"And there he sadly struggles on, A heavy laden hack, And oh, how often in the midst, But time must not be wasted thus, Or want will catch him in the vale, "Now see him bending on his staff, And this new generation's ways, He cannot understand, So changed is all,-he feels himself A stranger in the land. "And o'er the happy days of youth, He will, he must repine, For oh, the world is nothing now, To what it was lang syne; And memory's lamp is waning fast, With faint and fitful gleam, The living and the dead are mixed, Like phantoms in a dream. "But childhood's streams are laughing yet, Its fields are fresh and fair, And now, a little boy again, The old man wanders there; Then feeble as a little child, Upon its mother's breast, Resignedly he leans his head, And sinks into his rest." THE GREAT OLD SEA. All hail again Atlantic Sea, I've sought thy sounding shore, An awful world of wonder thou Hast ever been to me, With thy secret caves beneath the waves, Great, old sea. Thou'rt still the same mysterious deep, I listened to thy roar; O how my bosom did expand, When first I gazed on thee, With all thy sweep, as wild as deep, The iron rocks are rent by time, The mountains wear away, The cliffs grow hoary with the years, The hills are old and gray, And generations pass away, Like foam bells upon thee, And when I'm gone thou'lt murmur on, Great, old sea. I love thee when the winds are laid, And thou art all at rest, I love thee when they revel wild But O what can I ever know, Thou myst'ry, thou infinity, I WINNA GAE HAME. I winna gae back to my youthfu' haunts, For they are nae langer fair, The spoiler has been in the glades so green, The plou' has been to the very brink, And beauty has fled wi' the auld yew trees, Young Spring aye cam the earliest there, Alang wi' her dear cuckoo, And the weary Autumn lingered lang And peace aye nestled in ilka nook, For it's always Sabbath among the flours, |