[Tea-Table Miscellany Contents]
SHould auld acquantance be forgot,
Tho’ they return with scars?
These are the noble hero’s lot,
Obtain’d in glorious wars:
Welcome, my VARO, to my breast,
Thy arms about me twine,
And make me once again as blest,
As I was lang syne.
–
Methinks around us on each bough,
A thousand Cupids play,
Whilst thro’ the groves I walk with you,
Each object makes me gay:
Since your return the sun and moon
With brighter beams do shine,
Streams murmure soft notes while they run,
As they did lang syne.
–
Despise the court and din of state;
Let that to their share fall,
Who can esteem such slav’ry great,
While bounded like a ball:
But sunk in love, upon my arms
Let your brave head recline,
We’ll please ourselves with mutual charms,
As we did lang syne.
–
O’er moor and dale, with your gay friend,
You may pursue the chace,
And, after a blyth bottle, end
All cares in my embrace:
And in a vacant rainy day
You shall be wholly mine;
We’ll make the hours run smooth away,
And laugh at lang syne.
–
The hero, pleas’d with the sweet air,
And signs of generous love,
Which had been utter’d by the fair,
Bow’d to the pow’rs above:
Next day, with consent and glad haste,
Th’ approach’d the sacred shrine;
Where the good priest the couple blest,
And put them out of pine.