Appendix 1: 
Eight Jacobite Songs Related to Auld Lang Syne

© M. J. Grant, CC BY-NC 4.0

1. “The true Scots Mens Lament for the Loss of the Rights of their Ancient Kingdom”, published by John Read of Pearson’s Close Edinburgh, 1718.1

Shall Monarchy be quite forgot,

and of it no more heard?

Antiquity be razed out,

and Slav’ry put in Stead?

Is Scots Mens Blood now grown so cold

the Valour of their Mind,

That they can never once reflect

on old long sine, &c?

What shall become now of our Crown

we have so long possest?

Is it no more fashonable,

that we Should have it dress’d?

Shall we it for Tobacco sell,

and never once repine?

Ah! then it’s late for to reflect

on old long sine, &c.

How oft have our Fore-fathers spent

their Blood in its Defence;

Shall we than have it stol’n away

by English Influence?

We’ll curie the Acters of the Deed,

when under Yoke we pine:

Why will ye not again reflect

on old long sine?

Old Albion, what will become of thee

when England sits thy Judge?

May thou not only then expect,

Oppression but Refuge?

It’s their Design to ruine thee,

as clearly may be seen:

Why wilt thou not again reflect

on old long sine &c.

How shall our crazy Shoulders bear,

the Burden of their Tax;

Tho’ they be rich, and we but poor

they will not us relax;

Unless some skilful one ov’rturn

the Ground of their Design;

But then it’s late for to reflect

on old long sine, &c.

The Name of Britain shortly will

thy Body hence possess.

England thy Head will flourish great

thy Body will decrease,

The Union will thy Ruine be,

thou’ll know in future Time;

Yet still you seem for to forget

good old long sine &c.

Was not our Nation sometime brave,

invincible and stout;

Conquering Cesar that great King,

could not put it to Rout;

Nor not to much as Tribute get,

for all his great Design:

These Men I think thought to maintain

good old long sine, &c.

Did not Romish Ambassadors,

before our King kneel down?

I mean Carbredus Claudius great,

most valiant of Renown;

And the Proposals of a Peace,

unto him did resign;

These Actions may make us reflect

on old long sine, &c.

The Royal Bruce, if now alive,

he surely would regrate,

And blame our Grandees irefully

of Scotland’s wretched State;

And tell them he priz’d Monarchy,

while he was in his Prime,

And bid them look right speedily

to old long sine, &c.

May not Experience teach thee well

in Edward Lang-shank’s Reign,

How they pretended Good to thee,

yet since mean’d no such Thing;

But meerly stole from us the Chair,

we did so much esteem:

It’s strange to me ye should forget

good old long sine, &c.

Yet it was not by their own Strength,

that they gain’d such a Prise;

But by our base Malecontents

who did them well advise;

I mean, the Cuming, Kilpatrick,

Vallange of Treach’rous Mind,

Such Men I fear have now the Cause,

that we must now so pine.

Do not you mind the Barns of Air,

where eighteen Score were kill’d,

Under the Colour of a Truce,

our Worthies Blood was spill’d?

And what by Force they could not win

by Fraud they did obtain:

Me wonders you should so forget,

good old long sine, &c.

Remember William Wallace Wight,

and his Accomplicies,

Scotland they undertook to free,

when it was in Distress.

Likewise Sir James the Black Douglas

under the Bruce’s Reign;

These Men spar’d not their Blood to spill

for old long sine, &c.

Why did you thy Union break

thou had of late with France;

Where Honors were conferr’d on thee?

but now, not so is thy Chance:

Thou must subject thy Neck unto

a false proud Nation;

And more and more strive to forget

good old long sine, &c.

Was it their seeming Riches that

induced thee to sell

Thy Honors, which as never yet

no Monarch e’re could quel?

Nor our Integrities once break,

in all the bygone Time?

Yet now ye seem for to forget

good old long sine, &c.

The elder Brother let him read,

the Neighbour Margin Line;

The second than let him look back

to ruin’d Darien:

I’m hopeful then you will remorse,

on former Ill that’s done;

And strive in Time for for to maintain

good old long sine, &c

Now mark and see what is the Cause

of this so great a Fall:

Comtempt of Faith, Falshood, Deceit,

and Villany withal;

But rouse your selves like Scotish Lads,

and quit you selves as Men:

And more and more strive to mantain

good old long sine, &c.

2. “A SONG To the tune of AULD LANG SYNE”2


How wretched is thy fate!

