The noder from
Familiar Lines wanted us to node these lines/poems, so. . . .
The line is from a poem by Robert Burns, around 1789.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
When we were first acquent;
Your locks were like the raven,
Your bonnie brow was brent;
But now your brow is beld, John,
Your locks are like the snow,
But blessings on your frosty prow,
John Anderson, my jo.
John Anderson, my jo, John,
We clamb the hill thegither;
And mony a cantie day, John,
We've had wi' ane anither:
Now we maun totter down, John,
And hand in hand we'll go,
And sleep thegither at the foot,
John Anderson, my jo.
So, any guesses as to what this poem is about? (Hint: they predict they'll die at the end.) I memorized this years ago in junior high--it's a song, as well.
They ought to have the kids memorize poetry, if they don't, in school today. It's a Good Thing.