Robert Burns
John Anderson my Jo

John Anderson my jo, John,
     When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
     Your bony brow was brent,
But now your brow is beld, John,
     Your locks are like the snaw,
But blessings on your frosty pow,
     John Anderson my Jo.

John Anderson my jo, John,
     We clamb the hill the gither,
And mony a canty day, John,
     We've had wi' ane anither,
Now we maun totter down, John,
     And hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep the gither at the foot,
     John Anderson my Jo.

pow - head          canty - jolly