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C.D. Warner, et al., comp.
The Library of the World’s Best Literature. An Anthology in Thirty Volumes. 1917.

John Anderson, my Jo

By Robert Burns (1759–1796)

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 snaw;

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.