Poem of the day

Auld Lang Syne
by Robert Burns (1759-1796)
The tradition of singing this song at midnight on New Year’s apparently died with Guy Lombardo

Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And never brought to min’?
Should auld acquaintance be forgot,
And days o’ lang syne?

CHORUS.

For auld lang syne, my dear,
For auld lang syne,
We’ll tak 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 wander’d mony a weary foot
Sin auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.

We twa hae paidl’t i’ the burn,
From mornin sun till dine;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d
Sin auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.

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, &c.

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, &c.

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