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Poetry
The Golden Days
by James W. Gray


Bob Downie sent this in to me...

I recently came across a poem, that I found in my dear old Dad's papers. He died at 83+, over here in April/1999. It's by James W. Gray, & is called "The Golden Days". It made me have a good bawl, when he recited it me, shortly before he died. Perhaps you could use it ?

"The Golden Days"



D'ye ever think o' Scotland & the days when we were young,
O' pantomime & music halls, the songs that we all sung,
O' fish & chips, & tuppenny pies, oat cakes, & tattie scones,
The fitba' match on Saturdays, the cheerin' & the groans.

D'ye mind the Summer picnics on the bonnie Cathkin Braes,
We grumbled 'boot the weather, but that was just oor ways,
Or sailin' doon the bonnie Clyde tae Rothesay, or Dunoon,
An' comin' back to Glesca' wi' oor faces burnt & broon.

Or walkin' doon Argyle Street, each lassie wi' her fella',
The folks that used to gather neath the Hielanman's umbrella,
The times we went first fittin' wi' oor freens on Hogmanay,
An' makin' resolutions that we broke on New Year's Day.

D'ye mind when we went dancin' the Lancers & Quadrilles,
Oor feet were light as feathers as we danced the eightsome reels,
We didnae' seem to mind at a' it was nae fancy ball,
For we were quite convinced we were the best set in the hall.

O' happy days, O' carefree days, O' days of long ago,
Days that seem more golden now, the candles burnin' low,
So drink a cup to Scotland now, & days o' lang lang syne,
When you & I were young m' dear, an' the world was yours & mine.




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