Part 19

REFRAIN.

Those happy days are langsyne gane, An' I am wearin' on in life, My pleesures a' lie in the past, There's naething noo but care an' strife.

REFRAIN.

When Nature fails an' I maun bend, An' fade like ony witherin' tree, Beside ye gin I hae my wish, I fain wad streik me doon an' dee.

REFRAIN.

MISCELLANEOUS PIECES.

SCUNNER'T.

TAE THE WORKERS.

At the result of the South Lanark Elections, 1913 and 1918.

Some look on this life wi' a smile, While ithers look on't wi' a froon, Some are up in this warl', While some in this warl' are doon. We're tauld that contentment is gain, A virtue we ocht tae acquire, But the worker is nae worth the name Wha wadna tae better aspire.

Some thoosans in mansions are rich, Hae mair than they ever can need, While millions are leevin' in slums, An' lackin' their daily breid. It's a terrible state o' affairs; Will ye no mak' an effort tae mend it? Will ye stan' wi' the pooer in yer han' An' no strike a blow that wad end it?

Dinna tell me ye hae'na the pooer, An' likewise ye hae'na the pence; It's as easy tae prove ye've the pooer, As it is that ye hae'na the sense. A change is required in oor laws, An wha dae ye ettle tae mak' it? Not the privileged class, wha hae ruled ye sae lang, Though that is the class ye've aye backit.

Yer leaders are guid as they're true, Still ye cater tae prejudice hoary, Tho' yer conscience maun cry ye are wrang, Ye vote for a Whig or a Tory. It's aneuch tae mak' angels weep, An' reformers turn in the grave When the workers gang beckin' an' booin', An' playin' the fool an' the knave.

Noo yer guid auld Pioneer's gane; Ne'er will his memory sink; If ye've ony respect for his name Try an' be able tae think. Guid-bye the noo, I houp ye will men', But railly it's no tae be wunner't That freens wha hae yer interests at hert Canna' but sometimes be scunner't.

Keir Hardie.

TO AN ABSENT FRIEND.

Dear cronie, we are met the nicht Tae drink yer health for auld langsyne; Wi' social crack and canty sang We fain wad a' oor sorrows tyne.

Gin ye had been amang us noo Oor melodies wad soun' mair sweet, Yer kin'ly voice wad add the note Tae mak' the harmony complete.

Burns tells us "Man was made tae murn," Wi' that we dinna aye agree, For here are we five chaps the nicht As blithe an' merry as can be.

Some find this warl' drear an' dark Frae cradle onward tae the tomb; A touch o' kindness noo an' then Breaks through the seeming cheerless gloom.

Sae as we travel doon the vale Let's help each ither a' we can, An' never slicht tho' puir he be "The social, freenly honest man."

Here's health again! Lang may ye leeve! Hale be yer min', hale be yer hert! An' may prosperity be yours, An' aye the honest manly pairt.

THE MINER.

In the depths of the mine the miner toils, Far from the light of the day; To earn a crust for those he loves He works while work he may; For the years roll on and vitality wanes, Ere the need of his labour be gone, So he wills to work while his strength holds out, For he thinks not of self alone.

The thought of danger or death in the mine Never daunts his mind or his heart, And strong is the swing of his brawny arms As he nobly plays his part. He holds at his task with a firm resolve, For he's one of a sterling breed, To provide the nation with what she requires In the darkest hour of her need.

When invasion threatens Britannia's shores He is ready to do or to die, And Britannia knows that in times of stress She can on the miner rely To uphold the honour of Right and Truth, To defend his country and hearth; Thank God for men with a heart like his, They are surely the salt of the earth.

Our country is rich by the sweat of his brow, And it's needless saying we can't Provide for the miner and see that his days Are free from the shadow of want; And when old age comes with palsied hand He may rest from his labour until The angels bear him away to the land Where he'll work to his Father's will.

LOVE.