The Village Sexton/The Days o' Lang Syne

THE DAYS O' LANG SYNE.

When war had broke in on the prace o' auld men,
And frae Chelsea to arms they were summon'd again,
Twa vel'rans grown grey, wi' their muskets sair foil'd,
Wi'a sigh were relating how hard they had toil'd:
The drum it was beating, to fight they incline,
But ay they look back on the days o' lang syne.

Hech! Davie, man, weel thou remembers the time,
When twa brisk young callans, and just in our prime;
The prince led us, conquer'd, and show'd us the way,
And monie braw chiel we turu'd cauld on that day:
Still again I wad venture this auld trunk o' mine,
Cou'd our gen'rals but lead, or we fight like langsyne.

But garrison duty is a' we can do.
Tho' our arms are worn weak, yet our hearts are still true;
We fear'd neither danger by land or by sea,
For time is turn'd coward, and no you and me;
And tho' at oar fate we may sadly repine,
Youth winna return, nor the strength o' lang syne.

When after our conquests, it joys me to mind,
How thy Jean caress'd thee and my Meg was kind:
They shar'd a' our dangers tho' ever sae hard,
Nor car'd we for plunder when sic our reward;
Ev'n now they're rosolv'd baith their hames to resign,
And to share the hard fate they were used to lang syne.