Robert Burns

The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, read more

The mother may forget the child
That smiles sae sweetly on her knee;
But I'll remember thee, Glencairn,
And all that thou hast done for me!

Whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.

Whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of wo.

Chords that vibrate sweetest pleasure
Thrill the deepest notes of wo.

I waive the quantum o' the sin,
The hazard of concealing:
But, och! it hardens a' within,
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I waive the quantum o' the sin,
The hazard of concealing:
But, och! it hardens a' within,
And petrifies the feeling!

John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
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John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent,
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonny brow was brent.