of other days around me.

30.

- THOMAS MOORE.

JOHN ANDERSON.

JOHN ANDERSON my jo, John,
When we were first acquent
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is bald, John,
Your locks are like the snow;
But blessings on your frosty pow,
John Anderson my jo.

John Anderson my jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither,
And mony a canty day, John,
We've had wi' ane anither:

Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson my jo.

31.

- ROBERT BURNS.

AULD LANG SYNE.

SHOULD auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to mind?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o' lang syne?

Chorus.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,

We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
And surely I'll be mine;

And we'll tak a cup o' kindness yet
For auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.

foot

We twa hae paidl'd i' the burn,
From morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar'd
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.

And here's a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o' thine;

And we'll tak a right guid willie-waught,

For auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

– ROBERT BURNS.

32.

THE LAND O' THE LEAL.

I'm wearin' awa', John,

Like snaw-wreaths in thaw, John,
I'm wearin' awa'

To the land o' the leal.

There's nae sorrow there, John,
There's neither cauld nor care, John,
The day is aye fair

In the land o' the leal.

Our bonnie bairn's there, John,
She was baith gude and fair, John,
And oh we grudg'd her sair

To the land o' the leal.

But sorrow's sel' wears past, John,
And joy's a-comin' fast, John,
And joy that's aye to last

In the land o' the leal.