Chapter L: M. C

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We hear men often enough speak of seeing God in the stars and
the flowers, but they will never be truly religious, till they
learn to behold Him in _each other_ also, where He is most
easily, yet most rarely discovered.

J. R. LOWELL

AULD LANG SYNE.

BY ROBERT BURNS.

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to min’?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o’ lang syne?

CHORUS.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne;
We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae ran about the braes,
And pu’d the gowans[L] fine;
But we’ve wandered mony a weary foot,
Sin’ auld lang syne.

We twa hae paidl’t i’ the burn,[M]
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roared
Sin’ auld lang syne.

CHORUS.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne;
We’ll tak’ a cup o’ kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.

[L] Wild daisies.

[M] Brook.

OLD FOLKS AT HOME.

They love the places where they wandered
When they were young;
They love the books they’ve often pondered,
They love the tunes they’ve sung.

The easy-chair, so soft and dozy,
Is their delight;
The ample slippers, warm and cozy,
And the dear old bed at night.

CHORUS.

Near their hearth-stones, warm and cheery,
Where, by night or day,
They’re free to rest when they are weary,
There the old folks love to stay.