Thomas Humphry Ward, ed. The English Poets. 1880–1918.rnVol. III. The Eighteenth Century: Addison to Blake

Robert Burns (1759–1796)

Whistle, and I ’ll Come to Ye, My Lad

O WHISTLE, and I ’ll come to ye, my lad;

O whistle, and I ’ll come to ye, my lad:

Tho’ father and mither and a’ should gae mad,

O whistle, and I ’ll come to ye, my lad.

But warily tent, when ye come to court me,

And comena unless the back-yett be a-jee;

Syne up the back-stile, and let naebody see,

And come as ye werena comin to me.

O whistle, &c.

At Kirk, or at market, whene’er ye meet me,

Gang by me as tho’ that ye caredna a flee:

But steal me a blink o’ your bonnie black e’e,

Yet look as ye werena lookin at me.

O whistle, &c.

Aye vow and protest that ye carena for me,

And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;

But courtna anither, tho’ jokin ye be,

For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.

O whistle, &c.