Moderato. AULD LANG SYNE. Scottish Melody; Poetry by Robert Burns. Should auld acquain-tance be for-got, And ne-ver brought to min'? Should auld ac What welcome sonnds now meet mine ear, He's com-in' a-gain, he's comin' a-gain, O! welcome sounds, to me how dear, We'll see him again, we'll see him again! 0! he has been lang a-wa', Far frae his ain, far frae his ain. Now let the pipers loudly blaw, He's wel - come hame, he's welcome hame: Then gather, then gather, Ye lads o' the hea-ther, To see him again, to see him a gain; Let hill and dale repeat the strain, 'He's com-in' a-gain, he's com-in' a-gain!' O! ye wha've lang shed sorrow's tear, Let the echoing hills repeat the strain, He's comin' again, he's comin' again!' To fight for truth wha ere did rue? Tho' adverse a' tho' adverse a'; When fortune frown'd, and friends were few, O lang we thought our sun was set, maids, boys, or priest, and a wed-ding, With a crowd you could scarce thrust your head in, A sup-per, good cheer, and a bedding, Which hap-pen'd at Bally - po - reed. Iwas a fine summer's morning-about twelve in the day, All the birds fell to sing, all the asses to bray, When Patrick the bridegroom, and Oonagh the bride, In their best bibs and tuckers, set off side by side: They were soon tack'd together, and home did return, To make merry the day at the sign of the Churn, There were Bryan Macdermot, and Shaughnessy's brat, With Terence, and Driscol, and platter-fac'd Pat; There were Sheelah, and Larry the genius, Assembled at Ballyporeen. Now the bridegroom sat down to make an oration. And he charm'd all their souls with his kind botheration; [he curs'd, 'They were welcome,' he said, and he swore and They might eat till they swell'd, and might drink till they burst: The first christening I have, if I thrive, sirs. Then the bride she got up to make a low bow, She blush'd and she stammer'd-the few words she She whisper'd so low, that she bother'd them all; But her mother cried, 'What, are you dead, [child; Now they sat down to meat-Father Murphy said grace: Smoking hot'were the dishes, and eager each face, The knives and forks rattled, spoons and platters did play, And they elbow'd and jostled, and wallop'd away. Potatoes dress'd both ways, both roasted and boil'd; Calcannon pies, dumplings, cods, cow-heels, and And each lad take his sweetheart their trotters to Now to Patrick the bridegroom and Oonagh the bride, Let the harp of old Ireland be sounded in pride, And to all the brave guests, young or old, gray or green, Drunk or sober, that jigg'd it at Ballyporeen. I wish you may be half as merry Andante. HOW SLOWLY MOVE THE HOURS. How slow-ly move the hours, When pass'd a . way from thee! These fields and love-ly bowers Have then no charms for me. How slow-ly move the hours, When pass'd away from thee! These fields and love-ly bowers Have then no charms for me. Yon grove that smiles so fair, With na-ture's wildest grace; When-e'er I miss thee there, Be-comes a de-sert place. Young Pad-dy is mer-ry and hap-py, but poor; His cabin is built in the whis-tles more cheerfully sweet' Lango-lee,' Or whis-tles more cheerfully sweet 'Lan-go-lee.' Young Paddy indeed is not polish'd or mild, Then let us not laugh at his bulls or his blunders, THE CUCKOO. Poetry by Shakspeare: Music by Dr. Arne. Moderato. 8 When dai-sies pied, and vi- o-lets blue, And cuckoo flow'rs all silver white, And out-ter-cups of yel-low hue. Do paint the mea-dows with de-light: The cuckoo then on ev-e-ry tree Sings merri-ly, sings mer-ri-ly, sings mer-ri-ly, Yes, thus sings the > > < cuc-koo- cuc-koo, cuc-koo, cuckoo, cuckoo: O! tones most clear, O! tones most clear, Thy mea-sur'd ac-cents charm the ear, Thy mea-sur'd ac-cents charm the ear. When shepherds pipe on oaten straws, And larks proclaim the morning's dawn, And turtles coo, and rooks and daws, HOW HAPPILY MY LIFE I LED. Andante. wife, 'tis true, loves words a few, My wifc, 'tis true, loves word a few; What then? I let her prate; What then? I let her prate. For, some -times smooth and sometimes rough, I Och! when I was christen'd 'twas on a fair day, And my own fair-fac'd mo-ther call du - ti ful, look-ing sweet, lov-ing neat, Arrah! when I grew up, I grew always in love-Variety's pleasing, and never ean cloy; So, true to ten thousand I'd constantly prove, A sighing, dying, complying, pressing, caressing, distressing, adoring, imploring, encoring, die away, sigh away, looking sweet, loving neat, O! boderation! a tight Irish boy. At war, love, or drinking, myself am the lad, [stroy, O! bo- der - a-tion! A tight Irish boy.' For a cup of the creature soon makes my heart glad,Then I'm a laughing, quaffing, smoking, joking, swearing, tearing, rumical, comical, sightable, fightable, sing away, ding away, roll about, troll about, looking sweet, loving neat, die away, sigh away, dash away, thrash away, flash away, smash away, O! boderation! a tight Irish boy. |