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THE ATJLD INGLESIDE— Prize Song, No. II.
Words by James Macfarlan, Music by T. S. Gljadhill.
Slow'y, with feeling.
youth on the hal-low'd hearth stane, And the day nev - er dull and the
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nicht nev-er lang. When the wan - der - ing wives, wi' their wal-lets o' fun,
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And their duds frae the drift o' the cauld win-ter dried, Cam' doit -er- ing ben,
how the cal-lants wad rin Their sto-ries to hear, by the auld in - gle - side.
By the auld ingleside, i' the muckle arm-chair,
Wi* his auld-farrant crack, sat our grandfather sage,
And the red e'enin' lowe, as it fell on his hair,
Aft wad melt into mirth a' the snaws o' his age ;
But we miss'd him at last, when the gloamin' cam' doon
'Mang the gowd o' the hairst and the corn waving wide —
0, his blessin' he gied, as he lookit aboon,
And died in our arms by the auld ingleside.
0, the auld ingleside I can never forget —
The young loupin' heart, and the bricht rollin' e'e,
And the frien's o' langsyne that sae happy ha'e met,
Wha noo are adrift owre the waves o' the sea.
I ha'e sang by the burn, I ha'e danc'd on the green,
I ha'e sat in the ha' amid beauty and pride;
But oh ! for ae blink o' that life's early scene,
The low o' langsyne bv the auld ingleside.