My heart is a breaking, dear Tittie, Some counsel unto me come len'; To anger them a' is a pity, But what will I do wi' Tam Glen? I'm thinking, wi' sic a braw fellow, In poortith I might mak a fen': What care I in riches to wallow, If I mauna marry Tam Glen. There's Lowrie the laird o' Dumeller, 'Gude day to you brute' he comes ben: He brags and blaws o' his siller, But when will he dance like Tam Glen. My Minnie does constantly deave me, And bids me beware o' young men; They flatter, she says, to deceive me, But wha can think sae o' Tam Glen. My Daddie says, gin I'll forsake him, He'll gie me gude hunder marks ten: But, if it's ordain'd I maun take him, O wha will I get but Tam Glen? Yestreen at the Valentine's dealing, My heart to my mou gied a sten; For thrice I drew ane without failing, And thrice it was written, Tam Glen. The last Halloween I was waukin My droukit sark-sleeve, as ya ken; His likeness cam up the house staukin, And the very grey breeks o' Tam Glen! Come counsel, dear Tittie, don't Tarry; I'll gie you my bonie black hen, Gif ye will advise me to Marry The lad I lo'e dearly, Tam Glen.