Robert Burns (1759–1796). Poems and Songs.
The Harvard Classics. 1909–14.

427 . Song—Whistle and I’ll come to you

Chorus.—O WHISTLE, an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad,

O whistle, an’ I’ll come to ye, my lad,

Tho’ father an’ mother an’ a’ should gae mad,

O whistle, an’ I’ll come to 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 an’ I’ll come, &c.

At kirk, or at market, whene’er ye meet me,

Gang by me as tho’ that ye car’d na 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 an’ I’ll come, &c.

Aye vow and protest that ye care na for me,

And whiles ye may lightly my beauty a-wee;

But court na anither, tho’ jokin’ ye be,

For fear that she wile your fancy frae me,

For fear that she wile your fancy frae me.

O whistle an’ I’ll come, &c.