Poem by Robert Burns

John Anderson

John 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 bald, 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 mony 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. 

1. The Flowery Banks of Cree
2. Blythe Was She
3. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
4. The Banks of Nith (THE THAMES flows proudly to the sea)
5. Farewell to Ballochmyle

Print

7455 Views

Last Poems

To Russian version