LOUDOUN valley

Lang, Lang Syne

By Rev George Lawrie
(Tune John Peel)

Ha'e ye mind lang, lang syne
 When the summer day's were fine,
 An' the sun shone brighter far
 Than he's even dune since syne;
 Do ye mind the Hag brig turn,
Whaer we guddled in the burn,
 And were late for the schule in the mornin'?

 Do ye mind the sunny braes,
 Whaer we gathered hips and slaes,
 And fell among the bramble bushes,
 Tearin a' oor claes ;
And for fear they wad be seen
 We gaed slippin hame at e'en
 But were likkit for oor pains in the mornin'?
 
Do ye mind the miller's dam,
 When the frosty winter cam,
 Hoo we slade alang the curlers' rinks,
 And made their game a sham;
 When they chased us through the snaw ,
We took a leg- bail ane an' a;
But we did it o'er again in the mornin'?

 What famous fun was there,
 Wi oor games at houn' and hare,
When we played the truant frae the schule,
Because it was the fair;
 And we ran frae Patties mill
 To the woods at windy hill,
But were fear'd for the tawse in the mornin'.

 Where are those bright hearts noo,
That were then sae leal and true?
 Oh! some ha'e left life's troubled scene;
 Some are still struggling through;
 And some ha'e risen high
 In life's changeful destiny.
 For they rise wi' the lark in the mornin',

 Now life's sweet spring is past,
 And oor autunm's come at last;
 Oor summer day has passed away;
Life's winter's comin fast;
But though lang its night may seem ,
We shall sleep without a dream,
 Till we wauken on yon bright sabbath mornin'.