Bliss Carman, et al., eds. The World’s Best Poetry. 1904.
III. Loves BeginningsO whistle, and Ill come to you, my lad
Robert Burns (17591796)O
O whistle, and I ’ll come to you, my lad,
Tho’ father and mither and a’ should gae mad,
O whistle, and I ’ll come to you, my lad.
And come na unless the back-yett be a-jee;
Syne up the back stile, and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin’ to me.
And come, etc.
O whistle, etc.
Gang by me as tho’ that ye cared nae a flie;
But steal me a blink o’ your bonnie black ee,
Yet look as ye were na lookin’ at me.
Yet look, etc.
O whistle, etc.
And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;
But court nae anither, tho’ jokin’ ye be,
For fear that she wile your fancy frae me.
For fear, etc.
O whistle, and I ’ll come to you, my lad.