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SONGSTER. 63
JHORUS—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 lang syne, &c.
We twa Jiae paidlet i' the bum,
Fra mornin' sun till dine:
But seas between us braid hae roar'd.
Sin' auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, &c.
And here's a hand, my trusty fiere.
And gie's a hand o' thine:
And we'll tak' a right gude wille-waught.
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, &c
And surely ye'll be your pint stoup.
And surelv I'll be mine
And we'U tak' a cup o' kindness yet.
For auld lang syne.
For auld lang syne, &c.
Tbe Giirl I left bebind nae.
Fm lonesome since I cross'd the hills.
And o'er the moor doth tire me;
With heavy thoughts my mind doth fill.
Since first I parted, Betsy,
In search of some one fine and gay.
Several doth remind me
Of the bless'd hours I pass'd away.
With the girl I left behind me.