John Anderson, My Jo (1789)

John Anderson, my jo, John, 
When we were first acquent; 
Your locks were like the raven, 
Your bonie brow was brent; 
But now your brow is beld, John, 
Your locks are like the snaw; 
But blessings on your frosty pow, 
John Anderson, my jo. 

John Anderson, my jo, John, 
We clamb the hill thegither; 
And mony a cantie day, John, 
We've had wi' ane anither: 
Now we maun totter down, John, 
And hand in hand we'll go, 
And sleep thegither at the foot, 
John Anderson, my jo.