I, thy St. ANDREW, do lament

Thy poor abandon’d State.


How griev’d am I to think,

That my sad story written is

With Blood instead of Ink.

IN days of Yore you was renown’d

Conspicuous was your FAME,

All Nations did your Valour praise,

And Loyalty proclaim:

You did your ancient Rights maintain,

And Liberties defend,

And scorn’d to have it thought that you

On England did depend.

UNTO your Kings you did adhere,

Stood by your Royal Race;

With them you Honour great did gain,

And Paths of Glory trace:

With Royal STEWART at your Head,

All Enemies oppose;

And, like our brave courageous Clans

In Pieces cut your Foes.

YOUR Kings did Justice then dispense,

And led you on to Fight;

And your heroick Valour was,

Like their Example, bright.

An happy People then you were,

In Plenty did [abound],

And your untainted Loyalty

With Blessings great was crown’d.

BUT, oh! alas! the Case is chang’d,

You’re wretched and forlorn;

The Hardhips now impos’d on you,

By Slaves are only born:

Your ancient Rights, which you so long

Did with your Blood maintain,

Are meanly sold and given up,

And you dare scarce complain.

FOR Justice now hath fled away,

With Taxes you’re opprest,

And every little pratling Wretch

May freely you molest:

The choicest of your noble Blood

Are banish’d far away,

And such as do remain at home

Must truckle and obey.

YOUR martial Spirit’s quite decayed,

You’re poor contented Slaves;

You’re kick’d and cuff’d, oppress’d, harrass’d,

By Scoundrels, Fools and Knaves.

You did against your King rebel,

Abjur’d the Royal Race;

For which just Heaven did punish you

With Woes, Contempt, Disgrace.

THIS Prince alone the Crown should wear,

And Royal Sceptre sway;

To him alone you should submit,

And your allegiance pay.

A Prince indu’d with Virtues rare,

So Warlike, Just and Great,

That, were it not to punish you,

He’d have a better Fate.


Look back from whence you fell,

And from your Suff’rings learn your Guild,

And never more rebel:

Regain your ancient Liberties,

Redeem your Rights and Laws,

Restore your injur’d lawful King,

Or perish in the Cause.

YOUR Reputation thus you may,

Thus only can retrieve;

And, till you Justice do to him,

You need not think to thrive.

O may th’Almighty King of Kings

His sov’reign Pow’r extend,

And his Anointed’s precious Life

From Perils all defend.

O may just Heav’n assert his Right,

Him to his own restore,

And may the Scottish Nation shine

Illustrious as before.


How joyful would I be!

To see the King upon the Throne,

And you from Chains set free.


3. “A ballad for those whose honour is sound, Who cannot be named, and must not be found. Written by a Sculpter in the Year 1746”3

Should old gay mirth and cheerfulness

Be dash’d for evermore,

Since late success in wickedness

Made Whigs insult and roar?

O no: their execrable pranks

Oblige us to divine,

We’ll soon have grounds of joy and thanks,

As we had lang syne.

Though our dear native prince be toss’d

From this oppressive land,

And foreign tyrants rule the roast [sic],

With high and barbarous hand:

Yet he who did proud Pharaoh crush,

To save old Jacob’s line,

Our Charles will visit in the bush,

Lik Moses lang syne.

Though God spares long the raging set

Which on rebellion doat,

Yet his perfections ne’er will let

His justice be forgot.

If we, with patient faith, our cause

To’s providence resign,

He’ll sure restore our king and laws,

As he did lang syne.

Our valiant prince will shortly land,

With twenty thousand stout,

And these, join’d by each loyal clan,

Shall kick the German out.

Then upright men, whom rogues attaint,

Shall bruik their own again,

And we’ll have a free parliament,

As we had lang syne.

Rejoice then ye, with all your might,

Who will for justice stand,

And would give Caesar his true right,

As Jesus did command;

While terror must all those annoy

Who horridly combine

The vineyard’s true heir to destroy,

Like Judas lang syne.

A health to those fam’d Gladsmuir gain’d,

And circled Derby’s cross:

Who won Falkirk, and boldly strain’d

To win Culloden moss.

Health to all those who’ll do’t again,

And no just cause decline.

May Charles soon vanquish, and James reign,

As they did lang syne.

4. Jacobite “Auld Lang Syne” attributed to Lochiel’s Regiment (Le Régiment d’Albanie), 17474

Though now we take King Lewie’s fee

And drink King Lewie’s wine,

We”ll bring the King frae ower the sea,

As in auld lang syne.

