Poem by Robert Burns

* * *

I met a lass, a bonnie lass,
  	Coming o’er the braes o’ Couper,
Bare her leg and bright her een,
  	And handsome ilka bit about her.
Weel I wat she was a quean
  	Wad made a body’s mouth to water;
Our Mess John, wi’ his lyart pow,
  	His haly lips wad lickit at her.

1. Canst Thou Leave Me Thus?
2. Address to General Dumourier
3. O Wha is She that Lo’es Me?
4. As Down the Burn They Took Their Way
5. The Cardin’ O’t

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