OLD LONG SYNE. The following song is interesting as the earliest known verses to the beautiful and renowned air of "Auld lang syne." They appeared in Watson's collection of Scots Poems, 1716. They are certainly not equal to the verses preserved by Burns, which appear among the Convivial Songs in this volume. PART FIRST. SHOULD old acquaintance be forgot, The flames of love extinguish'd, Is thy kind heart now grown so cold Where are thy protestations, Thy vows and oaths, my dear, Is faith and truth so violate To th' immortal gods divine, Is't Cupid's fears, or frosty cares, Is't worldly cares so desperate But since that nothing can prevail, Still showers of tears shall rain; And though thou hast me now forgot, And ne'er forget for to reflect If e'er I have a house, my dear, And can afford but country cheer, PART SECOND. My soul is ravish'd with delight All griefs and sorrows take their flight, The fair resemblance of your face So fills this breast of mine, No fate nor force can it displace For old long syne. Since thoughts of you do banish grief, When I'm from you removed, And if in them I find relief When with sad cares I'm moved, How doth your presence me affect With ecstasies divine, Especially when I reflect On old long syne. Since thou hast robb'd me of my heart, By those resistless powers Which Madam Nature doth impart To those fair eyes of yours, With honour it doth not consist "Tis not my freedom I do crave, By deprecating pains; Sure, liberty he would not have Who glories in his chains; But this I wish-the gods would move That noble soul of thine To pity, if thou canst not love, For old long syne. Allan Ramsay also wrote a song under this title. It appeared as follows in the "Tea-Table Miscellany." Should auld acquaintance be forgot, Though they return with scars? These are the noble hero's lot, Methinks around us on each bough A thousand Cupids play; Whilst through the groves I walk with you Each object makes me gay. Since your return the sun and moon With brighter beams do shine; Streams murmur soft notes while they run As they did lang syne. SPEAK ON, SPEAK THUS. ALLAN RAMSAY, born Oct. 15, 1686, died Jan 7, 1758. From the "Gentle Shepherd." Air-" Wae's my heart that we should sunder." SPEAK on, speak thus, and still my grief; Hold up a heart that's sinkin' under These fears that soon will want relief When Pate must from his Peggy sunder. A gentler face and silk attire, A lady rich in beauty's blossom, To steal thee from thy Peggy's bosom. No more the shepherd who excell'd The rest, whose wit made them to wonder, Oh, I can die, but never sunder! Ye banks where we were wont to wander, Again, ah, shall I never creep Around the knowe, with silent duty, And wonder at thy manly beauty? Hear, heaven, while solemnly I vow, Though thou shouldst prove a wand'ring lover, Through life to thee I shall prove true, Nor be a wife to any other. I'LL NEVER LEAVE THEE. ALLAN RAMSAY. From the "Tea-Table Miscellany." JOHNNY. THOUGH for seven years and mair honour should reave me Gang the warld as it will, dearest, believe me. NELLY. O Johnny, I'm jealous, whene'er ye discover JOHNNY. My Nelly, let never sic fancies oppress ye; NELLY. Then, Johnny, I frankly this minute allow ye JOHNNY. Bid ice-shogles hammer red gauds on the studdy, LOCHABER NO MORE. ALLAN RAMSAY. FAREWELL to Lochaber, farewell to my Jean, We'll maybe return to Lochaber no more! Though hurricanes rise, though rise every wind, |