O! the happy days o' youth are fast gaun by,
And age is coming on, wi' its bleak winter sky;
An' whaur shall we shelter frae its storms when they blaw,
When the gladsome days o' youth are flown awa'?
They said that wisdom came wi' manhood's riper years,
But naething did they tell o' its sorrows an' tears:
O! I'd gie a' the wit, gif ony wit be mine,
For ae sunny morning o' bonnie langsyne.
I canna dow but sigh, I canna dow but mourn,
For the blithe happy days that never can return:
When joy was in the heart, an' love was on the tongue,
An' mirth on ilka face, for ilka face was young.
O! the bonnie waving broom, whaur aften we did meet,
Wi' its yellow flowers that fell like gowd 'mang our feet:
The bird would stop its sang, but only for a wee,
As we gaed by its nest, 'neath its ain birk tree.
O! the sunny days o' youth, they couldna aye remain,
There was ower meikle joy and ower little pain;
Sae fareweel happy days, an' fareweel youthfu' glee,
The young man court your smiles, but ye're gane frae me.
