My heart is a breaking, dear Tittie,
Some counsel unto me come len';
To anger them a' is a pity,
But what will I do wi' Tam Glen?
I'm thinking, wi' sic a braw fellow,
In poortith I might mak a fen':
What care I in riches to wallow,
If I mauna marry Tam Glen.
There's Lowrie the laird o' Dumeller,
'Gude day to you brute' he comes ben:
He brags and blaws o' his siller,
But when will he dance like Tam Glen.
My minnie does constantly deave 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 gude hunder marks ten:
But, if it's ordain'd I maun take him,
O wha will I get but Tam Glen?
Yestreen at the Valentine's dealing,
My heart to my mou gied a sten;
For thrice I drew ane without failing,
And thrice it was written, Tam Glen.
The last halloween I was waukin
My droukit sark-sleeve, as ya ken;
His likeness cam up the house staukin,
And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen!
Come counsel, dear Tittie, don't tarry;
I'll gie you my bonie black hen,
Gif ye will advise me to marry
The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.