ROBERT BURNS
Fu' loud the wind blaws frae the ferry, The ship rides by the Berwick-Jaw, And I maun leave my Bonnie Mary.
The trumpets sound, the banners fly,
The glittering spears are ranked ready; The shouts o j war are heard afar,
The battle closes thick and bloody; But it 's no the roar o' sea or shore
Wad mak me langer wish to tarry ; Nor shout o' war that 's heard afar
It 's leaving thee, my bonnie Mary'
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��5/7 John Anderson, my Jo
[OHN ANDERSON, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent, Your locks were like the raven, Your bonnie brow was brent, But now your brow is bcld, John, Your locks are like the snow; But blessings on your frosty pow, John Anderson, my jo'
John Anderson, my jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither; And monie a canty day, John,
We've had wi' ane anither. Now we maun totter down, John,
But hand in hand we'll go, And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.
5/7 jo] sweetheart. brent] smooth, un wrinkled. beld] bald. pow] pate. canty] cheerful.
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