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273. Song—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 maunna marry Tam Glen!


There’s Lowrie the Laird o’ Dumeller—
 “Gude 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’d gie me gude hunder marks ten;
But, if it’s ordain’d I maun take him,
 O wha will I get but Tam Glen!


Yestreen at the Valentine’s 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 came up the house staukin,
 And the very grey 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.

Poem by Robert Burns
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Book: Shattered Sighs