Tak your auld cloak about ye/Tam Glen

For other versions of this work, see Tam Glen.

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 fallow,
in portith I might make a fen’;
What care I in riches to wallow,
if I manna marry Tam Glen?

There’s Lowrie, the laird o’ Drummiller,
“Guide 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 ma beware o’ young men,
They flatter, she says, to deceive me,
But wha can think sae o’ Tam Glen?

My daddy says, gin I'll forsake him,
he'll gie me gude hunder marks ten;
But if it's ordain'd I maun tak him,
O wha will I get but Tam Glen?

Yestreen at the valentines dealin',
my heart to my mou' gied a sten,
for thrice I drew ane without failin',
and thrice it was written, Tam Glen.

The last Hallowe'en I was wauking
my droukit sark-sleeve, as ye ken,
His likeness cam up the house staukin,
and the very grey breeks o’ Tam Glen.

Come counsel dear tittie, dont tarry;
I'll gie you a bonny black hen,
Gin ye will advise me to marry
the lad I loe dearly, Tam Glen,