Whistle, and I'll come to you, my Lad

O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad;O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad:Tho' father and mither and a' should gae mad,O whistle, and I'll come to you, my lad.

But warily tent, when ye come to court me,And come na 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, &c.O whistle, &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 ee,Yet look as ye were na lookin at me.Yet look, &c.O whistle, &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 wyle your fancy frae me.For fear, &c.O whistle, &c.