497. John Anderson, my Jo

Robert Burns. 1759-1796


JOHN ANDERSON, my jo, John,
  When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
  Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
  Your locks are like the snow;
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.


beld
bald
brent
smooth, unwrinkled
canty
cheerful
jo
sweetheart
pow
pate
The Oxford Book of English Verse, HTML edition