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Poem by Robert Burns

The Sailors Song

Tho womens minds, like winter winds,
  	May shift, an turn, and a that,
The noblest breast adores them maist-
  	A consequence I draw that.

  	For a that, and a that,
    		An twice as meikle s a that;
  	The bonnie lass that I loe best,
    		Shell 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;
  	Theyve taen me in, and a that;
But clear your decks, an Heres the sex!
  	I like the jads for a that!


Robert Burns

Robert Burns's other poems:
  1. Stanzas on the Same Occasion
  2. To Mr. Gow, Visiting Dumfries
  3. O Saw Ye My Dear
  4. As Down the Burn They Took Their Way
  5. Epitaph on Robert Muir

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