Robert Burns ( )


The Tither Morn


    THE tither morn,
    When I forlorn
Aneath an aik sat moaning,
    I did na trow
    Id see my jo
Beside me, gain the gloaming.
    But he sae trig
    Lap oer the rig,
And dawtingly did cheer me,
    When I, what reck?
    Did least expec
To see my lad so near me.

    His bonnet he,
    A thought ajee,
Cockd sprush when first he claspd me;
    And I, I wat,
    Wi fainness grat,
While in his grips he pressd me.
    Deil tak the war!
    I late and ear
Hae wishd since Jock departed;
    But now as glad
    Im wi my lad,
As short syne broken-hearted.

    Fu aft at een
    Wi dancing keen,
When a were blythe and merry,
    I card na by,
    Sae sad was I
In absence o my dearie.
    But, praise be blest!
    My minds at rest,
Im happy wi my Johnny:
    At kirk and fair,
    Ise aye be there,
And be as cantys ony.



Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Epitaph on Miss Jessy Lewars
  2. Verses to a Young Lady, Miss Graham of Fintry, with a Present of Songs
  3. Extempore To Mr. Syme, On Refusing To Dine With Him, After Having Been Promised The First Of Company, And The First Of Cookery
  4. Epitaph on Gabriel Richardson
  5. The Captains Lady


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