Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. III. The Eighteenth Century: Addison to Blake

Robert Burns (1759–1796)

John Anderson, My Jo

JOHN ANDERSON, my jo, John,

When we were first acquent,

Your locks were like the raven,

Your bonie brow was brent;

But now your brow is beld, John,

Your locks are like the snaw;

But blessings on your frosty pow,

John Anderson, my jo.

John Anderson, my jo, John,

We clamb the hill thegither;

And monie a canty day, John,

We ’ve had wi’ ane anither:

Now we maun totter down, John,

But hand in hand we ’ll go,

And sleep thegither at the foot,

John Anderson, my jo.