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 tak' a cup o' kindness yet,
For auld lang syne.
We twa ha'e run about the braes,
And pu'd the gowans fine;
But we've wander'd mony a weary fit,
Sin' auld lang syne.
We twa ha'e paid'lt in the burn,
Frae morning sun till dine;
But seas between us braid ha'e roar'd,
Sin' auld lang syne.
And there's a hand, my trusty frien',
And gi'e's a haud o' thine;
And we'll tak' a richt gude-willie waught,
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.
About this poem
Public domain · Robert Burns (1759–1796)
