Maggy Lauther (1824, Edinburgh)/Tam Glen

For other versions of this work, see Tam Glen (Burns).

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 poorith I might mak a fen;
What care I in riches to wallow,
If I maunna marry Tam Glen?

There's Lowrie, the laird o' Drummiller,
'Guid 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'll gi'e me guid hunder marks ten;
But if it's ordain'd I maun tak 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 wauking,
My droukit sark sleeve as ye ken;
His likeness came up the house stauking,
And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen.

Come counsel, dear Tittie, don't tarry;
I'll gie ye my bonny black hen,
Gif ye will advise me to marry,
The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.

FINIS.