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Poem by Robert Burns The Sailor’s Song Tho’ women’s minds, like winter winds, May shift, an’ turn, and a’ that, The noblest breast adores them maist- A consequence I draw that. CHORUS. For a’ that, and a’ that, An’ twice as meikle ‘s a’ that; The bonnie lass that I lo’e best, She’ll be my ain for a’ that! Great love I bear to a’ the fair, Their humble slave and a’ that; But lordly will, I hold it still A mortal sin to thraw that. But there is ane aboon the lave Has wit, an’ sense, and a’ that; A bonnie lass, I like her best, An’ wha a crime dare ca’ that? In rapture sweet this hour we meet Wi’ mutual love, and a’ that; But for how lang the flee may stang, – Let inclination law that. Their tricks an’ craft has put me daft; They’ve ta’en me in, and a’ that; But clear your decks, an’ Here’s the sex! I like the jads for a’ that! 1785 Robert Burns Robert Burns's other poems:
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