For, he that did proud Pharaoh crush,

And save auld Jacob’s line,

Will speak to Charlie in the Bush,

Like Moses, lang syne.

For oft we’ve garred the red coats run,

Frae Garry to the Thine,

Fra Bauge brig to Falkirk moor,

No that lang syne.

The Duke may with the Devil drink,

And we’ the deil may dine,

But Charlie’s dine in Holyrood,

As in auld lang syne.

For he that did proud Pharaoh crush,

To save auld Jacob’s line,

Shall speak to Charlie in the Bush,

Like Moses, lang syne.

5. “Ballad. Tune Auld Lang Syne”5

Should auld honour be forgot

And mirth thought on no more

Since late success in Wickedness

Makes Whigs insult and roar

Nor will we though the Jails are crammed

With loyal men repine [?]

But soon we’ll hope to be as blythe

As we were lang syne.

Though our dear native Prince is chaced

From this oppressed land

And foreigners do rule the roost

With a Barbarian’s hand

Though might oer Right doth tyrannize

And perjured rogues Combine

Never to let us be as free

As we were lang syne.

Observe though by lord a while thus graced [?]

Those that on mischief dote

Yet his perfections near well let

A just cause be forgot

If we with patience do submit

Erelong he will incline

To make our just cause trumpet yet

Like auld lang syne.

Brave royal Charles will soon return

With twenty thousand stout

And those with his highlanders

Will kick the German out

Then Truth and Justice now knock’d down

Shall rear their head and then

We shall have a Scots Parliament

As we had lang syne.

When once the grant Proprietor

Enjoys his right and place

His subjects that have valid rights

And can just titles trace

Each man shall sit in peace below

His fig-tree and his vine

And Tories shall be favourites

For auld lang syne.

Clean up your hearts ye that do sculk [?]

For king and country’s cause

The righteous Lord regards you with

Compassion and applause

Your suff’rings [pall r??d] with bliss

Both human & divine

And punish some for crimes they’ve done

Even not long syne.

Rejoice I say all ye that flee

Incog. through hill and dale

And drink a bumper to the King

And to the Prince each meal

Though water’s oft your liquor now

We’ll shortly drink good wine

Well-pleased we’ll think then on the straits [?]

That we had lang syne.

A health to those that Gladsmuir gain’d

And [d??d??dared??] at Darby Cross

A Health to those that won Falkirk

And faced Culloden moss

A Health to all that steadfast stand

And neer from truth decline

May Heaven smile on James’s son

As on Charles lang syne.

6.  “Song. To the same Tune” [i.e., Auld Lang Syne]6

Should Scotland’s Glory be forgot

Of it nae mair be heard

Our independence rooted out

And slavery put instead

Are Scotsmen’s spirits now so broke

Their bold and gorgeous mind

That they should not at all reflect

On auld lang syne.

In days of old we were renownd [sic]

Conspicous was our fame

All nations did our valour prize

And loyalty proclaim

We did our native rights maintain

And liberties defend

Nor would we have it said that we

On England should depend.

Our ancient nation then was brave

Invincible and stout

Her sons even Rome’s great Emperor

Could never put to rout.

Nor not so much as tribute get

Though Caesar was his name

Should not the thoughts of acts like these

Rekindle such a flame.

Nor was it only then we made

The World’s proud depart [??] yield

Corbredus Galdus spite of Rome

Did always keep the field

He with his men did so behave

Romans themselves did deign

Humbly to Scots to offer peace

But this was lang syne.

The great Sir William Wallace with

His comrades stout and bold

Scotland freed when twas enslaved

By English Edwards Gold

Sir James the Black Douglas likewise

Under the Bruce’s reign

When danger calld [sic] always stood firm

For auld lang syne.

Sir John the Graham’s unspotted fame

Shall never be forgot

He was an honour to his name

A true and valiant Scot.

The great Montrose The brave Dundee

Were heroes in their time

And never spard [sic] their blood to spill

For auld lang syne.

Alas our case is now much changd

We’re wretched and forlorn

The hardships vile impos’d on us

By slaves are only born

O Caledon O Caledon

It grieves my soul to think

That thy sad story written is

With blood instead of ink.

O Scotland What becomes of thee

When England sits thy judge

Mayst thou not then expect to be

Oppress’d without refuge

What would our ancient nobles say

Could they behold the scene

Will ye not for shame reflect

On auld lang syne.

