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.