The Pamphlet Collection of Sir Robert Stout: Volume 87
Tam Glen
Tam Glen.
There's Lowrie, the Laird o' Drumeller,
Gude day to you, coof, he comes ben;
He brags and he blaws o' his siller,
But when will he dance like Tam Glen?
My minnie
4 does constantly deave
5 me,
And bids me beware o' young men;
They flatter, she says, to deceive me—
But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen?
My daddie says, gin I'll forsake him
He'll gie me guid hunder merks ten;
But if it's ordained I maun tak' him,
O, wha will I get but Tam Glen?
Yestreen, at the Valentine's dealin',
My heart to my mon' gied a sten;
For thrice I drew ane without failin',
And thrice it was written—Tam Glen.
The last Hallowe'en I was waukin'
My drookit
6 sark-sleeve, as ye ken,
7
His likeness cam' up the house staukin',
And the very grey breeks
8 o' Tam Glen.
Come, counsel, dear tittle, don't tarry;
I'll gi'e ye my bonnie black hen,
Gif
9 ye will advise me to marry
The lad I lo'e dearly, Tain Glen.
4 Mother.
5 Deafen.
6 Drenched.
7 Know.
8 Trousers.
9 If.