From Poems and Songs by Allan Cunningham, with an introduction, glossary and notes by Peter Cunningham (London: John Murray, 1847):


TAM BO, TAM BO.

"Will ye fee wi' me, Tam Bo, Tam Bo,
Will ye fee wi' me, my heart and my jo'?
An' yese be at hame like my tae e'e,
If ye'll fee wi' a pitifu' widow like me."

Tam Bo was steeve and Tam Bo was stark,
Wi' an e'e like puss and a voice like a lark;
The widow was rosie and weel to leeve,
Wi' sense in her noddle and silk in her sleeve.

"I'll gie ye marks three, Tam Bo, Tam Bo,
Three lily white sarks, my heart and my jo',
An' mony braw things when there's nane to see,
If ye'll fee wi' a pitifu' widow like me.

"A gliff i' the gloaming to daut and woo,
A gude sharp sock and a weel gaun plough;
Wi' a simmer sun and a lilie lea;
Will ye fee wi' a pitifu' widow like me?

"A cozie bed and a cannie darke,
An' late to rise and soon frae wark,
A kindlie kiss and uncounted fee;
Will ye fee wi' a pitifu' widow like me?"

"Thae bright een gang through me like swords,
And thy ripe lips hae weel waled words,
That may win my saul and then work it woe,
We are fallible creatures," quo' douce Tam Bo.

Now what to do or say or look,
Tam wistna while the widow she took
Frae her silken purse the gowd sae free;
"Will ye fee wi' a pitifu' widow like me?"

Tam yoked the plough, he furrowed the lea,
He sowed the corn, and he pouched his fee,
While the widow she sang neither lowne nor lowe,
"He's a capital bargain, this young Tam Bo."