Apropos, is not the Scotch phrase 'Auld Lang Syne' exceedingly expressive? I shall give you the verses on the other sheet. The words of 'Auld Lang Syne' are good, but the music is an old air, the rudiments of the modern tune of that name. ... Dare to be honest and fear no labor. ... Opera is where a man gets stabbed in the back, and instead of dying, he sings. ... Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure thrill the deepest notes of woe. ... Critics! Those cut-throat bandits in the paths of fame.
The frequent hearing of my mistress reading the bible-for she often read aloud when her husband was absent-soon awakened my curiosity in respect to this mystery of reading, and roused in me the desire to learn. Having no fear of my kind mistress before my eyes, (she had given me no reason to fear, ) I frankly asked her to teach me to read; and without hesitation, the dear woman began the task, and very soon, by her assistance, I was master of the alphabet, and could spell words of three or four letters... Master Hugh was amazed at the simplicity of his spouse, and, probably for the first time, he unfolded to her the true philosophy of slavery, and the peculiar rules necessary to be observed by masters and mistresses, in the management of their human chattels. Mr. Auld promptly forbade the continuance of her [reading] instruction; telling her, in the first place, that the thing itself was unlawful; that it was also unsafe, and could only lead to mischief... Mrs. Auld evidently felt the force of his remarks; and, like an obedient wife, began to shape her course in the direction indicated by her husband. The effect of his words, on me, was neither slight nor transitory. His iron sentences-cold and harsh-sunk deep into my heart, and stirred up not only my feelings into a sort of rebellion, but awakened within me a slumbering train of vital thought. It was a new and special revelation, dispelling a painful mystery, against which my youthful understanding had struggled, and struggled in vain, to wit: the white man's power to perpetuate the enslavement of the black man. "Very well, " thought I; "knowledge unfits a child to be a slave." I instinctively assented to the proposition; and from that moment I understood the direct pathway from slavery to freedom. This was just what I needed; and got it at a time, and from a source, whence I least expected it... Wise as Mr. Auld was, he evidently underrated my comprehension, and had little idea of the use to which I was capable of putting the impressive lesson he was giving to his wife... That which he most loved I most hated; and the very determination which he expressed to keep me in ignorance, only rendered me the more resolute in seeking intelligence.
Audrey Auld is a great singer songwriter. She holds a unique place in contemporary Americana/Roots music. I believe that this uniqueness is largely due to the fact that she is Australian. This affords her a totally different attitude as an artist than traditional American contributors to this genre. Audrey is one of the most honest original artists I know.
You're a grand old flag, You're a high-flying flag, And forever in peace may you wave. You're the emblem of the land I love, The home of the free and the brave. Ev'ry heart beats true 'Neath the Red, White and Blue, Where there's never a boast or brag. But should auld acquaintance be forgot, Keep your eye on the grand old flag.
George M. Cohan
One day, all those who love in the society of Auld Lang Syne shall meet again. In the New City of the Burning Heart, there, the veil will drop. The arc of the seas shall finally know the skies. Day and night shall end. The clock tower will crumble. Time shall fly to the place of no more. For we were born for meaning. We were born to love. There, we shall all be together with all the lovelies ever known who chose mercy and kindness amidst the forget-me-nots and the countless stars.
David Paul Kirkpatrick
When the fiddle had stopped singing Laura called out softly, "What are days of auld lang syne, Pa?" "They are the days of a long time ago, Laura," Pa said. "Go to sleep, now." But Laura lay awake a little while, listening to Pa's fiddle softly playing and to the lonely sound of the wind in the Big Woods,... She was glad that the cozy house, and Pa and Ma and the firelight and the music, were now. They could not be forgotten, she thought, because now is now. It can never be a long time ago.
Laura Ingalls Wilder
IF YOU HAD THE LUCK OF THE IRISH YOU'D BE SORRY AND WISH YOU WERE DEAD YOU SHOULD HAVE THE LUCK OF THE IRISH AND YOU'D WISH YOU WAS ENGLISH INSTEAD! A THOUSAND YEARS OF TORTURE AND HUNGER DROVE THE PEOPLE AWAY FROM THEIR LAND A LAND FULL OF BEAUTY AND WONDER WAS RAPED BY THE BRITISH BRIGANDS! GODDAMN! GODDAMN! IF YOU COULD KEEP VOICES LIKE FLOWERS THERE'D BE SHAMROCK ALL OVER THE WORLD IF YOU COULD DRINK DREAMS LIKE IRISH STREAMS THEN THE WORLD WOULD BE HIGH AS THE MOUNTAIN OF MORN IN THE 'POOL THEY TOLD US THE STORY HOW THE ENGLISH DIVIDED THE LAND OF THE PAIN, THE DEATH AND THE GLORY AND THE POETS OF AULD EIRELAND IF WE COULD MAKE CHAINS WITH THE MORNING DEW THE WORLD WOULD BE LIKE GALWAY BAY LET'S WALK OVER RAINBOWS LIKE LEPRECHAUNS THE WORLD WOULD BE ONE BIG BLARNEY STONE WHY THE HELL ARE THE ENGLISH THERE ANYWAY? AS THEY KILL WITH GOD ON THEIR SIDE BLAME IT ALL ON THE KIDS THE IRA AS THE BASTARDS COMMIT GENOCIDE! AYE! AYE! GENOCIDE! IF YOU HAD THE LUCK OF THE IRISH YOU'D BE SORRY AND WISH YOU WAS DEAD YOU SHOULD HAVE THE LUCK OF THE IRISH AND YOU'D WISH YOU WAS ENGLISH INSTEAD! YES YOU'D WISH YOU WAS ENGLISH INSTEAD!
John Lennon/Plastic Ono Band