Poem by Robert Burns

Willie Chalmers

Wi’ braw new branks in mickle pride,
  And eke a braw new brechan,
My Pegasus I’m got astride,
  And up Parnassus pechin’;
Whiles owre a bush wi’ downward crush,
  The doited beastie stammers;
Then up he gets, and off he sets
  For sake o’ Willie Chalmers.

I doubt na, lass, that weel kenn’d name
  May cost a pair o’ blushes;
I am nae stranger to your fame
  Nor his warm urged wishes.
Your bonnie face sae mild and sweet,
  His honest heart enamours,
And faith ye’ll no be lost a whit,
  Tho’ waired on Willie Chalmers.

Auld Truth hersel might swear ye’re fair,
  Aud Honour safely back her,
And Modesty assume your air,
  And ne’er a ane mistak’ her:
And sic twa love-inspiring een
  Might fire even holy palmers;
Nae wonder then they’ve fatal been
  To honest Willie Chalmers.

I doubt na fortune may you shore
  Some mim-mou’d pouther’d priestie,
Fu’ lifted up wi’ Hebrew lore,
  And band upon his breastie:
But oh! what signifies to you,
  His lexicons and grammars;
The feeling heart’s the royal blue,
  And that’s wi’ Willie Chalmers.

Some gapin’ glowrin’ country laird
  May warsle for your favour;
May claw his lug, and straik his beard,
  And host up some palaver.
My bonnie maid, before ye wed
  Sic clumsy-witted hammers,
Seek Heaven for help, and barefit skelp
  Awa’ wi’ Willie Chalmers.

Forgive the Bard! my fond regard
  For ane that shares my bosom
Inspires my muse to gie ‘m his dues,
  For de’il a hair I roose him.
May powers aboon unite you soon,
  And fructify your amours,
And every year come in mair dear
  To you and Willie Chalmers.

1. I Gaed a Waefu' Gate Yestreen
2. Blythe Was She
3. Farewell to Ballochmyle
4. Stay My Charmer
5. On a Bank of Flowers

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