Oh! years have flown since first we met, And

Thy proffer'd friendship cheer'd my heart,
I frankly gave thee mine;
When thou wert near I ceased to weep,
For auld lang syne, &c.

I felt while to thy bosom press'd
That greater bliss was mine,

Than e'er my youthful heart had known,
For auld lang syne, &c.

But fortune points thy path of life,
Far, far away from mine;

This hour may be, when next we meet,
An auld lang syne, &c.

Then fare-thee-well, if thou art blest,
Thy friend will not repine,

But sometimes give a kindly thought,

To auld lang syne, &c.

To laugh, and quaff, and drink good sherry.

Too much care will make a young man look grey;
And too much care will turn an old man into clay.
My wife will dance, and I will sing,
So merrily pass the day;

For I hold it one of the wisest things,
To drive dull care away.

Bright be thy Dreams.

Bright be thy dreams, may all thy weeping,
Turn into smiles, while thou art sleeping.
Those, by death or seas remov'd,
Friends, who in thy spring time knew thee,
All thou'st ever priz'd or lov'd,

In dreams come smiling to thee.