Роберт Бернс (Robert Burns)

The Day Returns

THE day returns, my bosom burns,
  The blissful day we twa did meet;
Tho’ winter wild in tempest toil’d,
  Ne’er summer-sun was half sae sweet.
Than a’ the pride that loads the tide,
  And crosses o’er the sultry line;
Than kingly robes, than crowns and globes,
  Heaven gave me more, it made thee mine!

While day and night can bring delight,
  Or nature aught of pleasure give;
While joys above my mind can move,
  For thee, and thee alonee, I live!
When that grim foe of life below
  Comes in between to make us part;
The iron hand that breaks our band,
  It breaks my bliss-it breaks my heart!

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