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O Whistle, and I’ll come to ye, my lad

A song by Robert Burns, written in 1793.

O Whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad,
O whistle, an' I'll come to ye, my lad;
Tho' father, and mother and a' should gae mad,
Thy Jeanie will venture wi' ye, my lad.

But warily tent when ye come to court me,
And come nae unless the back-yett be a-jee;
Syne up the back-stile and let naebody see,
And come as ye were na comin' to me,
And come as ye were na comin' to me.

O Whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad,
O whistle, an' I'll come to ye, my lad;
Tho' father, and mother and a' should gae mad,
Thy Jeanie will venture wi' ye, my lad.

At kirk, or at market, whene'er ye meet me,
Gang by me as tho' that ye car'd nae a flie;
But steal me a blink o' your bonie black e'e,
Yet look as ye were na lookin' to me,
Yet look as ye were na lookin' to me.

O Whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad,
O whistle, an' I'll come to ye, my lad;
Tho' father, and mother and a' should gae mad,
Thy Jeanie will venture wi' ye, my lad.

Aye vow and protest that ye care na for me,
And whyles ye may lightly my beauty a wee;
But court nae anither, tho' jokin' ye be,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me,
For fear that she wyle your fancy frae me.

O Whistle, and I'll come to ye, my lad,
O whistle, an' I'll come to ye, my lad;
Tho' father, and mother and a' should gae mad,
Thy Jeanie will venture wi' ye, my lad.

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