Lang Syne
How oft in life's gloaming in mem'ry I'm roaming
That dear land for which still in spirit I pine;
Once more a young rover, in joy wand'ring over
The green fields all hallow'd with mem'ries divine.
The lark gladly soaring, his anthem down-pouring,
As if from the fountain of music divine;
The whole air is reeling with jubilant feeling,
More deep than the rapture that flows from the vine.
Once more in life's morning young Hope is adorning
The future with treasures that never can tine;
Her sweet song she's singing, her magic she's flinging
Around a fair creature — oh, were she but mine!
Love's rapturous feeling thro' ev'ry vein stealing,
How joyful we pour out the spirit's red wine;
Life all an emotion of love and devotion,
How changed, oh, how changed since the days o' lang syne!
Life's day is declining, a' nature is dwining,
And ev'rything wearing an aspect forlorn;
Tho' dark is life's setting, there's yet nae forgetting
The glory that gilded the breaking of morn.
That dear land for which still in spirit I pine;
Once more a young rover, in joy wand'ring over
The green fields all hallow'd with mem'ries divine.
The lark gladly soaring, his anthem down-pouring,
As if from the fountain of music divine;
The whole air is reeling with jubilant feeling,
More deep than the rapture that flows from the vine.
Once more in life's morning young Hope is adorning
The future with treasures that never can tine;
Her sweet song she's singing, her magic she's flinging
Around a fair creature — oh, were she but mine!
Love's rapturous feeling thro' ev'ry vein stealing,
How joyful we pour out the spirit's red wine;
Life all an emotion of love and devotion,
How changed, oh, how changed since the days o' lang syne!
Life's day is declining, a' nature is dwining,
And ev'rything wearing an aspect forlorn;
Tho' dark is life's setting, there's yet nae forgetting
The glory that gilded the breaking of morn.
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