William McCarty, comp. The American National Song Book. 1842.
La FayetteS
And never brought to mind?
The friend that’s true, remember’d not,
And days of auld lang syne?
For auld lang syne, my dear,
We never can forget:
When dangers press’d and foes drew near,
Our friend was La Fayette.
’Gainst tyrants and their laws,
On wings of generous zeal he flew
To aid the holy cause.
For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.
He vow’d they should be free:
He led the bravest of the brave
To death or victory.
For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.
And Monmouth loud acclaim;
Let York in triumph proudly swell
The measure of his fame.
For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.
Till time shall cease to move,
The debt they owe to La Fayette,
Of gratitude and love?
For auld lang syne, my dear, &c.