How oft have our forefathers fought

In Liberty’s defence

Shall we then have it stoln [sic] away

By German influence

Well curse the actors of the deed

When under yoke we pine

But were’t not best once more to risque [?]

For auld lang syne.

Your great ancestors valiant deeds

Sit full before your eyes

And bain [??] to emulate each act

In native glory rise

Be but yourselves nor Germans dread

Though hell with them combine

In spite of both you shall enjoy

Your auld lang syne.

7. “Shall Monarchy Be Quite Forgot”7

Shall monarchy be quite forgot

As it has never been?

Antiquity be rooted out,

As an inglorious thing?

Are Scotsmen’s hearts now grown so cold,

the veil so o’er their mind,

That they can never once reflect

On auld lang-syne?

In days of yore ye were renown’d,

Conspicuous was your fame;

All nations they did honour you,

Your loyalty proclaim.

Ye did your ancient rights maintain,

And liberty defend,

And scorn’d to have it said, that you

On England would depend.

But now, alas! your case is chang’d,

You’re wretched and forlorn;

The hardships now impos’d on you,

By slaves are only borne.

Oh, Caledon! oh, Caledon!

It grieves me sair, to think

That thy sad story written is

With blood, instead of ink.

Scotland, what will become of thee,

When England sits thy judge?

Thy banish’d Prince, so long from home,--

O! where is thy refuge?

To ruin thee, ’tis plainly seen,

Must be their black design;

And will you not, alas, reflect

On auld lang-syne?

How oft have our forefathers bled

In Liberty’s defence!

And shall we have it stol’n away

By German Influence?

The price of so much Scotish blood

Shall we consent to tine?

And will we not, alas! reflect

On auld lang-syne?

When great Sir William Wallace liv’d,

And his accomplices,

Scotland he undertook to free,

When she was in distress.

Like wise Sir James, the black Douglas,

Who liv’d in Bruce’s reign;

These men spar’d not their blood to spill,

For auld lang-syne.

Sir John the Graeme, of lasting fame,

Shall never be forgot;

He was an honour to his name,

A brave and valiant Scot.

The great Montrose, the brave Dundee,

Were heroes in their time;

They spar’d not ev’n their mother’s sons

For auld lang-syne.

Then, let the ever glorious name

Of Wallace lead you on;

Wallace, to save his country, oft

Engag’d near ten to one:

Then, rouse, my valiant Scottish lads,

Behave yourself like men,

And Scotland yet again shall see

Her auld lang-syne.

8. Jacobite “Auld Lang Syne”, by Andrew Lang (1844–1912)8

Shall ancient freedom be forgot

And the auld Stuart line?

Shall ancient freedom be forgot

And Auld Lang Syne?

Though now we take King Louis’ fee

And drink King Louis’ wine,

We’ll bring the King frae o’er the sea

For Auld Lang Syne.

We twa hae waded deep in blood,

And broke the red-coat line,

And forded Eden white in flood

For Auld Lang Syne.

And we hae fought the English coofs

Frae Garry to the Rhine,

Frae Gledsmuir to the field o’ Val

In Auld Lang Syne.

The Butcher wi’ the deil shall drink

And wi’ the deevil dine,

But Charles shall dine in Holyrood

For Auld Lang Syne,

For He wha did proud Pharoah crush

And save auld Jacob’s line,

Shall speak wi’ Charlie in the Bush

Like Moses, lang syne.

1 Source: NLS, shelfmark Ry.III.a.10(117), also available at

2 Source: NLS Call no. BCL.AA509, collection of “Rebellious pamphlets” relating to Jacobite Uprising of 1745–1746. A slightly different printing can be found at NLS Ry.III.a.10(071).

3 Acc. to James Dick, this is from The True Loyalist, 1779; here quoted from James Hogg: Jacobite Relics, vol. II, Song LXXXVI. Murray Pittock states that there are very similar songs found in other sources, including NLS MS 2910 26v (Should auld honour be forgot / And mirth thought on no more): see the editorial notes to Jacobite Relics, 519. In Hogg’s Jacobite Relics, the tune given is M2.

4 Source:, apparently found in the collection of Andrew Lang.

5 Source: NLS MS 2910, “Poems composed since the attempt. 1745.”, 32–33. Handwritten MS from various sources.

6 Source: NLS MS 2910, “Poems composed since the attempt. 1745.”, 33–34. Handwritten MS from various sources.

7 Source: R. A. Smith, The Scotish Minstrel, vol. III [1821].

8 Lang 1923, 64–65.

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