Robert Burns

O, Whistle An’ I’ll Come To Ye My Lad

Chorus

O, whistle an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad!
O, whistle an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad!
Tho’ father an’ mother an’ a’ should gae mad,
O, whistle an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad!
 
But warily tent when ye come to court me,
And come nae unless the back-yett be a-jee;
Syne up the back-style, and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin to me,
And come as ye were na comin to me,
 
At kirk, or at market, whene’er ye meet me,
Gang by me as tho’ that ye car’d na a flie;
But steal me a blink o’ your bonie black e’e,
Yet look as ye were na lookin to me,
Yet look as ye were na lookin to me!
 
Ay vow and protest that ye care na for me,
And whyles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;
But court na anither tho’ jokin ye be,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me!
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