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 monie a canty day, John, We've had wi' ane anither. Now we maun totter down, John, But hand in hand we'll go: And sleep thegither at the foot, John Anderson, my jo. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...READ THE SIGNS by CLARENCE MAJOR GROWN-UP TALK by KATHERINE MANSFIELD TIE-DOWN OF A BONSAI by MARVIN BELL LOVE'S TENDRILS by GEORGIA DOUGLAS JOHNSON VOLUPTAS by JAMES WELDON JOHNSON SURFACES AND MASKS; 4 by CLARENCE MAJOR |