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biographical dictionary of eminent men of fife

m. f. conolly · 1866 · Scanned text · Free in the US

494,915 words · about 34 h 39 min to read

Period artwork: Interior of the Bodleian Library, 1845
About this edition

Scanned text — may contain errors · view original scans

Free in the US: this text is in the public domain in the United States; it may still be in copyright elsewhere.

Licence: PD · PD-US by publication date

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About this book

Author
m. f. conolly
Language
English
Published
1866
Length
494,915 words · about 34 h 39 min
Sections
3 reader sections
Text
Scanned text, read from page scans by OCR; may contain errors
Rights
Public domain in the United States · PD-US by publication date

 

Contents (3)
  1. Front matter about 1 h 46 min
  2. Part I about 1 min
  3. Part II about 32 h 53 min

Continue:

Front matter

Shelf, em...

1—Every one borrowing books must sign his or her name in the library. ie

2—Borrowers must return books to the library within one week.

Part I

Should old acquaintance be forgot, And never thought upon,

The flames of love extinguished, And freely past and gone?

Is thy kind heart now grown so cold In that loving breast of thine,

That thou canst never ence reflect On old long syne ?

Where are thy protestations, Thy vows and oaths, my dear, Thou made to me, and I to thee, In register yet clear ?

Is faith and truth so violate To th’ immortal gods divine, That thou canst never once reflect On old long syne ?

Is’t Cupid’s fears, or frosty cares, That make thy sp’rits decay? Or is’t some object of more worth That’s sto’en thy heart away ? Or some desert makes thee neglect Him, so much once was thine, That thou canst never once reflect

On old long syne ?

Is worldly care so desperate, That makes thee to despair ?

Ist that makes thee exasperate, And makes thee to forbear ?

If thou of that were free as I, Thou surely should be mine ;

If this were true, we should renew Kind old long syne.

But since that nothing can prevail, And all hope is in vain,

From these rejected eyes of mine Still showers of tears shail rain,

PXNEAY

And tho’ thou hast me now forgot, Yet V'll continue thine,

And ne’er forget for to reflect On old long syne.

If e’er I have a house, my dear, That truly is called mine ;

And can afford but country cheer, Or ought that’s good therein ; Tho’ thou were rebel to the king, And beat with wind and rain, Assure thyself of welcome, love,

For old long syne.

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