["Is not the Scotch phrase," Burns writes to Mrs. Dunlop, "Auld lang
syne, exceedingly expressive? There is an old song and tune which has
often thrilled through my soul: I shall give you the verses on the
other sheet. Light be the turf on the breast of the heaven-inspired
poet who composed this glorious fragment." "The following song," says
the poet, when he communicated it to George Thomson, "an old song of
the olden times, and which has never been in print, nor even in
manuscript, until I took it down from an old man's singing, is enough
to recommend any air." These are strong words, but there can be no
doubt that, save for a line or two, we owe the song to no other
minstrel than "minstrel Burns."]

I.

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 tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!

II.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pu't the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary foot,
Sin' auld lang syne.

III.

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.

IV.

And here's a hand, my trusty fiere,
And gie's a hand o' thine;
And we'll take a right guid willie-waught,
For auld lang syne.

V.

And surely ye'll be your pint-stowp,
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 tak a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne!