III We twa hae run about the braes, And pou'd the gowans fine, But we've wandered monie a weary fit IV We twa hae paidl'd in the burn 10 Frae morning sun till dine, But seas between us braid hae roar'd 15 Sin' auld lang syne. V And there's a hand, my trusty fiere And gie's a hand o' thine, And we'll tak a right guid-willie waught For auld lang syne! CHORUS For auld lang syne, my dear, For auld lang syne, We'll tak a cup o' kindness yet, OF A' THE AIRTS THE WIND CAN BLAW I OF a' the airts the wind can blaw I dearly like the west, For there the bonie lassie lives, The lassie I lo'e best. There's wild woods grow, and rivers row, And monie a hill between, But day and night my fancy's flight Is ever wi' my Jean. 20 5 II I see her in the dewy flowers I hear her charm the air. There's not a bonie flower that springs There's not a bonie bird that sings, HIGHLAND MARY I YE banks and braes and streams around Green be your woods, and fair your flowers, Your waters never drumlie! There summer first unfald her robes, And there the longest tarry! For there I took the last fareweel O' my sweet Highland Mary! II How sweetly bloomed the gay, green birk, As underneath their fragrant shade 10 15 5 10 Flew o'er me and my dearie: For dear to me as light and life Was my sweet Highland Mary. 15 III Wi' monie a vow and lock'd embrace Our parting was fu' tender; That nipt my flower sae early! Now green 's the sod, and cauld's the clay, IV O, pale, pale now, those rosy lips And clos'd for ay the sparkling glance And mouldering now in silent dust. WILLIAM WORDSWORTH 1770-1850 WORDSWORTH was born in Cumberland, in the north of England, among hills and lakes famous for their beauty. He was sent to good schools in his earlier years, and afterwards was graduated from Cambridge University. He does not seem to have been greatly influenced by his surroundings at Cambridge. He lived his life there, as he did to the end, in his own way; but he chose a way that was sane and wholesome. In his spare hours he read Chaucer and Spenser and Milton, and in his vacations went afoot over the hills which he lived among and loved to the end of his life. Wordsworth's life was peculiarly happy. It is given to few men to have so nearly their heart's desire through a period of eighty years. He was possessed of a refined nature and of cultivated though simple tastes; a modest income supplied his actual wants and gave some margin for travel and books; he loved the peace and solitude of country life, and he found it easy to gratify these tastes. His marriage at the age of thirty-two to his cousin, Mary Hutchinson, made the joy of his fireside more complete. He desired most of all to be a poet, a poet whose purpose was "to add sunshine to daylight by making the happy happier, to teach the young and the gracious of every age to see, to think and feel, and therefore to become more actively and securely virtuous," and he succeeded. Long before he died he had become not only the head and front of what is called the Lake School of Poets, and consequently gained a very high rank among his contemporaries, but had secured for himself a name among the first half-dozen poets in English literature. As a poet, Wordsworth's activity extended over many years and in many directions. His poetry is also very uneven. At his worst, he is tame and insipid; while at his best, he had "a voice whose sound was like the sea." He had simplicity, grace, and majesty, both in thought and expression. In his fervent love of nature, too, and in his communion with her in all her moods, he probably has no rival. Wordsworth's best known poems are the Lyrical Ballads, The Prelude, Ode on Intimations of Immortality, Ode to Duty, The White Doe of Rylstone, The Excursion, Laodamia, Miscel laneous Sonnets, and many shorter pieces. Among his friends were Coleridge, Scott, De Quincey, Southey, and Dr. Thomas Arnold of Rugby. ODE TO DUTY STERN Daughter of the Voice of God! When empty terrors overawe; From vain temptations dost set free; And calm'st the weary strife of frail humanity! There are who ask not if thine eye Be on them; who, in love and truth, Upon the genial sense of youth: Glad Hearts! without reproach or blot Oh! if through confidence misplaced They fail, thy saving arms, dread Power! around them cast. Serene will be our days and bright, And happy will our nature be, |