Glen Collection of printed music > Printed text > Caledonian songster

6 9
jf.il (aw where mony a ane had faf>
And hung on mony a chair,
, Till foft rememb'rance threw a veil
Acrofs thefe e'en o* mine*
I fhut the door and fobb'd aloud
To think on auld lang fyne.
A new fprung race o* motley kind
.Would now their welcome p?.y,
Wha fhudder'd at my gothic wa's,
And wifh'd my groves away :
* s Cut, cut thefe gloomy trees," they cried?
" Lay low yon mournfu' pine,"
I Ah, no* ! your father's names are there,
Memorials o' lang fyne.
To win me frae thefe w^efou* thoughts.
They took me to the town,
Where foon in ilka wecl-kend, face,
I mifs'd the youth fu' bloom :
I At balls they pointed to a Nymph,
Whom all deelar'd divine,
I But, fure her Mother's bluihin' face
Was fairer far, lang fyne.
| In vain I fought in mufic's found,
To find that magic art,
I Which oft in Scotland's ancient. lays 9
Has thrill'd thro' a' my heart ;
|The fang had many an artfu' turn £
My ear eonfds'd 'twas fine,
I But mifs'd the, fimple melody
Ilitte'n'd to lang fyne.