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We twa hae run about the braes,
When summer days were prime ;
But seas between us braid hae roar’d,
Sin’ auld langsyne.
For auld lannsyue, &c.
Aad there’s a hand my trusty frien’,
And gie’s a baud o’ thine.
And we’ll loom tl e atoup to friendship’s growth,
And auld langsyne.
For auld langsyne, &c.
And surely ye’ll be your pint-stoup,
As sure as ^’11 be mine.
An’ we’ll tak a right gude willy-wsught,
For auld la§tgeyne
For atffd langsyne, &c
FINIS.

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