Whistle, And I’ll Come To You, My Lad
1793
Type: Poem
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-stile, and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin’ to me,
And come as ye were na comin’ to me.
O whistle an’ I’ll come, &c.
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.
O whistle an’ I’ll come, &c.
Aye vow and protest that ye care na for me,
And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a-wee;
But court na anither, tho’ jokin’ ye be,
For fear that she wile your fancy frae me,
For fear that she wile your fancy frae me.
O whistle an’ I’ll come, &c.
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Robert Burns, (born January 25, 1759, Alloway, Ayrshire, Scotland—died July 21, 1796, Dumfries, Dumfriesshire), national poet of Scotland. He wrote lyrics, ballads and songs in Scots and in English. He was also notable for his amorous adventures and his rebellion against religion and morality.