Poetry of Burns
Robert Burns
born 1759, died 1796 |
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Auld Lang Syne
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to min'?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o' lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We 'll talk a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu'd the gowans fine;
But we 've wandered mony a weary foot,
Sin auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We 'll talk a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
We twa hae paidl't i' the burn,
Frae mornin' sun till dine:
But seas between us braid hae roar'd,
Sin auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We 'll talk a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
And here 's a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie 's a hand o' thine;
And we 'll tak a right guid willie-waught,
For auld lang syne!
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We 'll talk a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
And surely ye 'll be your pint-stoup,
And surely I 'll be mine;
And we 'll tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We 'll talk a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!
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