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.