Tam Glen

My heart is a—breaking, dear Tittie,
        Some counsel unto me come len’;
To anger them a’ is a pity,
        But what will I do wi’ Tam Glen?
I’m thinking, wi’ sic a braw fellow,
        In poortith I might mak a fen’:
What care I in riches to wallow,
        If I mauna marry Tam Glen?
There’s Lowrie, the laird o’ Dumeller,
        “Guid—day to you,”—brute! he comes ben:
He brags and he blaws o’ his siller,
        But when will he dance like Tam Glen?
My minnie does constantly deave me,
        And bids me beware o’ young men;
They flatter, she says, to deceive me;
        But wha can think sae o’ Tam Glen?
My daddie says, gin I’ll forsake him,
        He’ll gie me guid hunder marks ten:
But, if it’s ordain’d I maun take him,
        O wha will I get but Tam Glen?
Yestreen at the valentines’ dealing,
        My heart to my mou gied a sten:
For thrice I drew ane without failing,
        And thrice it was written, “Tam Glen”!
The last Halloween I was waukin
        My droukit sark—sleeve, as ye ken:
His likeness cam up the house staukin,
        And the very gray breeks o’ Tam Glen!
Come counsel, dear Tittie, don’t tarry;
        I’ll gie ye my bonie black hen,
Gif ye will advise me to marry
        The lad I lo’e dearly, Tam Glen.
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