William Stanley Braithwaite, ed. The Book of Georgian Verse. 1909.
John Anderson, My JoRobert Burns (17591796)
J
When we were first acquent;
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonnie 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.
We clamb the hill thegither;
And mony a cantie day, John,
We’ve had wi’ ane anither;
Now we maun totter down, John,
And hand in hand we’ll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.