John Anderson, My Jo

Robert Burns

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 snow, 
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. 

Next 10 Poems

• Robert Burns : John Barleycorn
• Robert Burns : John Barleycorn: A Ballad
• Robert Burns : Lament For Culloden
• Robert Burns : Lament Of Mary, Queen Of Scots, On The Apporch Of Spring
• Robert Burns : Lass Of Cessnock Banks, The
• Robert Burns : Lass That Made The Bed To Me, The
• Robert Burns : Last May A Braw Wooer
• Robert Burns : Lines On The Fall Of Fyers Near Loch Ness
• Robert Burns : Love In The Guise Of Frindship
• Robert Burns : Mary Morison

Previous 10 Poems

• Robert Burns : John Anderson
• Robert Burns : Jean
• Robert Burns : It Was A' For Our Rightful King
• Robert Burns : In The Character Of A Ruined Farmer
• Robert Burns : I Dream'd I Lay
• Robert Burns : Holy Willie's Prayer
• Robert Burns : Holy Fair, The
• Robert Burns : Highland Mary
• Robert Burns : Here's To Thy Health
• Robert Burns : Here's A Health To Them That's Awa