271. Song—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 mony a cantie day, John,
 We’ve had wi’ ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
 And hand in hand we’ll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
 John Anderson, my jo.

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