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

For auld lang syne, my dear,

For auld lang syne,

We'll tak' a cup of kindness yet
For auld lang syne.

We twa hae run about the braes,
And pou't the gowans fine;

But we've wander'd mony a weary foot
Sin auld lang syne.
For auld, &c.

We twa hae paidlet i' the burn

Frae morning 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 frien',
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-stoup,

And surely I'll be mine;

And we'll tak' a cup o' kindness yet

For auld lang syne.

For auld, &c.

66

This world-renowned song is always included among the songs of Robert Burns. He did not himself claim the authorship of it. In a letter to Thomson, he says: "One song more, and I have done. 'Auld lang syne!' The air is but mediocre; but the following song, the 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."—"Light be the turf," he says in another letter, on the heaven-inspired poet who composed this glorious fragment!" It appears that the air to which the song is now universally sung was not the one which Burns thought so little of, but another, of which the author is quite unknown, but which appears to have belonged to the Roman Catholic Church, and to England quite as much as to Scotland. Several other cathedral chants, of which the authorship is claimed for English music, may be mentioned; more especially the air known as "John, come kiss me now," and "We're all noddin'," both of which are unmistakeably English. It is curious to reflect that the most popular song ever written in these islands, that of "Auld lang syne," is anonymous; and that we know no more of the author of the music than we do of the author of the words. It is equally curious to reflect that so much of Burns's great fame rests upon this song, in which his share amounts only to a few emendations.

OH, GUDE ALE COMES.

From "Johnson's Musical Museum," altered by Burns from an older song. Air-" The bottom of the punch-bowl."

Он, gude ale comes, and gude ale goes;

Gude ale gars me sell my hose,

Sell my hose, and pawn my

shoon;

Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.

I had sax owsen in a pleuch,

And they drew teuch and weel eneuch :
I drank them a' just ane by ane;

Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.

Gude ale hauds me bare and busy,
Gars me moop wi' the servant hizzie,
Stand i' the stool when I hae done;
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.

Oh, gude ale comes, and gude ale goes;
Gude ale gars me sell my hose,

Sell my hose, and pawn my shoon;
Gude ale keeps my heart aboon.

GUDEWIFE, COUNT THE LAWIN.

BURNS.

GANE is the day, and mirk's the night;
But we'll ne'er stray for faut o' light;
For ale and brandy's stars and moon,
And bluid-red wine's the rising sun.
Then, gudewife, count the lawin,
The lawin, the lawin;

Then, gudewife, count the lawin,
And bring's a coggie mair.

There's wealth and ease for gentlemen,
And semple folk maun fecht and fen ;
But here we're a' in ae accord,

For ilka man that's drunk's a lord.

Then, gudewife, count the lawin,
The lawin, the lawin;

Then, gudewife, count the lawin,
And bring's a coggie mair.

My coggie is a haly pool

That heals the wounds o' care and doul;

And pleasure is a wanton trout

An

ye drink but deep ye'll find him out. Then, gudewife, count the lawin,

The lawin, the lawin;

Then, gudewife, count the lawin,

And bring's a coggie mair.

THE DEIL'S AWA' WI' THE EXCISEMAN.*

BURNS.

THE deil cam' fiddling through the town,
And danced awa' wi' the exciseman;
And ilka wife cried: Auld Mahoun,

We wish you luck o' your prize, man.
We'll mak' our maut, and brew our drink;
We'll dance, and sing, and rejoice, man ;
And mony thanks to the muckle black deil
That danced awa' wi' the exciseman.

* Mr. Lockhart, in his "Life of Burns," gives the following account of the composition of this poem:-" At that period (1792) a great deal of contraband traffic, chiefly from the Isle of Man, was going on along the coasts of Galloway and Ayrshire; and the whole of the revenue-officers from Gretna to Dumfries were placed under the orders of a superintendent residing in Annan, who exerted himself zealously in intercepting the descent of the smuggling-vessels. On the 27th of February, a suspicious-looking brig was discovered in the Solway Frith, and Burns was one of the party whom the superintendent conducted to watch her motions. She got into shallow water the day afterwards, and the officers were enabled to discover that her crew were numerous, armed, and not likely to yield without a struggle. Lewars, a brother exciseman, an intimate friend of our poet, was accordingly sent to Dumfries for a guard of dragoons; the superintendent, Mr. Crawford, proceeded himself on a similar errand to Ecclefechan; and Burns was left, with some men under his orders, to watch the brig, and prevent landing or escape. From the private journal of one of the excisemen (now in my hands), it appears that Burns manifested considerable impatience while thus occupied, being left for many hours in a wet salt-marsh with a force which he knew to be inadequate for the purpose it was meant to fulfil. One of his friends hearing him abuse Lewars in particular for being slow about his journey, the man answered, that he also wished the devil had him for his pains, and that Burns, in the meantime, would do well to indite a song upon the sluggard. Burns said nothing; but after taking a few strides by himself along the reeds and shingle, rejoined his party, and chanted them the well-known ditty, 'The deil's awa' wi' the exciseman.' Lewars arrived shortly after with the dragoons; and Burns, putting himself at their head, waded, sword in hand, to the brig, and was the first to board her. The crew lost heart and submitted, though their numbers were greater than those of the assailing force. The vessel was condemned, and with all her arms and stores sold by auction next day at Dumfries; upon which occasion Burns, whose behaviour had been highly commended, thought fit to purchase four carronades by way of trophy. But his glee," continues Mr. Lockhart, "went a step further; he sent the guns, with a letter, to the French Convention, requesting that body to accept them as a mark of his admiration and respect. The present and its accompaniment were intercepted at the Custom-house at Dover; and here - there appears to be little room to doubt-was the principal circumstance that drew on Burns the notice of his jealous superiors. We were not, it is true, at war with France; but every one knew and felt that we were to be so ere long; and nobody can pretend that Burns was not guilty on this occasion of a most absurd and presumptuous breach of decorum."

There's threesome reels and foursome reels,
There's hornpipes and strathspeys, man;
But the ae best dance e'er cam' to our lan'
Was the deil's awa' wi' the exciseman.
We'll mak' our maut, &c.

WILLIE BREW'D A PECK O' MAUT.

BURNS.

OH, Willie brew'd a peck o' maut,
And Rob and Allan cam' to see;
Three blither hearts that leelang night
Ye wadna find in Christendie.
We are na fou, we're na that fou,
But just a drappie in our ee;
The cock may craw, the day may daw',
And aye we'll taste the barley bree.

Here are we met three merry boys,
Three merry boys I trow are we ;
And mony a night we've merry been,
And mony mair we hope to be.

We are na fou, &c.

It is the moon, I ken her horn,
That's blinkin in the lift sae hie;
She shines sae bright to wyle us hame,
But, by my troth, she'll wait a wee.

We are na fou, &c.

Wha first shall rise to gang awa',

A cuckold, coward loon is he;
Wha first beside his chair shall fa',

He shall be king amang us three.
We are na fou, &c.

"This air," says Burns, "is Masterton's; the song is mine. The occasion of it was this:-Mr. William Nicol, of the High School, Edinburgh, during the autumn vacation being at Moffat, honest Allan, who was at that time on a visit to Dalswinton, and I, went to pay Nicol a visit. We had such a joyous meeting, that Masterton and I agreed, each in our own way, that we should celebrate the business." Dr. Currie, who mentions that Nicol's farm was that of Laggan, in Nithsdale, adds, that "these three honest fellows, all men of uncommon talents, were in 1798 all under the turf."