Oh, the old hoose, the old hoose, what old rooms were we?Oh, kind hearts were dwelling there, and bareness fugly.The wild rose and the tears of mine still hang upon the wall.Oh, money, cherished memories, do these sweet flaws recall?For there...They are always scattered new, some day in his game.But yet, alas, dear heart of mine game, not here we'll meet again.The Kirk yet, the Kirk yet, we've lost.O'er so every hue, is sheltered by the holy shade, and the dark, somber hue.
