Thy glories will have faded from my sight.
In yon new land, God teach me to do right
And ne'er forget thee.
Thy glorious history shared within my breast
Gives to the wanderers life an added zest.
From rising morn, till night's welcome nest
I`ll ne'er forget thee.
May thorns my path beset and rocks bestrew
My lonely road;
And may good friends be few
Should I, when fortune smiles,
Forsake those who will ne'er forget me.
My bonnie sons, in God's own image sent
To sanctify and bless a life ill spent,
Will sing, in childish fervour:
"We're content not to forget thee."
- W.A. Steward
